Plastic Gangster

Just coz you listen to Wiley and Skepta,
don’t think your hard,
Bopping your head to Devlin
not seeing how deep his lines are
and when your bunning your L head
your telling me to make my love go down
like Plan B.
honey just coz you listen to
the music and dress like a hood rat,
it don’t mean jack shit,
Coz u write like an illiterate dickhead, unable to spell
and chat breeze like some scummy chav
don’t show me you’re a man,
just you’re a pussy hole, trying to act big
Bet you aint ever been stabbed, held a shank
or even felt the heavy weight of a shotty in your hand
You can say your mandem will back you in beef
but you don’t know any proper gangsters
I just have to compare you to the Krays and
the Richardson’s to see you aint nothing but a plastic gangster
a paper pushing wankster. You aint ever been on a stage
hustling to make your name,
you live with your parents, work in MaccyDs’
and left school with no GCSEs
You even hit women and act like
getting head is your god given right
Just coz your mum and sister is a beat don’t mean every
girl is a dirts. So grow some balls and try grab my attention
when you can show me you aint no plastic gangster or a paper wankster.