T[H]ANK GOD

Ayy, 10-L, I'm scheming
You see at this point, it's just blessings, blud
See, God won't give it to man on a plate
But he gives man the tools

Uh, there's life and death in the power of the tongue
The longer I reign, the more shallow I become
Been a long time coming, hope it's flowers you've brung
Industry full of the cowards and punks, but powerful ones
I-I play chess with Bobby, say less and body
Man speak out then say "sorry"
'Cah jobs get turned back into a hobby
I just got that biscotti, now beam me up, Scotty
Summertime, I'm way too quady
Scenes in yard, bite life with Poppy
Plaistow boy, went school in Totty
Kicked out year nine, never went colly
Jail fifteen, Hollyoaks and Corrie
Discharge papers, still got a copy
Remind myself how far I've come (Come, come, come, come)
And I'm far from done
Room full of IC3s, but I am the darkest one
Apart from Usain and dem man dere
You ain't seen no run like dis
Campaign rollout, never been done like dis (Mmm)
I'm backstage with the same bruddas that I was frontline with
And they think I've left it
I'm on my unsigned shit, that's hands on, brudda
Manifest and pray for what man wants, brudda
King of my castle, original sandbox lover
Black lock buffer, hand on chopper
Bank job robber, gang on suffer
That's not supper
Ayy, this year's gonna be a blacked-up summer