Lyrics 9er Ting - KO , Unknown T

More time it's a Niner 'ting
This shit's 'ments!
Homerton B

Summertime gets cold like winter
And when gyal take wood from the back she can feel this splinter
For this D she can ride like Digga
Bro, tried to glide in an O-shaped dinger
Don't run if you see 'dat chinger
Cah I can hear shakes in the back of my head
Like bruck up this nigga
Don't beef or just run from this trigger
In the trap and slang up them baggies
Bandits look happy
Phone up L Trappo, he way too trappy
Slap it in cabbies or make that Dunga in alleys
In the studio smoking on Cali
What's this dusty 'ting you call ammi?
Fuck-off Sammy, ride out to London Fields with a bally

I'm still tryna do it in fields with the mop (you know)
I'm still tryna do it like Shegz
Two flicks in my hand; let's see who bleeds (let's bet!)
Back 'dem blades, put a dag in them, like the heath
We come with shanks, they breeze
The bells for the waps gon' show man speed (bow!)
9-Gang we ain't squashing beef
You're all involved
One way this 'ting gets solved (bow!)
That's exit holes, cheffed or smoked
Either all won't make it home (no way)
Last time shooting I hit that post
Reckon I'll be better now like Malone (I know it)
Any time that we step, no phones
And if we're under arrest then it's 'cause
9 zone; can't run through hair like a comb

OT blinging, man up and get that bread
The beef gets hot round here
Watch the rambo drop to my leg
Cah I got beef with grown-ass men (all of them!)
You can talk on Snap and provoke
One wrong move and you will get poked
Deadpool mask make 'em run like Bolt
And this beef is real, it ain't a joke
More time we don't stunt on tracks
Oh shit, what happened to Asc?
Oh shit, what happened to Lattz?
We don't talk, bro go do the maths
I can see evolution on road
We used to be bros, now he's involved
He's on man, but dis one's timid; I'm still on both

I'm still on both, that's either
When this 'ting sneeze you can get more than a flu or fever (bow!)
Catch this shot like a keeper
Act wrong, you can feel this beater
Beg man try cut thru the Nine
Hold that ching to the neck, make him scream like Bieber

Beg–beg man try cut through the
Bits, get your car smashed or jacked like–
Tried to walk home with his bitch
We were on slip that day, no shivs in the whip
I'm in the back behind tints, I'm baked (I'm baking)
Parked up in the opp estate, waiting for a paigon to pass this way
Grip last trip, now bro wants to test his aim
One blast this gauge (bow!)
I do it for the guy's that's passed away
'Dem boys gotta feel my pain
Free all my mates and the opps that's caged (free 'em)
Get a 'round broad day for the squad (you know)
Me, Wavey, Mazza and Dach;
Man do it in 4's like quad (that's four)
This mop ain't sneezing snot (it aint

Let's go upsuh and provide that bulk
Fuck, the pack look thicker than oak
Gyal know me, I'm the man on road
Good gyal but for me, she's a hoe
Good gyal but for me, she's a hoe
Flip the pack of the weed with the snow
Hit a rack and I'm splitting with bro
Then, back to the quid on the low
Look, ten-toe skidding in fours
Rambo swing tryna ching with force
He got cheffed tryna child-lock doors
Gang soon gon' turn man corpse
Swing them shanks but we swing them too
You know 'bout the 9er crew
Counter-attacking, of course we do
Pull up on–, like peek-a-boo

Step with mates
If bait, change plates
So the jakes don't find this car
Slap this wap, tryna wreck his chest
Bath in pet then I find my yard
Yutes on half, you bruck and they cut
All now they can't find no heart
Young G wan' make P so he's gone OT
I just helped him find his graft
And that girl dead, she got no breast
She's hitting the gym tryna find her ass
K and I Trap; weed or crack
A-to-B I'm tryna find my class
I take two pulls and there's smoke
Give it to bro, that's puff-puff-pass
Roll up and bun, straight in that bud when the 'ting gets rassed