Mad About Bars - S4-E23 PT 1

Brigades
The Voice of the Streets
Wait, that’s Sapphire Beats
So you can’t say we don’t listen
I been seeing the comments, you lot have been hitting me up
It’s time for the Homerton Sensei
Come on, Sapphire Beats, One
Mad About Bars
Devilish stepping, that’s back road cheffings
From youngers to olders still leaving their bredrins
Six shot wap tryna turn man Dende, do you comprende? You’re dead and I meant it
Won’t come back like Red Dead Redemption, whack that melon, his juice starts
smelling
Rip that top, that’s drip I’m setting, that’s drip I’m setting
Hop out the four door truck, got man doing up Crazy Taxi
I smoked little man in the cabby, head back gone like he’s smoking on Cali
Fuckin' patty, just screaming, «allow it, I’m not involved»
Snapchat check you on who you swore, dip that down to the rasclart bones
Civilian pushing and screaming out, «no», knife work dope, ching that boy
Don’t scream, «oi"'cause they’ll just blow, then just grab it and snatch his
soul
SK with the spinner, you best duck low, them man can tell with the bag
I wanna trap loads of pinkies, I swear I’m in love with the bands
One Leg said he hit the belly, that’s how many Z’s in the back?
Break that down and invest in waps, I really do live what I rap
They don’t wan' see V pull up, hop out and slap it like my sweet one’s back
Overlap, then come back, circle again 'till someone turns pack
No initiation, if you get jumped, you get whacked
We don’t do no chat
I’m with ST making devilish plans, I’m with KO making it happen
Double tap it, crashing, you do that, I splash it
I’m on badness, they buck into me and vanish
Get caught, leave man planking, napping, disappear like magic
V9 too devilish, kidnap yutes and watch him do coke
Snort that shit to the dome, should’ve never tried run with the dough
Weapons out, search and destroy, don’t come back 'till you find that boy
I’m Venomous Bopping when points get scored, two for one, you know how it goes
V9 bad, I’m realer than most, ching man down 'till my palms gets sore (Polo's
got that juice)
'Till my palms gets sore