[ Featuring Skepta ]
50 Grand for my chain
Quarter mil' for my whip
10 Mil' for my house
I think that I'm gonna be sick
It seems like every MC is about
Loves telling the poor they're rich
Then he wonders why they're getting rolled
On when he wanna try and walk round in the bits
This is real life no thrills hype
On a reals it feels like
I've been impaled on a steel spike
But still fight, for my girls and real guys
In the real grind that write real rhymes
It's the boy next door that kicked down doors
And I'm back on an ill vibe
(Alright)
Twenty pounds on my weed
Five pounds on my pint
No swagger at all, just me
And I bet I can draw your wife
Comply with anything please
I'm gutter, I'll do what I like
I had a pipe dream in the grime scene
Now I'm flying at withering heights
50 Grand for my chain
Quarter mil' for my whip
10 Mil' for my house
Ten pounds for my cab
Some cheap wine for this skank
I'm streetwise, you ain't - fact
I'll fleece guys, you're getting wrapped
Outside of the East Side is where I'm at
Where fiends lie and make traps
For these sweet guys that flash
But when it's beats time it ain't that
(Alright)
These times I'm in the lab with terms
These guys are on a madness learn
No peace signs, I'm gonna stab this verse
Just to kill it, I'm able and willing
Rep for the boys, the kids and the women
Tryna get by in the times that we live in
Tryna make a life and a living
50 Grand for my chain
Quarter mil' for my whip
10 Mil' for my house
(That's not me)
(Skepta)
(Trust me)
(Yeah, yeah)
I never had it, made it, saved it
Spent it, lost it, gave it
To people who needed it more than me
Guys in the ends getting shanked for the P
More time I'm tryna show man the vision
But it's like man are still too poor to see
So I let man do their ting
I ain't judging anybody, I don't wanna law degree
You see the rap lifestyle, if you wanna live
Celebrities and the worthless riches
I ain't saying I don't want to make money
But right now I'm tryna do the right tings with it
If I eat food, eat food in my crew
See me and Dev in a cinema near you
And when I pull up to the premiere
Don't ask why I ain't wearing a suit, you're tired
50 Grand for my chain
Quarter mil' for my whip
10 Mil' for my house
