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London's Calling Video (MV)






GRM Daily - London's Calling Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Avelino, AJ Tracey, Skrapz, Asco, Loski ]

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 4x4, 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 bitches 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, bitch
I'm a hustler, I grind for me bitch
Buss down make you buss it open, shine for me bitch
I'm a star now
Never got a looking, I'm looking at yards now
I'm in hypebeast, nigga 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 bitches
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 pussy 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 niggas, 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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[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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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 4x4, 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 bitches 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, bitch
I'm a hustler, I grind for me bitch
Buss down make you buss it open, shine for me bitch
I'm a star now
Never got a looking, I'm looking at yards now
I'm in hypebeast, nigga 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 bitches
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 pussy 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 niggas, leave your rentals catching plenty holes
Bloody on this f ting, girls ain't authentic though
Got my strikers making names like Asensio

The number you have dialed has not been recognised, please check and dial again
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Koby Hagan, Drilloski Loose, Che Wolton Grant, Achi Avelino, Adrian Francis, Mark Christopher Waxkirsh, Curtis Anthony James, Christopher David Kyei
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sentric Music

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