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[Lyrics] J Hus Come Look Lyrics

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Come look ‘pon me, can you see me fully?

William Hill, ten man outside the bookie

Come gamble your life, I dare you, pussy

Burner in the bush if I keep it cushty

Stratford originals, that’s Vivi and Bully

Where’s my cash-grabbers and Gaza Woody?

Dirty hoodrat gyal just lookin’ for nookie

But I don’t even look her, just copped a new splasher

I’m lookin’ for cookies, then cop another cooker

Balls off my jooker, made D’ua in Jumu’ah

True say it’s Friday, may all the oppers fry

Ameen, all my niggas come alive

Fry his bean, broad day, summertime

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The rider team, Axeman, KV and Skai

I can’t even lie, me, I love the other side

But let me talk paper, let me not glamorise

Nah, fuck the paper, let me tell you ’bout the hammer size

Let me take you through the hood, let me summarise

Do you know how to lie lookin’ in mama’s eyes?

When you know there’s somethin’ missin’ from her kitchen drawer

Mum, you don’t know what I’m on a mission for

Put two in his chest and give him some more

Give ’em galore, had to kick in the door

Playin’ sports every day when you’re livin to score

Now his heart, and his lungs and liver is sore

Dirty rider, livin’ on his last score

Make them niggas suffer in this Newham Borough

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My nigga in the can ridin’ time concurrent

Weatherman, had to go there and change the current

Defense is offense, go and touch his noggin

They be talkin’ greasy, but I promise they’re nothin’

Cut the first man, have the rest of them cuttin’

I’m not sellin’ drawers, but what I got in my paws

Big shotgun, I told you, today, I’m shottin’

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It’s really shockin’, electric shockin’

When you finish all your bells, you gotta gun buck him

Take all his goods, known to lock off the shoobs

‘Member it was five man had to hold up the hood

We had to hold it up, hurry, load it up

Put my chinger in his belly, now my borers stuck

That’s disgustin’, what you discussin’?

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Hangin’ on the other side, there’s repercussions

Left his face red up, now you think he’s crushin’

Left his face red up, now you think he’s blushin’

Gyal used to diss us, call us tracksuit boys

Hand ting or the shotty, I can bang two toys

Northside or Southside, go and make your choice

Really and truly, it’s my set that’s makin’ noise

The one that’s got the machine, you won’t hear his voice

That’s the one you’ll avoid

We all went to the party, he got destroyed

No invitation

Maddest niggas, baddest niggas of our generation

They don’t know gangster, make a demonstration

Light him up, blaze him up, that’s the cremation

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Freemason

Go and touch three of them man, start celebratin’

That’s the elevation

Ah, shit, we run this shit, not them

On the block 24/7, three-six-five

It’s us, never them

Always outside, never inside

Us man run this shit, them man can never catch up (Grrt)

We all got this block on the lock, we run this shit

Stratford shit, big guns, big money

Ask your bitch about us, ask them niggas about us, they know

Yeah, baby

Fuck you niggas

Don’t say militancy

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