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LYRICS
[Intro] This one's for Lukey, I love you fam Youngest to ever do it, the best The ends will never be the same fam, trust me [Hook] I cry tears in my cup of Hennessey for these fucked up memories I cut niggas off for them bad vibes and them fucked up energies Shouts to the niggas that don't like me, shout out to the ones that are reppin' me Shout out the niggas that tried to finesse me, but I'm too plugged in mentally Heard that wasteman taking shots, but he's just a wannabee Rooney I got niggas on standby, man I got niggas on duty Your life is like a talk show, trust me, that ain't no movie Never ever gonna be a Top Boy, never ever gonna be Lukey [Verse] He said "Skepta, next year don't wanna see any of the mandem on the block" Said that he's gonna make me proud, Tracksuit Mafia, straight to the top Said when the money comes in, then all of the mandem are setting up shop You told me man are gonna be smiling, told me champagne gonna pop I can hear your voice in my head like "Skeppy, keep moving forward" "You shutdown from Texas to Norwood, stay low key, stay ghost" Like Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore would, don't watch them man's corners Do what you want and say what you feel, don't care if it makes things awkward Supposed to be grieving, but instead I'm in the hood with the whole team scheming Supposed to be leaving, but I stay right here cause my heart still bleeding I know that we ain't been eating, and I know that we ain't been sleeping But whatever mum wants, that's what mum gets, everybody better put their Ps in Man are gonna pay by cash, yes, man are gonna pay by card Cause I know that if it was one of us, trust me, Lukey would have gone hard So many wreaths of flowers, I look to the sky man, I need some powers Cause I feel like time's running out man, I need more hours Just last week were talking 'bout your mixtape dropping We couldn't turn up at Oscar's studio, so we had to work with Colin's We were getting shit poppin', now I'm on Google searching coffins Ting's confusing man, different man [Hook] I cry tears in my cup of Hennessey for these fucked up memories I cut niggas off for them bad vibes and them fucked up energies Shouts to the niggas that don't like me, shout out to the ones that are reppin' me Shout out the niggas that tried to finesse me, but I'm too plugged in mentally Heard that pussyhole taking shots, but he's just a wannabee Rooney I got niggas on standby, man I got niggas on duty Your life is like a talk show, trust me, that ain't no movie Never ever gonna be a top boy, never ever gonna be Lukey [Outro] Lukey World, Lukey Lifestyle man Trust me, MWF Tracksuit Mafia forever
Tim Westwood mix

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