Fire In the Booth - Nines

Shout outs to all the mandem

My 300 Spartans waiting outside the building

Shout out to my guy Jamal too, Dunknow

I got this Fulham chick I known her for time

Before all the ice when I was reloading on Nines

Saw me go from bread and water to lobster and wine

That’s why I never air her calls when she hollas my line

My east ting’s flyer than a poster campaign

Ciroc the same colour as cola champagne

She don’t smoke weed but she’ll roll me up a paper plane

Don’t ask for P’s and she knows that I can make it rain

Tryna achieve my goals

My brum ting saying she might as well had cheated like Keyshia Cole

My west ting be selling coke like a chemist

Booked her a flight from London to Venice

Put a smile on her cute face

I told her we can go shopping when we get there forget a suitcase

My Ealing chick smokes too much weed only with me for the trees

I told that chick to leave

My chick in Church Road’s official

I make her hold my pistol

But she don’t ever give me brain like my ho in Bristol

Suck me off when I’m switching lanes

And I can’t even remember that bitch’s name

Go to Hammersmith smoke on some cannabis

Talk a lot of shit, make her choke on the magic stick ugh

My young ting says she’s gonna give up all of this

Good luck tryna find another baller, bitch

Cause if you change your mind, that’s a waste of time

Cah I’ve got a million bitches in the waiting line

My Hayes ting’s in her own class like detention

But she says I never show her no attention

That’s cah I’m busy tryna work these curbs

Five bricks only paid for the first three birds

Bout Ps and Qs

I make strategic moves

I had hoes when I was broke

I don’t need a ***… Ugh

Now I got my new chick mad at me

Cah I told her I need space like the galaxy

My north chick don’t wanna share, she wants all of Nines

My south ting be throwing up One Arda signs

My L. A chick be practicing her movie script

While I’m in the Base backing up my *** chick

I’m with my white ting, cah it’s fire on the mains

She’s always in the mirror trying on my chains Ugh

My Nigga *** say I’m whipped

Cah I’m always with my Ghanaian chick

And I ain’t even mentioned the groupies yet

Hoodstar my life’s like a movie set

It’s Nines

This guy grew on my estate

Come to my mums yard I never knew he was a snake

Even looked the other way when I heard he was a snitch

But he crossed the line this weren’t over a bitch

Swear down I don’t know how these guys sleep at night

T told me «Don't trust him"but I never see the light

Probably cah I loved him like a little cousin

When them guys violated you I emptied out the

Don’t say the hood if someone asks you where you’re from

No one cares you’re gone

I just hope it burns you when you hear this song

You did this to yourself, you’re a dumb guy

Like you don’t know, Me and Jaz let them fly

Now I can’t look into your sister and your mums eyes

Tell your dad stop acting like his son died

Ugh, The streets thought he was a top shotta

But you ain’t nothing but a liar and a cockblocker

This guy’s breaking my heart, we used to play in the park

Went to weighing up dark, you’ve been a snake from the start

Can’t believe this clown

I even got mad at my guys Snoop and Tiny when they was gonna beat you down

Should’ve let them do this ting

Had plans for us in this music ting

Now if you’re in the hood you lose your bling

Remember when I had you and Snaps moving haze

I sacked you I saw the Judas ways

You was bunnin' on them tails

Gave you onions and a scale

Wouldn’t chuck my brothers girl for all the money in the world

Acting like you love my bro

Bitch ran to the 5−0

Snitch hope you die slow

A million fake friends, feds on my case

I’m still in this bait ends, Z’s in the base Ugh

We used to play fight on a late night

You see the chain’s bright like a brake light

And you ain’t got your wig right, cah you the snake type

I know you wished we stayed tight, cah I’m about to take flight

Strally all up in your dome, if you’re walking through the zone

Don’t be calling off my phone, now you’re all up on your own Ugh

I ain’t down with traitors, I’m all about my paper

The whole hood’s counting on me like a calculator

Ugh, I used to drive this prick

Drop him home when he was sliding on the roads

It’s Nines