[Lyrics] Naira Marley – Vawulence Ft. Backroad Gee Lyrics

Lyrics
Nibo?
Yebo
(This is crazy)
(Oh, yeah)
Turn a Q to a ounce (to a ounce)
Turn a ounce to a nine (to a nine)
And, nine turned to a box (box)
And, the box came with a strap (strap)
Strap came in the box (box)
The gun’s real, not props (props)
Put your main man in a box (box)
Fuck around, get got (get got)
We the kids your mama warned you about (we’re violent)
What the fuck you really talkin’ ’bout? (Gangster move in silence)
Otr, you know I’m on the run (fuck the trident)
We the kids your mama warned you about (nigga, we’re violent)
And, I stay on my gang shit
Big dick energy, big dick bandit
When we pull up, that’s tragic
Caught three-ones, yeah, that’s a hat trick
Violate, get quick response (‘Ge-‘Ge)
Dem no say Toys R Us (uh-uh)
Dem no want war with us
If I put the whistle on it, you won’t hear no noise
All you hear is
You didn’t hear shit, right?
Get the job done right
Top striker, no miss and shoot with right
We the kids your mama warned you about (we’re violent)
What the fuck you really talkin’ ’bout? (Gangster move in silence)
Otr, you know I’m on the run (fuck the trident)
We the kids your mama warned you about (nigga, we’re violent)
Turn a mansion to a bando (bando)
Turn Amapiano to a gang song (gang song)
I’m the nigga you can count on
Ak, Tech, MAC, no laptop (ah)
They try ride, dey crash, dey dash
I laugh, who’s that? See a opp, reverse
Work rate mad, I should man of the match
How many man have I put underground?
Shoot in Amiri like Kay Flock
How many man have we sent to Baba God, ah?
Let’s mind the business that pay us
I’ll send Kickz to your door like ASOS (ASOS)
Let me explain why they hate us
Never mind, dem full of shit like anus, uh
L’s for London and Lagos
P’s for Peckham and F’s for famous
We the kids your mama warned you about
What the fuck you really talkin’ ’bout?
Otr you know I’m on the run (OTR, OTR, OTR)
We the kids your mama warned you about (tools up, tools up, tools up)
When it’s war, separate the boys from men (skrrt)
Outside there’s no friends, only brothers over here
Real steppas over here, brick boys over here (what? What?)
Drug dealers over here, boy, stay over there (skrrt)
I’ma slap him, attack him
On a Van Damme ting, them kids can’t hack it
Otr, free the guys can’t play with us, why? (Why?)
Cah shh got bun
More action, less chattin’s
Need more woosh for the splatterin’s
Like my boy said, “Cha pon dem, ” wap’n to dem?
Vroom-skrrt, we there in a sec (skrrt)
I’m the kid you’re mum warned you about
Outside ain’t safe, hold it down
King Brukutu, I’m live in the flesh
When- got shot, I was there