Property Picking

(album: Third Avenue - 2019)

Property picking, properly dripping, I'm
Poverty driven, I'm not gonna listen
Feds want me locked in a prison
Breathing but not really living
'Cause I started with rocks in the kitchen
Now Fred's in a foreign, you're not gonna miss him

Look, what you telling me, bro?
This ain't no loud, what you selling me, though?
Last two weeks, ten in a row
None of them sleep here, I'm sending 'em home
They get shot up for getting involved
And get on the phone like I never did know
Most of these rap boys never did road
So look at me wrong, man, I'm getting 'em poled
Yeah, I just bought a yard, I went property picking
You know me, I'm properly dripping
I'm driving the Bentley but poverty driven
Mummy said that I'm not gonna listen
All of them feds want me locked in a prison
Where you're breathing but not really living
All 'cause I started with rocks in the kitchen
Now Fred's in a foreign, you're not gonna miss him

I'm about, the top of it's missing
Smoking loud and I'm with the don's missus
High in the clouds but she's dropping her knickers
This is 'cause I'm a popular figure
Yeah, I'll run up in Fendi, no robbery
All the sexy ones tell me they're on to me
Twenty racks in my pocket, I'm out on a shopping spree
I beg you, don't bother me
Is that the police tryna follow me?
My nigga, let's switch up the route
My girl just wants me to give her the truth
But if I do that, we'll be finished for true
Stomp the boy in my Jordans, 4 in the morning
When I should've been touring
Yo, I got more trainers than sense
And and I got more paigons, no friends

What you telling me, bro?
This ain't no loud, what you selling me, though?
Last two weeks, ten in a row
None of them sleep here, I'm sending 'em home
They get shot up for getting involved
And get on the phone like I never did know
Most of these rap boys never did road
So look at me wrong, man, I'm getting 'em poled
Yeah, I just bought a yard, I went property picking
You know me, I'm properly dripping
I'm driving the Bentley but poverty driven
Mummy said that I'm not gonna listen
All of them feds want me locked in a prison
Where you're breathing but not really living
All 'cause I started with rocks in the kitchen
Now Fred's in a foreign, you're not gonna miss him

Send my youngins in cabs with the hammers
Put it down with the slags and the badders
Talking smoke, that ain't nothing to me
I flooded the piece, spent a hundred with ease
Look, my youngins want guns and they're coming to me
But if you ask mum, I'm the son of her dreams
Fendi bag on her tea, covered in fleas for a hundred a piece
Listen, I'm known for blowing them racks
Facts, but I used to be homeless and that
If that's your girl, go and hold on to that
If I roll in and snatch, she ain't phoning you back, no
My niggas are frozen in black
Little V Dotz came holding the wrap
His shotty is bookey, not just a slap
So I told him don't bring it no closer than that

Yeah, I just bought a yard, I went property picking
You know me, I'm properly dripping
I'm driving the Bentley but poverty driven
Mummy said that I'm not gonna listen
All of them feds want me locked in a prison
Where you're breathing but not really living
All 'cause I started with rocks in the kitchen
Now Fred's in a foreign, you're not gonna miss him
Yeah, I just bought a yard, I went property picking
You know me, I'm properly dripping
I'm driving the Bentley but poverty driven
Mummy said that I'm not gonna listen
All of them feds want me locked in a prison
Where you're breathing but not really living
All 'cause I started with rocks in the kitchen
Now Fred's in a foreign, you're not gonna miss him