Krept & Konan - Khalas Lyrics
Get the lyrics to the song: Khalas by Krept & Konan at LyricsKeeper.com.
Khalas
Khalas Lyrics |
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What Are The Lyrics For Khalas By Krept & Konan?
Yeah, RA
(You know what time it is) Krept, Tally Mad ting, sad ting Been real (maniac, cool) (My brudda) Greazy ting (Play Dirty) Every fucking time Ready for it How many times? I've got dargs that pop off singles for 'em (F*ck all these youts, gas) Tally the madman Any MC, I'll kalash man Krept, Tally, badman, Afghan F*ck anyone coming at man, what? Spin who? F*ck that, man's on job Sixteen spun you, sent man shop Which yout? Come then, bet man flop None of you mugs can tek man's spot Long way from Gipset Tally No BRITs, no GRAMMYs, Christians, akhis Kids, no daddies, pissed in alleys Spliffs and ammi, sticks and ballies Clips and strallies, rinsing maggies Lifting fassies, chip from cabbies Linking baddies, gripsing Abbie Tits and batty, dicks and fanny Gyal move slutty, I'm ringing her for the ucky Cats in Surrey, my niggas still in the gully Max, no flurry, you niggas thinking it's funny Till the rocket's out the pocket and all up inna your tummy Where's all the Charlie you selling up in the party, nigga? Where's the Cavalli, your money and the Versace, nigga? Where's all your honeys? Say that you get the punani, nigga Now we getting money, we must be Illuminati Krept, Tally, deep within the streets, miss him G, listen, I eat riddims, I'll keep spinning Sneak dissing, keep digging, I'll Meek Mill him Peak for 'em, keep killing, I'll reaper 'em Best in the country, beg someone touch me Skets wanna suck me, text me for uck, G Feds on a fuckery, tek 'way my young G I don't give a f*ck if Metro trust me I can't believe this shit They compare me to wack MCs, neeky pricks I'm from that south side era, man are G for dis That RA gangster grime, that greazy shit It's all real They can't tek man's sauce still Free up Fems, Weeps, Snap, Goddy Fam, they're all hill RA is R-A-W You know that, that had the road mad No metaphor, just smack and know facts When I clap MACs, it's bags and dog tags So don't rap back, just clap your own back Yeah, the akh's back, it's that, it's all mad Way back from Pac-Man to [?] Had that one a moped in a backpack, man Ride up, jump off the bike and bap-bap And I still ain't taking no backchat Nowadays, man think they're bad on Snapchat I'll back out mad straps and snap off snapbacks (Kaboom) Cuh when I go to the function Big hand ting, whip it out like a truncheon Three .45s like a bus going Junction Yeah, them man there rap, but they lie about their dumpings I just know if I let the MAC go Suttin's getting fried like a dumpling And it's proven Everybody you see me with, they're movers I'm the real deal, they're YouTubers I was on smoke, they was on computers School days, badness, badding up tutors Riding with hand tings hanging off scooters Never been a has-been, banging on Judas Real life shankings, claret on Pumas Real life cabbaging characters and Lugers Steel pipe damaging faggots and losers Real life, managing havoc and rumours Jail life, mad ting, whacking up shooters So don't let me let off You was on a train, I was on a sweatbox I was in the rain, you was on your Xbox Cocaine, tryna network to a next spot Dem times dere, my cousin caught a next shot Out in yard, tryna line up a headshot Flew back home tryna get it by the headlock I was getting boxes, banging it in Z shots Then I see a .44 peel back a headtop Seen a MAC mek a man twist like a dreadlock Switch it Ain't top three? That's an insult These neeks don't bang, they ain't involved Black bag full of ink notes PCs had me getting out windows In banger whips doing petty runs Got savages that ain't 21 Nearly got grabbed from the firearms I was living with Ma's, now I'm buying yards Palace to Heath, I've got gang in the streets Free Snapper and Weeps These rappers are neeks, they ain't clapping on heat They're just rapping on beats Put a akh in [?] with a passion for beef Got your slag on her knees I was chatting to T while I sat in the heat With crack in my jeans Wrap scarf or a black mask, wap parked in a cat's yard Black heart, never act soft [?] in a packed dance, better act fast If that barks, that's your hat gone And I was tryna bag plants Dash past in a cab car Blacked-out with a fat arse Splash large when I'm at Shard Rap star wearing Trapstar All I see is nerds and fakers Your Rolex ain't got papers Normal weed in a medicine bottle I don't wanna hear about flavours Crack in a [?], rap like a freestyle I was sixteen with the MAC at Monique's house Flat with my feed out, stack in the meanwhile Neeks on the net, I'm [?] on the rebound They're only bad when they login Think you're sick till you're cold in a coffin Rudeboy like Rihanna Before all this, I was robbing For a Kilo Echo Yankee Bro will Papa Oscar Papa At your Bravo Oscar Yankee Put him to Bravo Echo Delta My don's in Huntercombe, shit's still active I want a hundred Ms quick like Gatlin You would think my G's from Mozart Selling [?] had the tings dem rattlin' All this bread and you think I never bought no tings for the Gs dem? Blud, don't even You'll see nuttin' but trackies, TNs My niggas are able to end your weekend Too cold You're better than who, bro? I phoned up Abz, he got two bookings He's moving too sho Get my cards out, unlock the Wraithe I change my suit, I cop some Ace I took your girl, don't be so mad I'd put anything on it, your queen's a slag There's no reversing like a king When it gets on top 'cause man, I'll pitch in Three twos, you'll hold six when it hits him Three eights will have man skipping None of these MCs are levelling You think these jokers are anything? Play your cards right, streets are mad, akh Hold your own or be another blackjack What, G? Top three niggas, know Krept is Ain't old school? Then you probably won't get this Madman Femz had it out all reckless Banger and the mash and he done it with breakfast Sprayed in the crib, man done it with Westwood Out of the blue like bruddas in Deptford Real Artillery, nuttin' was censored Locking off raves, man are running through entrance Got Gs in the ends too My Gs, we offend too You ain't buying no arsenal Now you're who the docs need to attend to Come a long way from me and Snap Capone Tryna go country Feds took the whip on a fuckery, left man stranded in Wooly I could've strangled 'em, pussy You ain't grabbed no shotties, clapped nobody Catch no bodies, wrap no Bobby Not my brudda, don't @ nobody She sat pon cocky, no back, no doggy Dead Comment on my man's pics? You're a beg Click-clack-blaow, watch niggas go death F*ck that, right now, nigga, I'm vex Contract signed, six-figure, no less Stop holding your fist like Arthur Like bro ain't got a ting for the drama Switchblade get your wig shaved Believe in your bloodclart barber Black nigga chilling with corporates F*ck who's feeling important You brag 'bout whips, that's awkward Your whip probably cost my insurance I've lost my insanity Bought a chain, I've spent your salary My darg on savagery They nicked my chargie for battery Tally's back, it can't be You just brought back the dark me You just brought back Tsunami |
Who Wrote Khalas By Krept & Konan?
Casyo Johnson, Karl Wilson
|
What's The Duration Of The Khalas By Krept & Konan?The duration of Khalas is 7:43 minutes and seconds. |
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