Correction Lyrics Can’t Rate by Yanko

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Lyrics

6 Shell
H1K made this
Anyone can go
Them man on the corner, spin this whip 180 degrees
Black blade twins, just cheff like we're grating cheese
Gave him six, he put the inches so f**king deep

Anyone can go
So we search for neeks
Spotted dem man on the corner
Spin this whip 180 degrees
Me and Zico, black blade twins, just cheff like we're grating cheese
**** laughed when he gave him six, he put the inches so f**king deep
7 stick with a load of sticks
Now we look like a team of cricketers
If Kizz step with a botty
You know it's packed with two big cylinders
They ride with phones and wet down innocents, how can I rate these idiots?
Ask my man where he's from, why's this yute tryna move oblivious?
Push metal in tissue, you're gonna need more than tissue
All these lies are a f**king issue
Talk this sh*t when the .32 hits you
Trap-trap, man's giving out testers
Wet mans head, now he's a redhead like Whitney from Eastenders
Man pepper up pepper, no piggy
It may be the .32, it may be the dotty
Slap mans head with the shiny bells, now he's the same colour as poppies
We want more bells in the dotty
So we invested in the mozzy
I swear I seen that yute in E16, said "Yanko, man's not oppy"
Said "Yanko, man's not oppy"
Can't rate these punks
Me and S pop doors again
Made that pussio jump
Like Vandoe says
Pop that door, get that done
He caught life
The opp boy escaped
Really and truly my man should have been fried
It's calm, we're not done
Nah-nah, don't think that we're done
You can't go shop when you're lacking
That's mummy losing her son
And that's facts
You best run fast
**** knows, you might get wet in your back
Or you might get wet in your front
Yeah, yeah, get wet in your front
Free Vandoe, Free Y.Smokes
They put that yute in a blunt
Tryna fill up these c**ts
But it's not no d**k that I'm using
Went to the 6, didn't see sh*t
Come back to ends, I'm fuming
Stomp mans head on the yard with Yanko
These man try come to the block
Me and Stainez backed our rambos
The verbal game is washed
Can't even listen to these man's lies
How can I rate these guys?
Chinged them man like I chinged this laser down with the walker razor
Free up my left hand Vader, gave that yute to the undertaker
This mash is a slag, it just wanna beat like Max and Stacy Slater
You snitched on guys from the ends
Now you f**k with ****, you're a f**king traitor
Tear through ribs when I enter Beckton
We have to and get more petty
'Cah we just done laps and the cars on empty
How could you try bore MB for the price of one, he got more than twenty
If I push this ying in your body it'll drip too hard like you're wearing Fendi
N***as know where I'm from
That's Gate, that's Gaza, that's Blacks
Step in the 6 tryna take off hats
Leave him holy like a Sunday ma**
How could you be so wa**?
Lie on my name 'bout how I got splashed
Man can't talk 'bout ****, 'cah I backed my shine and he digital dashed
Countless times I've stepped in ****
He lost his eye when the dose dispatched
Man run up in flats with J
Mandem running intense in backs
Had man running in roads
He almost made two motors crash
Fat boy begged for your lift, open your eyes
He almost packed, I said he almost packed
The mandem blue like Crips
The opp boy drips in blood
How do you take them in?
What, what, they ain't on crud
**** got kicked last week
But it's still on sight if I buck him
Kicked him out 'cah he's wet
But the whole squad ain't on nothing
Like dem man don't make sense
Talk so much 'bout field
But all you man on the bench
One yute stepped out of line
Stainez left him drenched
So don't ever think you can mention bro
You don't wanna see him vexed

Anyone can go
Them man on the corner, spin this whip 180 degrees
Black blade twins, just cheff like we're grating cheese
Gave him six, he put the inches so f**king deep

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