London's Calling - GRM Daily, Aj Tracey, ASCO

Yo, who’s that?

Big boy Skrapz, the one and only

Fam where are you?

Northwest

Say nothing, you gonna hold me down?

Boom

No days off, I ain’t got time to relax

No sidetracks, I ain’t got time for all of that

I’m in a 4×4, two pipes at the back

Dippin' in and out of lanes through the tiniest gaps

I’ve got killers in my contacts

One hand sign, that’s a done deal, no contracts

I’ve got a household name that stay ringing bells

It isn’t hard to tell that I’m doing well

A wholesale, cook crack 'till my clothes smell

And if it all goes well by the end of the year, then I’m gone, I ain’t going

into detail

Pent houses and females

Whole top floor’s full of goons, bad bitches and weed smell

I got shooters around me with big Desert Eagles

I’m basically paid like it’s legal

And all they need is a reason, trust

Yo

Yo

Who’s that?

It’s V

Yo cuzzy, where are you?

I’m in a mad place right now

Stop playing cuz man where are you

North

You gonna hold me down?

Reporting life from the border where it’s borderline

Insane, I go insane, I get bored of lines

But I’m tryna kill it until I’m immortalised

Still tryna get a mortgage, man I’m mortified

Cause no one ever taught me 'bout credit, but

Credit to myself, go getters go and get it

Only diesel I could afford were the denims

Now I’m in my diesel feeling gassed, unleaded

Drive got me this, tryna feel alive got me this

New Rollie, make time for me, bitch

I’m a hustler, I grind for me bitch

Buss down make you buss it open, shine for me bitch

I’m a star now

Never got a look-in, I’m looking at yards now

I’m in hypebeast, nigga calm down

You ain’t got a leg to stand on, put them arms down

Yo

Yo what’s up?

Who’s that?

Big Mulli

Yo cuzzy, where are you?

My phone’s moving meady, where are you?

LF, East side

Hold me down

Look, it’s big As from the East side, how ya livin'?

I’m in the trap where the cats and the mice livin'

Big foreigns, any time you see me whipping

I stays in the trap, that’s how I mind my business

In a dirty kitchen, with the lights flicking

Night shifting all night, all the white licking

I rap now, they know I’m more than nice with it

Ice with it, and I don’t write down my lyrics

And I don’t see no food, I just buy the

I straight drop it, bring it back and recycle it

And if shorty hella bad I’m re-piping it

And I ain’t with all the talk, I’m on sight with it

The jewels mad, even madder when the lights hit it

I take next man’s gyal and make them my bitches

And I don’t spend no time with them

I just blow loud packs, get neck and put pipe in them

Yo

Yo, family

Who’s that?

Loose

Yo, family, where are you?

Harlem, B

Where?

South

Aight, say nuttin', hold me down

Gang

Yeah, they calling me Loose

I ain’t slipping in the streets, I got a pole when I’m out with my boo

Who’s brave, ay?

Run up on who?

I’m in love with designer, drill it in a Canada Goose

Harlem, hold it down for the crew

I coulda broke my hands bagging weight of this, true

8 dash, but we got about 2

Lack where?

Lack where?

I got it locked in a shoe

Ay banter, skidding in a 4 pipe

Oh my, oh my, swag looking mazza

Shoulda left the brucky with Amanda

But she bag it up 'nuff times, so I thank her

Buss on my paigons and they ain’t blew back

I’m from the South part, Harlem baby, you knew that

Stepping in Harrods, my Gucci two bags

And my gyal up in Louis, she looking too bad

Yo

Yo

Who’s that?

AJ, cuzzy, come on

Yo, cuzzy, wagwan?

What you telling me, I’m in West, man, come on

Hold me down

I got you, gang

It’s big G Trace-O, representing West Zone

I want all the smoke, ain’t got no pressure, gang will press chrome

Stretching out these models, back in day I had to stretch O’s

Independent and I got my pendant looking metro

Buss down looking boomin', got your misses groomin'

Grey trackie got these pengers on my Insta tryna zoom in

Cooly boy I’m coolin'

Louboutin shoes in season, bloody bottoms got me boolin'

Ladbroke Grove you’re groovin' now

I’m a lover not a loser, i8 cruiser

Fat pussy bruiser, always with a shooter

Dailing skatty, stay around in Sammy like Yakuza

You’re thinking that’s your wifey but she gang and she’s a chooser

Girls, they tryna diss me, but

Tracey, I got plenty hoes

Slide up on my niggas, leave your rentals catching plenty holes

Bloody on this F ting, girls ain’t in no Fendi though

Got my young strikers making names like Asensio

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