Fire in the booth Splash Music Group (SMG) (Ft. Russ Millions & Taze)

[Part 1: Produced by Gotcha]

[Intro: Russ, Taze]
Yeah, Russ
(Gotcha Bxtch)
Big up Charlie (Done know, let's get it)
Big up Mr. WOT, big up Trey, you feel me
Snoopy, everyone, everyone, see you
Listen, ay, listen

[Verse: Russ, Taze]
Stop scruffin', you're on nothing
'Nuff of my pagans bled
Can't talk 'bout Russian, are you buzzin'?
When your best friend's dead
One love to my brothers
On my mothers, all of my dargs get bread
Best duck for cover, big brucker, tryna take off heads
Ain't cuffin' no bitch, love peng gyal with ankle bracelets
Thigh tattoo and look at her hips
Dick that quick, can't carry my kid
Ends splash that, 8 man in the whip
Stick and move on all of them pricks
Crash that whip get left on bonnet
O's my bro for him, you get whipped
Don't give me the chat when I'm rolling
Mush, I will unveil what I'm holding
Get him, hold him, fork him, akh
Man's not inna this joketing
So I don't fuck with banter
'Cah my head too fizzy like Fanta
And I was in the trap on Christmas
Like, long time I can't see Santa
Charge, charge, chuck through peds and I'm choppin' off cars
How he get away? How he run so fast?
Babe Ruth whack Bruce
Do Phil if I'm onto Grant
So I do you if I'm on your brudda
Chit chat bludda, back your ting, big man don't bother
Tek man's tings, that's the real don dada
Tryna hit man's turban
Shush got chinged, but the prick ain't learning
Live in the flesh, it's curtains
Ain't put nuttin', them boys some virgins
Blood on my knife go purging
Splash out the place, leave families hurtin'
Riri I'm working, 8 in the whip no belt man's lurkin'
Good yute shh, he gotta cheat
Good batty gyal your cousin man jeet
Got a man down, but he still tweets
Next time we meet you're going 6 feet
Russ with the Russ, man gun lean
Man dip splash on all o' your team
Try come Penge, Fassy or Mad
Try cut thru, your window got smashed
View your area then I come
How ya think I got man down on my ones?
How ya think I got man down with some?
Ding dong whiz, pulling up at mum's
Hear this I gotta bun this youT
Got got already but he still act rude
Jack this dude and he calling my phone
I'm telling man I ain't running this food, no
Charge on the opps like su-mo
Just got a pack hit soon, go
On you and your crew, bro
What you gonna do, though?
He got away I'm gutted
What, please come back and bring, bring
Bring all your bad boy cousins
'Cause I'm still here with Russian
Put it on me see a opp man press it, no ramping like bro just shell it
Pagan boys just tweak and leg it, gelato flavours, **** bill it
The back's outrageous, Russ wan grip it
Ying and Yang, keep bisheads kiddin'
Them man ain't bad just love stab women
Spot my man I'm Olympic Chinging
Them man been chatting alot, I try double tap on the opps
Hit jamz your lucky it flopped, try put your face on the top
Gun lean, I don't diddy bop
She still quint and kotch on this cock
Still mish and mash for that dot
Ramsey or rock with that dots
Look, come round come round gunning [?] try bun him
Don't chat on the net 'bout bunnin'
Oh my God, why the fuck you running?
Where's that chap from earlier? Hop that fence fantastic hurdler
You must be frassed, there ain't no burner
Fam, I bussed them attempted murders
Look, my niggas bang, your niggas ran
Then why the fuck the pussy wan risk it?
Try back his mindi, he did raise his hand
Then I bruck man's bones like biscuit
Palefic, back my ting go ballistic
Try tek his life, I just missed it
She suck my dick and you lipsed it, ay