Pound Gang by Joe Black Lyrics
[Verse 1:Tall Man]
H A C all day cause I rep the borough
I'm going all out till pound gang hit the triple X front cover
Born in the slums
Raised in the gutter
Guns don't stutter
Cause I told you from the start E5 to death do us part
I say a prayer, but I doubt the lord will forgive me
Strapped up, my head's messed up
I'm drowning my sorrows in hennesy
I got prices on my head like Kennedy
If I die today will they remember me?
Would they cry and spill henny?
Or ride on my enemies?
Loading up clips, reminiscing to this melody
Fam, you feel me?
Can you relate? Old timers telling me to turn my back on the game
It's been raining, it's been pouring, Hackney's warring, storming
Man's falling without a warning
Commoners calling
Baby mothers mourning
Mandem's licking off heads, kicking off doors, three in the morning
It's all politics like Gordon
Furthermore, fuck those crooks in parliament
They ain't solving my argument, I'm barging 'em
[Verse 2:Kokane]
I'm out of town with my Co-D's
Bricks in my mind
Licking 'em out
Three jibs a day, we don't worry about these other cats trying to compete
Cause the line rings twenty four hour like your heart beats
And I'm trying to floss before the summer comes
Fuck all my paper, leave you front page on the Sun
Have your family on the run
War with me? Wear your gun
This ain't golf but I can still put a hole in one
So get your ranks up before you fuck with my clique
You get your face shanked for trying to hype in the bits
Canny, 24 we stay on the strip
Where you get your face lit if we see you slip
Catch pussies outside their yard slipping
Cock that thing back(POW!) cave their head in
They keep running their mouth, we keep listening
We run up in their mumsies house, have their arse missing
I'm a young'un but I was schooled by them olders
The ones that will take your life instead of your motorola's
Put two in your shoulders, one in your arteries
Fam we stay strapped like a pair of huaraches
Stacking big G's
Jam at the crack spot
And get your arse robbed if you're not one of my lot
So who the fuck's on it?
I'll have your boys writing R.I.P shirts with your name written on it
Beef? Ask anyone, we never run from it
Keep the shank in my boxers
Leave a hole in your stomach pussy
It's nothing pretty
So don't get brave before I pop your face like a virgin pussy, youseemee
[Verse 3:A.P]
I spend crazy money cousin: kind of like I lost it all
My mind-frame's sick, you should should of called it hospital
I switched up my swagger and now it's all in the [?]
Call me Bob the Builder; I got Bob's and tools
I don't know why these guys want to hate on me
What you gays want a date with me?
Cause we can date for free
And leave at the scene bait
Cause I got a date with the slate and it's P's mate
You guys is bums with crumbs, they ain't seen cake
I seen fakes and I seen snakes
I've licked to fiends, it's been jakes
So I switched up my hustle too
I snap quick, my mandem trying to muzzle who?
I swear I'm so different and nothing like these other dudes
And now I linked up with pound gang
These niggas better know their side fam
[Verse 4:Joe Black]
The life and times of a straight G
Born in the 80's
North London made me
Might catch me in East with Tall Man and A.P
No jokes I'm in M1 with Kokane
We go hard, pound gangs got the streets on smash
These rappers talk about straps, but ain't ever seen a mash
We got the fiends on smash
Spin Z's like a windmill
Got P's that stack
Make bread just like kingsmill
I'm in the the underground, they crowned me the king
I'm just waiting for my brothers to get out of the bing
I'm just waiting for a rapper to talk grease on the track then let a younger run up on your block and beat off the mac
Me, I'm in a class of my own
Three solo mixtapes, I go hard on my own
If it's a private number calling I don't answer my phone
My line blinks because I'm first to go out and last to go home
And these rappers talk nothing but lies
On their tracks they're telling everyone they hustle and grind
On the real, my clique live a hustlers life
On the real, the north side of London is mine
Look, we hit country with wraps and bring the pounds back
Tall man's had enough he's charging pound tax
A few of my niggas in jail, but they'll bounce back
This is the hardest, this is pound gang
H A C all day cause I rep the borough
I'm going all out till pound gang hit the triple X front cover
Born in the slums
Raised in the gutter
Guns don't stutter
Cause I told you from the start E5 to death do us part
I say a prayer, but I doubt the lord will forgive me
Strapped up, my head's messed up
I'm drowning my sorrows in hennesy
I got prices on my head like Kennedy
If I die today will they remember me?
