Come Look Songtext
von J Hus

Come look ′pon me, can you see me fully?
William Hill, ten man outside the bookie
Come gamble your life, I dare you, pussy
Burner in the bush if I keep it cushty
Stratford, the originals, that's Vivi and Bully
Where′s my cash-grabbers and Gaza Woody?

Dutty hood rat, gyal just lookin' for nookie
But I don't even look her
Just copped a new splasher
I′m lookin′ for cookies
Then cop another cooker
Balls off my jooker, made Du'a in Jumu′ah

True say it's Friday, may all the oppers fry
Ameen, all my niggas come alive
Fry his bean, broad day, Summer time
The rider team, Axeman, KV and Skai
I can′t even lie, me, I love the other side
But let me talk paper, let me not glamorise


Nah, fuck the paper
Let me tell you 'bout the hammer size
Let me take you through the hood
Let me summarize
Do you know how to lie, lookin′ in momma's eyes?

When you know there's somethin′ missin′ from a kitchen drawer
Mummy, don't know what I′m on a mission for
Put two in his chest and give him some more
Give 'em galore, had to kick in the door
Playin′ sports every day, when you're living to score

Now his heart, and his lungs, and liver is sore
Dirty rider, livin′ on his last score
Make them niggas suffer in this Newham Borough
My nigga in the can ridin' time concurrent
Weatherman, had to go there and change the current

Defense is offense, go and touch his noggin
They be talkin' greasy
But I promise they′re nothin′
Cut the first man, have the rest of them cuttin'
I′m not sellin' draws, but what I got in my paws
Big shotgun, I told you today I′m shottin'


It′s really shockin', electric shockin'
When you finish all your bells
You gotta gun, buck him
Take all his goods, known to lock off the shoobs
′Member it was five man had to hold up the hood
We had to hold it up, hurry, load it up

Put my chinger in his belly, now, my borers stuck
That′s disgustin', what you discussin′?
Hangin' on the other side, there′s repercussions
Left his face red up, now, you think it's crushin′
Left his face red up, now, you think he's blushin'
Gyal used to diss us, call us tracksuit boys

Hand ting or the shotty, I can bang two toys
Northside or Southside, go and make your choice
Really and truly, it′s my set that′s makin' noise
The one that′s got the machine
You won't hear his voice
That′s the one you'll avoid

We all went to the party, he got destroyed
No invitation, maddest niggas, baddest niggas of our generation
They don′t know gangster, make a demonstration
Light him up, blaze him up, that's the cremation
Freemason, go and touch three of them
Man start celebratin', that′s the elevation (elevation)

Ah, shit, we run this shit, not them
On the block 24-7, three-six-five
It′s us never them, always outside, never inside

Us-man, run the shit, dem man can never catch up (grr!)
We all got this block on the lock
We run this shit
Stratford's shit, big guns, big money
Ask your bitch about us

Ask them niggas about us, they know
Yeah, baby, hahaha, fuck you niggas!
Don′t say militancy