Knucks
BLOW YA TRUMPET
[Verse 1: Knucks]
They say no man is an island
But I left island
Had to do my ting
If I sense any sign in your eye that your trifling
It's bye no fussing or fighting
Seen all they drops the same already
Seen all buss downs and chains already
Save your drip, made it rain already
P*ssed off 'ca my cup couldn't take more henny
Let's discuss it
Wanna tell lies to the public
Cool, if you like it I love it
But true I'm that guy in the function
Spit fire leave sh*t alight like a Bunsen burner
Man will grill beef, you dont want this burger
Money filthy, a disgusting earner
Wordup
That's ya luck it's gone further
Do a man like Klashnekoff it's (murder)
Gеtting dough on the front end
Can't take man for a prick, no thorn
I dont need no horns I blow my own trumpеt
Thank road for the funding
Only bro knows how it's rolled into hundreds
Lizzie gone rogue, pink notes in abundance
Did all my bicep curls and my lunges
True say you ain't yourself when you hungry

[Verse 2: Ghetts]
Coldest
I don't know how you ain't noticed
Without Ghetts there ain't no list
Your new sh*t's like my old sh*t
Your old sh*t was just so sh*t
Hold it
Who wants smoke? I'll roll it
Who wants rope? I'll hold it
Let's play hangman
How do I know you ain't got no heart?
X-ray and scan
Them man haven't been transparent
But I know the minerals they've got missing
Indirects often, indirect
Just bare subliminals they've got written
I don't wanna play fill in the blanks
I'd rather play fill up the bank
Easy, think of a plan
Meet me, pick up a shank
BP, fill up the tank
I was in the cold, no comfort
Grade 8s in music that's why I can blow my own trumpet
[What you got?] I got news for the public
[What else?] I got views for the pundit
I'm a sellout I ain't got room for a hundred
I can only look down on people who gossip
I stay 22 rumours above them
F**k them!
[Verse 3: Akala]
When the beat intro drops and you're screwing your face and blowing your top
A shot no fighter could block
A weight nobody could spot
Beats we are burning em
London to Birmingham
Course you have heard of em
Fellas are shellers
We're perming them, permanent
Jump from this plane but diss man for the turbulence
Plane we observing on so far above that it gets kinda burdensome
They are not ready for shells that we're serving them
Food for your thought like I'm swallowing, murdering
Gurgling on your own blood and its curdling
Your stomach is weaker than Wurzle is
My word on it
I'm earning it
These scriptures I speak they just learning it
Street sh*t in deep sh*t
Like Ancient Egypt and 3 clips
Like read this and take in your teachings
If he flips then break face of idiots
He's quick to make pace ca he's sick
And these pricks gave chase but he slips
Not a day in your life, I tell you these grips
Blood they grip on the track better than V6
And when I've written a rap I'll tell you these d**ks
They couldn't bust if they gave em 3 chicks
A whole load of crumpet
No bro you dont blow your trumpet
I roll over dunces
I throw loads of punches
D**kheads and lunches
[Verse 4: Koji Radical]
Back, back, gimme space, gimme
Got God, got jah with me
Why they never wanna war with me?
Why the devil wanna spar with me?
I been around, been around for a sec
I need TLC like left eye
When sh*t got peak man left I
Now my heart turn black like Wes Snipes
Sniper
Watch a man shed skin like viper
Drop 2, 2 bars when I like her
No coming back like Rikers
All that drip but you're not impressive
Spark my thoughts, pen my lessons
Man can't talk too much 'bout blessings
Them man there might think I'm flexing