Lyrics The Cold Room - S2-E1, Pt.1 - WorkRate feat. Tweeko & Mixtape Madness

(Senseii)
Free all the drillers and fuck all the opps
I'm a lethal hitter and I fuck tops
We rise up spinners and nines of Glocks
More times, still slide on guys with the dots
Grrr, bop, bop!
(Ayy, Tweeko mixed this, you know? It sounds cold)

You riz it and banged for Instagram
You bitch nigga, you should have tits and back
Anytime I heard they skidded on gang
I took that wap to the RL flats

Me and bro both on chingings
One, two's, rizzin', no helmets on hats
We yinged him bare, intensive care
Like how many opp boys shoulda been dank?

Backstrap that, can't bring him back
'Cah we back our straps, and tap, tap
Come to the six, we're comfy, facts
Big nine millimetres, G-locks too

If bro's on you then I'm on too
Got bare rum-juice for my sixer goons
Back it, splash it, tear up fabric
On the ram-bizz, just sinkin' through

More be arms, there's be fresh coupe
Got love for my bros 'cah they love me too
Big bro in the booth, that's big racks too
You can call that bash to the millions crew

The man don't do what gangnem do
I never done what their man done
You ain't seen a wap that grrt, grrt
You don't wanna see that SK dump

I ain't never seen me a opp not run
Pull up in a opp block, watch - run
Try have a knife fight then clocked his lung
Cah he still got with my favourite one

Wallahi, I ain't lyin', I had a Samurai ting
Chinese writin', numerous knifins
How many guys them sides turnt Usain?
Yohan Blake, I was right behind 'em

Our riders ridin', I'm right beside him
How many times had the crime rate risin'?
Couldn't give a toss if it's out or in house
Season beef 'til the beef is fryin'

Fuck the feds, had a Tetch on my head
Screamin' out "M on my door," weren't flyin'
And I don't know who's dead or who bined him
Neck by the metal, the metal was silent

You know my name, but don't know my face
I don't know if I'm sayin' it, you don't know my pain
You ain't seen your left-hand switchers, it's crazy
Conversatin' cah it's life he's facin'

You ain't seen a right hand dac' with Gazy
How could I bill him daily? Rate me
All 'cause I'm shinin' things, gone my way
Coulda had half my plate, it's brazy

Eight-week trial, mumzy cryin', popsy agin' patiently waitin'
Got that verdict, tears of joy then I picked up my boys outside, ol' Baily
Eight-week trial, mumzy cryin', popsy agin' patiently waitin'

(Got that verdict, tears of joy then I picked up my boys outside, ol' Baily)
SB's back