Red Riding Hood Lyrics – Clavish

[Verse]
I got weapon on tap when and if you’re ready
40 pieces, Glocks and semis
I made Polydor millions of pounds, literally
I should’ve been rich already
I’ma drive past if I see huh, walking, lacking, Rashford’s a snitch already
I know A, his trigger finger happy
I’m probably gonna cop a clip extended
Them ZK knives ain’t bending
Free smoke, not from Benson
He don’t do drills, just bench him
How many waps did I buy before I thought ’bout buying a pendant?

How many walking packs still pending?
I can get bars of chocolate, Penguin
Uptown where I go crazy, spending
I go Hatton and catch the flu
What I’m not running to is Lemsip
If the charge ain’t murder, at least attempt it
You ain’t done neck, chest, belly and back, back, belly and chest
Not many get tested
Giving out testers
If he can’t drive, I’ll be giving out Vespas
Don’t lose breath tryna run for your life
Sold food on my block with blood on my knife
Taped pagans strips whilst running a line
Stop the song if you heard me telling a lie
Yeah, that’s what I thought
I just made her head hot, all the stuff that I bought
You wear ballies, but tell me what you done for the war
I wear ballies with fame, I ain’t tryna get caught
Prolly in the LV store, drop ten, twenty and more
I made the hood that I bang for hot way before K-Trap made Warm
Don’t ask if I’m sure, I give hoes sore throats
It was a fiend that taught me how to whip coke
All my jeans Amiri
Slide opp block, it’s never me that’s steering
Couple of times could’ve got me, nearly

Rick Owen, Givenchy, that’s what I’m wearing
My diamonds clear, you can see that clearly
Hoes think I’m a trick so none of them air me
And I got old friends, can’t none of them hear me
Used to look up to a couple of rappers
I mean look up to a couple of cappers
And their entourage ain’t denying their capping
Ask Melly or Keeks if I care ’bout cameras
Day-Date bread what I put in for hammers
Day-Date on my wrist, but it glide, not tick
Got here ’cause of talent, not riding d!ck
Little old me was sick, no ins on the whip that I’m riding in
Turnt my fav’ opp little red riding hood
CC flap bag, but she knows I’m toxic
My younging turn blade colour red, not brown
So don’t let him hear you got bags and boxes
Fifty a show, but the fans gone mosh pit
She already know when I nut, I’m offski
Unless she suck it up properly, then it’s a problem