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Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Miles Robert Holliday
Songwriter
Lyrics
Opps all laugh at me, they're dummies
Don't suppose they find it funny
When we pull up to the club
With cars and drugs and girls and money
If you pick a fight with me, you know who's pulling out the shotty
When we pull up to the club
With cars and drugs and girls and money
I'm posh, and I know it, and I flaunt it
When I ride 'round town in a blacked out Bentley
You'll know you aren't respawning
And when I pipe man down with a hundred rounds
You know I'll be back by morning
And if opps see me with tea and biscuits, they don't need no warning
I'm M-T-S-G, and I don't cap in raps
And unlike those septic tank Yanks, I don't get shot in maths
We ride Lambos, not cabs
Pay at restaurants, no tabs
Posh boy, with a flow so infectious, my opps needed Covid jabs
Bass, money, fancy clothes
Opps and coppers, I dispose
Sticks, stones, break my bones
Still got rich off Tory loans
Rock, roll, Rolling Stones
Make that cheese, provolone
See my opps all down the road, I block their path like traffic cones
Opps all laugh at me, they're dummies
Don't suppose they find it funny
When we pull up to the club
With cars and drugs and girls and money
If you pick a fight with me, you know who's pulling out the shotty
When we pull up to the club
With cars and drugs and girls and money
Opps all laugh at me, they're dummies
Don't suppose they find it funny
When we pull up to the club
With cars and drugs and girls and money
If you pick a fight with me, you know who's pulling out the shotty
When we pull up to the club
With cars and drugs and girls and money
Roast dinner, Sunday lunch
Tea and biscuits, lovely brunch
Down at Crufts, lovely bunch
Fist of gold, pricey punch
Roast dinner, Sunday lunch
Tea and biscuits, lovely brunch
Down at Crufts, lovely bunch
Fist of gold, pricey punch
Opps all know we have a plan
Windsor Castle, where we hang
They never come 'round here, 'cause we defend our land
Pull up with the gang, gang
Pull up, let it bang, bang
Opps all scared, when we pull up with the gang, gang, gang
Opps all laugh at me, they're dummies
Don't suppose they find it funny
When we pull up to the club
With cars and drugs and girls and money
If you pick a fight with me, you know who's pulling out the shotty
When we pull up to the club
With cars and drugs and girls and money
Writer(s): Miles Robert Holliday
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