Headie one Martin's sofa lyrics
Lyrics
One way trip strait to martins sofa,
Lost everything felt like I had no one,
I was sat stressed out on margins sofa,
Done my first show had to spud the promoter,
head straight back to martins sofa,
I pray when the fame and the chartings over,
I ain’t gotta end up on martins sofa,
X2
Winter night, it's the 6th October,
If I had one wish for my birthday,
it would be some more 10 10 yola,
I’m the bando there's no california,
Im tryna count these 20s up sober
The ding dong bait, no insurance,
One more sale till the reloads over,
I’m thru a make a crack fiend turn
chauffeur
My intentions innocent,
This bandos small but dreaming big,
It was attempted M , first time
I was faced with the cps,
I Built my first hood phone loosing,
The gang asked me why I’m in OT jugging,
Cos I’d rather sit down for the food than bootings,
Everyday these birds just get more stupid,
Bro got a 8 a mash no sweets and now
he gotta wait till his free , gluten,
OT boy, but When I come to hood
i cause a nuisance ,
Had the Hammer on me come like
im tryna do home improvements
Its a double life working 2 shifts,
Monday I’m tryna be a college boy,
Friday I’m on a northwest train
from Euston,
I Fucked up my attendance,
put a 2 and blues with magic and
made it assemble like the avengers
Pa always said I’m useless,
my first day in Scotland I made
me two quid
CHORUS
My worker try finessing the pack,
he said Fiona’s car got smashed,
I was down to my last half each,
had me with hand thing in the
back of the cab,
I was taking smoke on the mway,
I felt like a spoilt exhaust pipe,
I need this food right now and
I don’t wanna hear more lies,
Told them that Ino it’s loss it’s
coasher,
Just round up that last little
change u got and meet me on
martins sofa,
Then I back the revolver,
What haven’t I done while
sitting on martins sofa
I swung the stick round like
a golfer
I Switched up the pattern
and trapped out a motor
everyday yola,
Mag or ammonia
I don’t wanna catch me a 30
I’m Tryna stack me a 30 and
buy a Daytona
I need my trap days over
I see myself in the Daily mail,
I’m on my 3rd strike so if
I grabbed fam I can’t get bail,
I smell like the bando I can’t get girls
And Before knowbetter I would’ve
quit rap cos I cant take Ls
Had to sign on twice a week, I got too much shows now I can’t make sales
Had just the sand left I felt like Seychelles
I even parked off bells in martins sofa
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