Lyrics Avelino, Loski, Skrapz – Londons Calling

Londons Calling Lyrics – Avelino, Loski, Skrapz

Singer: Avelino, Loski, Skrapz
Title: Londons Calling

Yo, who’s that?
Big boy Skrapz, the one and only
Fam where are you?
Northwest

Say nothing, you gonna hold me down?
Boom
No days off, I ain’t got time to relax
No sidetracks, I ain’t got time for all of that

I’m in a 4×4, two pipes at the back
Dippin’ in and out of lanes through the tiniest gaps
I’ve got killers in my contacts
One hand sign, that’s a done deal, no contracts

I’ve got a household name that stay ringing bells
It isn’t hard to tell that I’m doing well
A wholesale, cook crack ’till my clothes smell
And if it all goes well by the end of the year

then I’m gone, I ain’t going into detail
Penthouses and females
Whole top floor’s full of goons, bad b#tches and weed smell
I got shooters around me with big Desert Eagles

I’m basically paid like it’s legal
And all they need is a reason, trust
Yo
Yo

Who’s that?
It’s V
Yo cuzzy, where are you?
I’m in a mad place right now

Stop playing, cuz man, where are you
North
You gonna hold me down?
Reporting live from the border where it’s borderline

Insane, I go insane, I get bored of lines
But I’m tryna kill it in ’till I’m immortalised
Still tryna get a mortgage, man I’m mortified
‘Cause no one ever taught me ’bout credit, but

Credit to myself, go getters go and get it
Only diesel I could afford were the denims
Now I’m in my diesel feeling gassed, unleaded
Drive got me this, tryna feel alive got me this

New Rollie, make time for me, b#tch
I’m a hustler, I grind for me b#tch
Buss down make you buss it open, shine for me b#tch
I’m a star now

Never got a looking, I’m looking at yards now
I’m in hypebeast, n#gg# calm down
You ain’t got a leg to stand on, put them arms down
Yo

Yo what’s up?
Who’s that?
Big Mulli
Yo cuzzy, where are you?

My phone’s moving moody, where are you?
LF, East side
Hold me down
Look, it’s big As from the East side, how ya livin’?

I’m in the trap where the cats and the mice livin’
Big foreigns, any time you see me whipping
I stays in the trap, that’s how I mind my business
In a dirty kitchen, with the lights flicking

Night shifting all night, all the white licking
I rap now, they know I’m more than nice with it
Ice with it, and I don’t write down my lyrics
And I don’t see no food, I just buy the brizzy

I straight drop it, bring it back and recycle it
And if shorty hella bad I’m re-piping it
And I ain’t with all the talk, I’m on sight with it
The jewels mad, even madder when the lights hit it

I pay next man’s gyal and make them my b#tches
And I don’t spend no time with them
I just blow loud packs, get neck and put pipe in them
Yo

Yo, family
Who’s that?
Loose
Yo, family, where are you?

Harlem, B
Where?
South
Aight, say nuttin’, hold me down

Gang
Yeah, they calling me Loose
I ain’t slipping in the streets, I got a pole when I’m out with my boo
Who’s brave, ay? Run up on who?

I’m in love with designer, drill it in a Canada Goose
Harlem, hold it down for the crew
I coulda broke my hands bagging weight and it’s true
8 dash, but we got about 2

Lack boy, lack boy I got it locked in a shoe
Ay banter, skidding in a 4 pipe
Oh my, oh my, swag looking mazza
Shoulda left the brucky with Amanda

But she bag it up ’nuff times, so I thank her
Buss on my paigons and they ain’t blew back
I’m from the South part, Harlem baby, you knew that
Stepping in Harrods, my Gucci two bags

And my gyal up in Louis, she looking too bad
Yo
Yo
Who’s that?

AJ, cuzzy, come on
Yo, cuzzy, wagwan?
What you telling me, I’m in West, man, come on
Hold me down

I got you, gang
It’s big G Trace O, representing West Zone
Out in all smoking, got no pressure, gang will press chrome
Stretching out these models, back in day I had to stretch O’s

Independent and I got my pendant looking metro
Buss down looking boomin’, got your misses groomin’
Grey trackie got these pengers on my Insta tryna zoom in
Cooly boy I’m coolin’

Louboutin shoes in season, bloody bottoms got me boolin’
Ladbroke Grove you’re groovin’ now
I’m a lover not a loser, i8 cruiser
Fat p#ss# bruiser, always with a shooter

Dailing skatty, stay around in Sammy like Yakuza
You’re thinking that’s your wifey but she gang and she’s a chooser
Girls, they tryna diss me, but
Tracey, I got plenty hoes

Slide up on my n#gg#s, leave your rentals catching plenty holes
Bloody on this f ting, girls ain’t authentic though
Got my strikers making names like Asensio
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Lyrics Avelino, Loski, Skrapz – Londons Calling

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