Rimzee - Feed The Streets

Feed the Streets - Rimzee Lyrics / / / Intro / (That’s Chucks) / / / Verse 1: Potter Payper & Rimzee / I’m the type to spin once and catch two on a hunch / I come way to far to forget who I was / When I was down and I was out, bro paid for my munc

Rimzee - Feed The Streets
Feed the Streets - Rimzee Lyrics

/ Intro

(That’s Chucks)

/ Verse 1: Potter Payper & Rimzee

I’m the type to spin once and catch two on a hunch

I come way to far to forget who I was

When I was down and I was out, bro paid for my munch

So now I keep his belly full like he ain’t with the Klumps

We can do this on camera but I ain’t with the stunts

Fuck with me, G, there ain’t enough days in a month

You got time on your hands, I got time on my wrist

I go Jummah with the killers and we pray at the front

You know these London streets hot, but it’s rainy as fuck

I come way too far to forget who I was

Bro was yakin’ everything and he was giving me cuts

So when I see his pagan he was spilling his guts

But he never said a word how I’m living is fucked

I only drop mixtapes but I’m living deluxe

They say I’m stuck in the dirt like a stick in the mud

But I’m with bro, we investing, and tripling up

Remember we was just chasing man and tripping him up

Then a random guy came and started dipping him up

What a coincidence, I’m mental I’m fucking up these instruments

You weren’t there you just rap about them incidents and them instances

That’s the difference but we can split the differences

I know all about what living from a distance is (Yo)

In your struggle in pain is where the wisdom lives (My brother, yo)

/ Verse 2: Rimzee

My barrel spin like a CD

Sprayed up blocks, no graffiti

Made my gun ring like EE

Had me on TV

Still serving oil like BP

My nigga, go check my CV

I let it crash, no write-off

I’m the same niggas with the mic off

I be in the T-like nylon

Hopping out of foreign cars

Who thought we get this far?

No soft life, I turnt soft to hard

Came out the can like a tin

I push white like a swing

When you talk ‘bout the, realest I’m him

Countin’ up them ones

Came out the slums, I made my gun beat like the drums

Gamblin’ with big stakes

Hundred K make your wrist ache

We ain’t relying on no mixtape

Hopping out of 4x4s

Counting money the floor

But I can’t forget the damp on the walls

I was in them cells without no toilets

Selling poison got me up in Audemar for appointments

I’m from a different era

I grew up ‘round serious kwengers

Them niggas grew up on Influencers