CORRIGER LES PAROLES

Paroles : Fists Up

Lisi:
Why these boys wanna test my patience (why)
They’re all basic
They talk tough on the gram all day
Then when they see me up close don’t say sh*t (pus*y)

I swear I’m not on no gang sh*t
But try me and you’ll leave with a facelift (yeh)
Four-three we’re known to be majors
Don’t ever come with that fake sh*t

If a scrap goes down in the hood
Even on a sunny day I’ll storm in
I could’ve sworn they were missionaries
‘Cause whenever we pull up they call more-men
'Cause they know my team got that form
When they see us swing like Greg Norman
And if they wanna come to my ends
They have to know that’s my call like Jordan

No time for this chit chat
Call me Dig-Dat
‘Cause me and my bro did tactics

These fakes talk tough like a car in drive
‘Cause I swear on my mum they can’t back it (bang)
We stay active
Tell ‘em I’ll come round
No shiv in his chest but a fist to his head
That’s enough to get a man down
f*ck these clowns, tell ‘em all drop now

Fa tolu go get ‘em, who’s say less
No gat, shank, f*ck that, fist up
Uso we keen for the mess (that’s us)
Got one here no need for the two
Old mate right hand put you to rest
That four-three to that fitu fitu
I hold it down for my set

Vicc:
f*cken oath, listen
Fitu fitu go get ‘em, who’s say less
No gat, shank, f*ck that, fist up
Siana we keen for the mess (of course)
Got one here no need for the two
Old mate leftie put you to rest (oua)
That double seven to the four-three
I hold it down for my set
(aye Victor tell them tokz)

Home of the brave
Land of the G’s
If you want that beef
Better tread carefully

If so, my team will go get that
We pull up the gone like snapchat
These fists goes up better hack that
f*ck that, tell them dogs come catch that
They talk but they never act

‘Cause I ain’t no mullet ‘cause i never hang back
Double seven to a fat hit put on repeat
Them boys they talk about takin’ trips
But they always skip my street
When they come around to throw down guarantee
They gotta stop 'til it hits the concrete
Best believe when I leave I throw my sevens up
And shout out Inala G’s
Get the sh*t done in the state of Queen’s

Fitu fitu go get ‘em, who’s say less
No gat, shank, f*ck that, fist up
Uso we keen for the mess
Got one here (aye) no need for the two
Old mate leftie put you to rest
That double seven to the four-three
I hold it down for my set

Lisi:
f*cken oath, listen
Fa tolu go get em, who’s say less
No gat, shank, f*ck that, fist up
Uso we keen for the mess (lessgo)
Got one here (aye) no need for the two
Old mate right hand put you to rest
That four-three to that fitu fitu
I hold it down for my set
Listen

I got tokoz in the Seven that’ll fear no man
Straight loto lahi (oua)
Got hamoz in the four-three that’ll feed ya like aunty’s at a koga’i
(fa man)

This is Brisbane, we’re different
We don’t roll around with no weapon, trust me
We don’t need a shiv when we got two fists
Just find the bloke and then step him (of course)

Don’t talk to me about cheffings
Unless you spend you’re life in the kitchen (aye)
Don’t talk to me about weddings
Unless there’s a bride and groom and they kissin’
Don’t talk to me about bootings
Unless you’re talkin’ ‘bout a conversion
Four-three double O to the double Seven
My uso’s puttin’ that work in

Aye toko let’s tell them real quick

Vicc:
Pinkies up, to the heaven
That seven, my brethrens
Gotcha boy, that’s leverage
If not that then we’ll swing like Savage
(swing)

Who’s got a problem
Who’s got an issue
Better speak ‘em now
‘Cause the g’s from Inala and Forty-three
We hold it down