GOLA - Local

Not Oz but I go right under

Wonder, why I don’t do leftovers

Been doing it since loafers

Spitting with the olders, and I had in-line rollers

Hated school my mum bought me Gola’s

Now I rub serious shoulders

Got friends that deliver cocaine, and I got friends that’s delivering sofas

Five-yard box man are poachers, Golden Boot man are Ruud van Nis'

'Nuff emcees wanna ring my phone but I can’t connect like a two-man kiss

I used to love my rap, I was 2Pac that, I was Wu-Tang this

One double-oh real, three-piece meal, I’m healthy I never done fruit and fish

This girl’s blind to my love, ain’t feeling my words like braille

I wore my crocodile shoes, but Jimmy got drunk and broke your nail

Badmouth pro, make a diss count, and I ain’t talking mid-summer sale

Quick backshot on a female cop is the last time that I had feds on a tail

I’m a Welsh boy like Gareth, but I got too many friends on bail

Went Greece and I came home pale

Woke up on a network rail

I ain’t bagging up drugs, so what we sell is on a different scale

Locs, shoulda gone Sweet Valley High, I’m old-school like Martin and Gale

I got a cup that I wanna fill up, I got something that I wanna bill up,

we ain’t done

Might see me doing bits in the sun, late for the airport driving a tonne

And I got one girl still jumping the gun so I stopped seeing her when it

stopped being fun

Pass me a spliff and a rum, pass me a kick and a drum

It’s Locs, I get popping, bopping, avoiding my Sky Bet login

Bone and skin never not been thin but my lungs don’t work so I might get jogging

TV laptop, might get to flogging

Ain’t been shopping and my trainers bogging

These days I don’t getta wagwan, back in the day my door wouldn’t stop knocking

One two boogie I boogie, yeah I go uptown clubs in a hoodie

Give girls buzz for the woody, high-grade, look in the jar that’s cookie

Still walk through Boots for the pussy, I was in grassroots, didn’t see

I always knew they jacked in the city, but I still wanna know who killed Pookie

And I ain’t no rookie when it comes to the verse, ain’t no rookie when it comes

to the mic

I only came for a drink and dance, you man came for a Facebook like

Bought Paul Smith, still wore Nike

Three-piece meal on the back of the bike

I’m from Rumney where it ain’t too sunny and Friday’s always a fight

Buh!