Would they cry and spill henny?
Or ride on my enemies?
Loading up clips, reminiscing to this melody
Fam, you feel me?
Can you relate? Old timers telling me to turn my back on the game
It's been raining, it's been pouring, Hackney's warring, storming
Man's falling without a warning
Commoners calling
Baby mothers mourning
Mandem's licking off heads, kicking off doors, three in the morning
It's all politics like Gordon
Furthermore, fuck those crooks in parliament
They ain't solving my argument, I'm barging 'em
[Verse 2:Kokane]
I'm out of town with my Co-D's
Bricks in my mind
Licking 'em out
Three jibs a day, we don't worry about these other cats trying to compete
Cause the line rings twenty four hour like your heart beats
And I'm trying to floss before the summer comes
Fuck all my paper, leave you front page on the Sun
Have your family on the run
War with me? Wear your gun
This ain't golf but I can still put a hole in one
So get your ranks up before you fuck with my clique
You get your face shanked for trying to hype in the bits
Canny, 24 we stay on the strip
Where you get your face lit if we see you slip
Catch pussies outside their yard slipping
Cock that thing back(POW!) cave their head in
They keep running their mouth, we keep listening
We run up in their mumsies house, have their arse missing
I'm a young'un but I was schooled by them olders
The ones that will take your life instead of your motorola's
Put two in your shoulders, one in your arteries
Fam we stay strapped like a pair of huaraches
Stacking big G's
Jam at the crack spot
And get your arse robbed if you're not one of my lot
So who the fuck's on it?
I'll have your boys writing R.I.P shirts with your name written on it
Beef? Ask anyone, we never run from it
Keep the shank in my boxers
Leave a hole in your stomach pussy
It's nothing pretty
So don't get brave before I pop your face like a virgin pussy, youseemee
[Verse 3:A.P]
I spend crazy money cousin: kind of like I lost it all
My mind-frame's sick, you should should of called it hospital
I switched up my swagger and now it's all in the [?]
Call me Bob the Builder; I got Bob's and tools
I don't know why these guys want to hate on me
What you gays want a date with me?
Cause we can date for free
And leave at the scene bait
Cause I got a date with the slate and it's P's mate
You guys is bums with crumbs, they ain't seen cake
I seen fakes and I seen snakes
I've licked to fiends, it's been jakes
So I switched up my hustle too
I snap quick, my mandem trying to muzzle who?
I swear I'm so different and nothing like these other dudes
And now I linked up with pound gang
These niggas better know their side fam
[Verse 4:Joe Black]
The life and times of a straight G
Born in the 80's
North London made me
Might catch me in East with Tall Man and A.P
No jokes I'm in M1 with Kokane
We go hard, pound gangs got the streets on smash
These rappers talk about straps, but ain't ever seen a mash
We got the fiends on smash
Spin Z's like a windmill
Got P's that stack
Make bread just like kingsmill
I'm in the the underground, they crowned me the king
I'm just waiting for my brothers to get out of the bing
I'm just waiting for a rapper to talk grease on the track then let a younger run up on your block and beat off the mac
Me, I'm in a class of my own
Three solo mixtapes, I go hard on my own
If it's a private number calling I don't answer my phone
My line blinks because I'm first to go out and last to go home
And these rappers talk nothing but lies
On their tracks they're telling everyone they hustle and grind
On the real, my clique live a hustlers life
On the real, the north side of London is mine
Look, we hit country with wraps and bring the pounds back
Tall man's had enough he's charging pound tax
A few of my niggas in jail, but they'll bounce back
This is the hardest, this is pound gang