M.A.R.K

(Ayy, Lucid, turn that shit up)
Turn that shit all the fucking way up, man
Only way is up anyway, man
Yo

Throw my hat to the side and my gun in my boxers
I feel like the man I do, I do
Say a prayer to God, f-forgive me for the things I do
Three pistols outside
I can talk my shit, say a thing or two
I'm in love with money, I love mummy
Even when Bands ain't in the mood, he ain't bad, it's straight cap
Go let the tray clap, run with your friends or defend it
Sh-shoot, never seen, won't lend it
G-lock attachment's extended
Yo, there's a war in the ends, we're firing skengs
Hashtag, lacking is ended, I never pretended
Spinnin' your block, baow, baow, forget the friendship
I love money, and it loves me too
With all this money I can buy a new gun
Tryna cop me a yard
Take my girl to the shard and watch the view
Bro cut, slide out with the dots
Give him the-, he didn't know what to do
Lil' g's charged up, left you scarred up
Bro got masked up and he shot a yout
We don't sell guns, we buy and fire them
I ain't a liar, need some killers, I hire them
Air out the flames like firemen
Lil' bro by my side, got more than 5 of them
Put all my trust in the O, my opps are wet, put them in the dryer then
Collars are chavs, so go on and try it then
'Bout to drop my mixtape, go buy it then
I lost Mark, that's M.A.R.K, the king from the start
I lost smegs, so much stress to my head
I felt all the pain to my heart
Put my heart on my sleeve and it rained in the dark
Shoot with skill, you can train in the park, I'll aim at your clart
Hashtag play with a star, don't play with mans

Throw my hat to the side and my gun in my boxers
I feel like the man I do, I do
Say a prayer to God, f-forgive me for the things I do
Three pistols outside
I can talk my shit, say a thing or two
I'm in love with money, I love mummy
Even when Bands ain't in the mood
The Rolls-Royce got lights on the top
I'm the G.O.A.T., so I'm coming back right for my spot
I don't like people that say my mind's evil
I don't like shit, let alone like all my opps
I can strike all the dots, swing it and fight for my block
Lil' bro's tryna slide with the Glock
Izzpots in jail, he loves knifin' a lot
The internet typing a lot (Bands)
I know my opps must hate that back in the day, all of them were fans
You're a lucky lil' boy if my machine jams
You better get low if my machine slams
Smooth with it, head top, I'm shooting it
Walk with it, back street gang
Bro-bro's driving I'm in the passy, man (passy, man)
Straight slappy gang
Yo, put my life on the line, I just walk with it
Shit's unfortunate, I got a voice so I talk with it
Giving my sisters hugs
I tell 'em it's love, can never get bored of it
Justice for M, I'm sorting it
Literally all of it
Coke in the club, got everyone snorting it
Shotty too long so we shorten it (ying that)
If anyone's run, bro corner them
R.I.P.s in 3's when you come from the hood though
Broadwater Estate, me, I was in SJ
History, may I still ask if it's good though
We used to get 'round, everyone get down
Leave with a blacked out three door called Punto
Pull up to man, whagwan? Are you good, bro?
Fly at the next man's hood show (brr, boi, boi, boi)

I love money, money
Bands