Meekz - Year of the Real Lyrics

(Brigade, too bougie)
(Mktheplug)
(Sapphire Beatsz)

Dropped the last ting
Got everyone askin', "What's with the mask ting?"
Is he wanted? Have they grabbed him?
Is he paid off this rap ting or is he trappin'? (Paid)
I got fans in the USA, now I can fly packs in
But right now, the mandem are growin' a mad ting (bang)
We got UK cheap and eighths for the low
Three-five go five for the damn ting
I paid three G's for the hand ting (ha)
Can your block fry plantain? (boaw)
Free my G's on the landin'
I can tell by the way that my man's actin
That he's never been locked for the mad ting (likkle boy)
Lost it all and remanded
Sat in jail gettin' racks in
Connectin', came home
Got links all over the map now, I'm active
Second time in jail for some daft shit
My last run was good while it lasted
Ten quid on a Tuesday, stupid bastards (mad)
Two kids in the bando movin' backwards
Push flake 'til I'm paid, in the grave or landing (standing)
Guess I'm paid off trappin'
I if I get locked with opps
I'll rock my sock, I ain't chillin' with snakes on the landin' (no)
I woke up switchin', pissed off at random
Probably cah my bitch never answered (f*ckin' hell)
I'm on FaceTime tell my G
Go to the strip club and show me the dancers
F*ck the home of a matches
I'll be home 'til my phone in a badness
Home to the roads, gettin' dough for my nanan
Amount of O's that a man made vanish
Shit I did for the dough, man a savage
Manchester, home of the gangsters
I don't trust Insta, my phones or bangers (ha)
Anything I do in there is all banters
If it weren't for feds I'd show you a madness
This ain't promo, if I post a pic with bro-bro
Had the popo doin' mad shit
In the pot with the yolo doin' back flips
Gotta TT the block and OT the magic
I gotta have it, must be habits, rusty, bangin'
Country slangin', bunch of has-beens
You ain't gangin', changed the game, better thank him
Changed the game, better thank him
Young rich shit, what the fiends and the fans think

The man at the desk just askin' me questions
No sergeant, I don't feel suicidal
Fans playin' my tunes on Tidal
While I'm tryna spend stream money on rifles (baow)
I dashed my phone but I got it backed up
So I can't really lie man, that sim card's vital (true)
Next day, I got my worker runnin' like Usain Bolt in Olympic finals
Rejected the duty solicitor and went no commitment
It ain't rocket science (hm)
And the scheme ain't hot, it's fryin'
I ain't the ganja farmer, the crop keeps dyin'
I'm on the tech' and the night pass by
Wont get through this door how hard you try it
Barricade in case the Power Rangers raid
And have man on basic dyin'
I just come out the station pissed
In Morley's, fans should have asked for a pic
It's mandatory that I black out the whip
These tings help me blend when carryin' sticks
I hit the market town shottin' twenties for tens
Of course, there's magic in it
Sent a grown ting in traffic a brick
Don't touch the suitcase, there's packets in it (don't touch)
Kitchen ting to the training ground
He might've got big after football trials
I spent seven on designer bags
Old school times, would've been Scott and Lyle (brass)
Or should I say Lyle & Scott
That .40 did jam cah it had no oil (grease it)
Known for shottin' machine in these slim fit jeans
That's what you call pattern and style
That 50CC weren't blowin' no trace
Man had to get it de-restricted
Loaded the dash and my seat just lifted
Buss the red lights and the jakes just missed it (skrrt)
Fifteen bills, get the calls encrypted
For the PGP, man might just risk it
And it ain't for no biscuit
Half box of B in raw brown Rizzlas

They locked my block cah the junkies wired
I used to get ku' off B-Low
Come like Heathrow, the pack just flyin'
Verbal abuse from pussies
All for the crutch, that's tired
Revolvers that bang
Pinocchio gang cah the whole of you gangdem liars
Check it, ST livin' in cunch
He'll spin it on drunks and the wagons too
10 got ten tryna aim and shoot
This big lead in the skeng
We don't pay for fight like Pay-Per-View
S just let that bang out the German
I smack that like I'm in eighty-two
I don't know nothin' 'bout retail workin'
I kept on jerkin' and takin' food
How could I get more weight to move?
I was so young as a weighty f*cker
Two hands on a weighty brucker
Mum know I'm gonna be late for supper
Bro tryna rev it in eights, you nutter
That's fifties right to the one G
I should've had paper planes
I hit the one-way, head right to the country
Thankful for the life that I got
Tight rock, Lira Galore and Jason
Buss how much shoots in cunch like Kaylum
Two hundred miles up north
Ain't Futurama, we need a spaceship
Smashin' it out like Karla's back in the town
Never missed a patient
Niggas wanna be famous
M still paintin' the pave like Banksy
Three tough knock on the door
Tell Roger to hide with the Stan or Francy
Really should've made a plan B
Four fives off, now the junkies thank me
We ain't never been Berlin
I was way too young in the German back seat
Lost his, thought he was Tarzan
Bare fake youtes just tryna facade man
M10 on the loose, that's loose, he's drownin'
Save him, get him an armband
I risked all my rights for bro
I lost rights when the cunts disarm man
Now I need me an auto rents
Cah the stupid pig put me on a car ban (car ban)

I put my time in the trap
I put my slugs in mashes
How many times was I under attack?
How many times did I back out my?
And showed him the world is passa
Young dark one gettin' mula (hm)
Officer, I wont surrender (mm-hm)
Free up my brudda, that's K1
Free up my brudda, that's Jojo
Free up my brudda, that's Mason
Rolled all black like Jason
Free up Berto, the shit dem Isle of Wight
He's still holding it down
I come from a side of town
Where you either eat (munch) or be eaten
In the hill side strip we're so ravin'
But we still got the din
'Cause of risks we took
Did I get rushed? How many donuts must get rushed?
I swing first and still left last
They seen guns, should've seen their face
I see them flee, them boy feeble (stop running boy)
I pree them snakes from a bird's eye view
Came like eagle with the militant power
Them boy sour, can't be like me
Lizzy baby, my wifey
I can't take treason lightly (never)
I was in a useless strip
I was flippin' that work daily
Your girl say that I'm wavy
Oh, oh, I know I'm so wavy
The ghetto is what made me
Oh, the ghetto is what made me (mm-hmm)
Like, hop out the Ford with force
Quick quick, skrrt, better not fall
Dotty came long and tall
Hammer man down like Thor (like Thor)
Win a man ting, still score and bore
Dip a man ting, I'm mad with sword
If a man try show no remorse (show no remorse), show no remorse
Like 'low all the verbal chat
Dem ah talk, dem ah talk
Dem ah talk, dem ah talk, 'til a boy gets (dem a talk, dem a talk)
Whoosh, splash, and that
Mishmash, and bag packs
Any man want war affi dead (dead 'em)
Try balls, night falls gone red (mm-hmm)
Could've been neck or
I came all dark like um

(Brigade, too bougie)
(Mktheplug)
(Sapphire Beatsz)