Harlem Spartans
South London
[Hook: MizOrMac]
Let's take it back to South London
Where gangsters bop through them dungeons
It's Harlem/300, where KuKu don't care about numbers
There's gunmens, there's hunters
Got chocolate's shaking their bumpers (ay, ay, KuKu)
Let's take it back to South London
Where gangsters bop through them dungeons
It's Harlem/300, where KuKu don't care about numbers
There's gunmens, there's hunters
Got chocolate's shaking their bumpers (ay, ay, KuKu)

[Verse 1: Oboy]
I don't really bother with them man
Bro I'm tryna drop me a boss
(Big Fish)
I ain't tryin' to give man one
Man get splash, then the boy dem come
(Ching, Ching, Ching)
They were tryna rave that day
We was tryna spoil mans fun
Them man claim that they're active, them man they're just punks (some neeks)
Thought he could fist fight me
Man got his forehead bust
Cunch to the Prince, better watch your head back cuz
My little 4 just buss,
You don't wanna see young g [?] backing out swords and stuff
(No way, no way)
I step with Ku's but i linked with Spartans
I beg man pardon, SA don' go out there and clart him
Fuck with the opps, them man they love talking
Run a man down on my ones, run a man down with Bis, Kennington's really on obbo, cah we're taking the piss
Run a man down on my ones, run a man down with Bis, Kennington's really on obbo, cah we're taking the piss
[Verse 2: MizOrMac]
M-Mizza
Back off my ting, who's realer?
HS hot step or dinger
Silent skeng, dot dot or chinger
Riding, stroll with a bore, what's thinner? (dont run)
Everyone gotta talk for a n***a
He ain't dis, he ain't dat, he ain't with her.
I love life when they don't know nothing
Late night joggin', I run into Skriller
His gun don't bun, he ain't a driller
He ain't on, done no dumb n***a
2 car door spin up, Spartan hitta
Run man down, who's realer?
Bop back to my block, HS
So I trap, get bread, man's pebbling pebs
Or, in BP with Hex, Hackz, Smarko [?] and Kess
Everyone wan' be GM, 'til real men lurk around your whole ends And you see AD, no vest, he trap that zebra stuff off ends
(Trap, trap)
1 with 2 peds
Don't be on the A off the 10
Max, splashed man up like who's next?
Latz, do it thousand, no breath
Bis, kick the prick and got cheffed
Bellz, kick shells in his back and ran out his chest
(bang, bang, bang, bang)
[Hook: MizOrMac]
Let's take it back to South London
Where gangsters bop through them dungeons
It's Harlem/300, where KuKu don't care about numbers
There's gunmens, there's hunters
Got chocolate's shaking their bumpers (ay, ay, KuKu)
Let's take it back to South London
Where gangsters bop through them dungeons
It's Harlem/300, where KuKu don't care about numbers
There's gunmens, there's hunters
Got chocolate's shaking their bumpers (ay, ay, KuKu)