Creep on Ya - Filthy Gears, Hitman, Nutcracker

Pew-pew-pew, pew-pew

Yo, you better duck

Two thousand and seventeen

Filthy Gears, mystery

Vader, Hitman, Nutcracker

Real riders music

Serious shit

Pew-pew-pew, pew

Yo, you better duck, you better duck

I-I-I swear

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Gonna peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Manaman ah come from out di cellar

Black leather coat and a balaclava

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Manaman ah come from out di cellar

Black leather coat and a balaclava

Gonna peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

We’ve been flying the flag before the flag got flown

Supplying the fags before you

'Nuff guys are wack, they spit handjob flows

No time for that, action mode

Send man to space like NASA with the drones

If not, we’ll be living in a planet full of clones

Where everybody’s judging like Sharon and Nicole

Dabble in those

Men of the UK, not flagging for the coast

Where most rate the MCs banging them the most

Farda fi dem so it’s always a Sunday

Better my man don’t dash him in a roast

like that, the cannibal approach

I ain’t country, not in like I’m pally with the goats

I’ll just let him have it, leave him hanging from the post

Savagery exposed, hear the passion in my flows

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Gonna peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Manaman ah come from out di cellar

Black leather coat and a balaclava

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Manaman ah come from out di cellar

Black leather coat and a balaclava

Gonna peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

I’m from the wild, wild west of the mids

Don’t think you can ever chat me

I tell a pussyhole suck his mum

But you can’t ever say that to me

If a boy acts a prat on the set

Then he can fight the team on the streets

Bare man talk shit on tracks

Like they’re firing a piece

One bag of liars

One bag of neeks

I come through like hmm

And cruise like an R6 on the beat

Man wanna talk about burners

Like say bullets are cheap

You ain’t putting in the action

And all of your talk is cheap

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Gonna peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Manaman ah come from out di cellar

Black leather coat and a balaclava

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Manaman ah come from out di cellar

Black leather coat and a balaclava

Gonna peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya

Peep on ya, we’re gonna creep on ya