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about 8 years ago
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Lyrics of Who Needs a Hook? by Section Boyz
He was making all these faces till I brought it out
Think he saw the sprays, he′s acting normal now
Coming like the bailiff, coming do your house
Put fuckboys on faces, I left my smoke in the house
With some uck faces in the naughty house
And I don't like strangers, so don′t bring them round
Talking 'bout this money, you look like a nounce
He thinks that I think that I'm lucky, she loves sleeping now
(2: K′Nine)
Who′s that kitty on the phone?
Who's that gyal on the line?
What′s that shine on your wrist?
Manaman ain't got time
Get a brick at six
Fuck around, have it gone by nine
That batty move stiff
Man a come like Rottweiler
Stepped in the crib, put down some jims
Looked in the mirror and smiled
Manaman′s sick, grip up the stick
Cock it back and go wild
Money give a young nigga power
Tryna have it long like a tower
Like know we on these streets
On these beats, man come foul
(3: Sleeks)
Tryna get straight bricks
Make a young boy take trips
Doing gear six on a M-way
Hope the road can take this
When I roll it's straight piff
Back in the whip, I take risks
Got a green box in the back seat
No first aid kit
I do road tryna get that
Fuck a handout or a set back
Two hands on when I press that
Told man respect when I′m in jet black
Got a peng ting tryna undress man
Like a ironing board, I'mma press that
I see everything live like webcam
But I'm still out′ere tryna get bread back
(4: Deepee)
Man′s just grim
Gonna smooth gyally and up tings
Sideboy in the handcuff ting
Stand up, get your bands up slim
Big play like Sinbad
Man's been bad, I can make a man go swim
Walked in with the gym bag
Looking like man goes gym
I just came back from the T-house
Bando wings on a Nando′s ting
The gang go where man go
You're a bad bro, you can get your mango skinned
Bring arms and aggro
Been afro, looking like I had no trim
Back then when I had no work
Get ′em down on a Rambo ting
(5: Inch)
Wha? I whoop ins
Bare Kwoof, Kwif, Kwaf if you're Kwoofing
One swing to the face that′ll shim
I don't need no gyal, but I'm looking
Fatty on the phone, man say she wanna jook him
Promoter on the phone, man talking ′bout a booking
Tryna stay quiet, but my gyal′s cooking
Sideman get cut off for the looking
Wha? It's peak
Said he was a badman, said he was a G
Said he got the O′s and he fuck with the G's
Said he knew the Section, said he from the Heath
Didn′t know P and he didn't know D
Said he love uck, man′a want up Tuschee
Did you hear these verses lock arff this beat?
If you don't, man might haffi pop arff the street
(6: Littlez)
Tryna get bands in abundance
In the bando with the bandits
Gripping my hands that sandwich
Tryna eat good like a banquet
Money on my mind from my wake up
Gyal got a big batty then shake up
MAC in a man bag
That bag, put it to your face like make up
Paigons, ain't friends, know we don′t make up
Man have been on it from time, you′re late cuz
Lords of the table, counting up papers
Real recognize real, they're strangers
Got ice man′s coat, I might take that
She's breakers, so I might brake that
Still smoking on loud packs
Make gyal turn bad from way back
Writer(s): Fabian Colin Browne, Ryan Lyle, Terell Rookwood, Kemoy Rhoden, Bradley George, Jordan Duncan, Nana Bediako Rogues
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Don't Panic
Album • 2015 • 15 tracks
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🇮🇹 Made with love & passion in Italy 🌎 Enjoyed everywhere