Moscow17
Lightwork Freestyle
[Intro: Loose]
M17, smoke
Mmm-hmm, ay, Loose

[Verse 1]
So let's get this straight
I'm Loose, yeah, I go where I want; anytime, anyplace
Should have told me you're wearing a vest
So I coulda just stab mans face, or neck, or chest
I swear my pagans give me stress
'Cah they do it the UKDrill
Or they are doing up gang on the net
Fuck CID and fuck the Trident
Man, I swear down I hate the MET
I don't know when this beef's gonna end
But it's like they forgot when its started
I chinged up my man, he spoke to the feds
So don't talk 'bout who have you've cheffed
'Cause you done got got at Katie's
All now you ain't riding again
Please, I don't wanna hear about kweng
'Cause when it was on roads days, n***as wasn't really backing their friends
How you friends with a man that robned your friend?
All now, man, it don't make sense
Two man in the fucked off, way too fucked off blade tryna leave man finished
Dilute my juice and spill it
Four man in the fuck off ding dong
Pass that ping-pong ball and drill it
What you know about backing your friend in the field
Ten opps, don't know what to do
I'm Loose, I back my Bruce
Swing my shank, tryna catch me a two
I heard dash got road the monopoly thing
That's a young black lad on the news
I'm MoscoO, the pretty ones that I still taking risk
Bro M.Y still taping strips
Air Force 1, no crease its crisp
Gyally want all of this dick
Arch up her back and open lips
No fuck that, hold dis mash 'cause I'm feeling like Ghost an' I need me a Tash
Power do road, that's Tommy and Ghost
Me and JB gon' pull up on toes
Wap for wap, or shank for shank
I want your soul, it's already been sold
125 or 3-double-0, I can get you a Q for 3-double-0
Chop it; rock it; send it up O
Look at my packers, Look at these bones
And I can tell you 'bout beef
A hundred trips to opp block shank on me playing hide and seek
Then kick back corn for cookies and tea then wait till 6pm
I'm tryna see a pagan on I.T.V
Free my n***as doing up ITV or kicking them doors
Getting IEP's
Can't come to the b congestion, I'll camp on you no mention
And they know if they on to the gang
So let me cut that slice of tension
If you’re on to any of my bredrin
I'll back out my wap or shank, no question
Still do it for the ones that resting: Incognito, GB, too
And rest up Latz—real bad boy from the Harlem flats
Two shanks tryna creep on man, we was in Thameside flats
Knocked on my door like, "Loose, let's crash"
Say no more, we'll do it in the morning
'Cause I'll do for my bros, no chat
GB remember when we lick down shh
And almost lick down shh
Now they all do Pyrex living
Why the fuck you wanna lie about the kitchen?
'Cause you ain't gonna stretch that pack
So it ain't gonna make no difference
I just cop me some TT LIZ
And it came with the darkest sibling
See I love me the chop and jug
Still got a bank on the beef it's cooking
GD61 and still looking
Judge still throwing out birds and bookings