Skepta, Chip & Young Adz – Mains lyrics

[Intro: Skepta]
Boy, don’t sleep in the trap house
Nah, that’s risky
Ain’t no deals in the trap house
If you want three, that’s sixty
Boy don’t sleep in the trap house
Nah, that’s risky
Yeah, greaze, uh

[Chorus: Skepta]
Boy, don’t sleep in the trap house
Nah, that’s risky
Ain’t no deals in the trap house
If you want three, that’s sixty
Had Charlie, man, I had Whitney
Had Bobby, man, I had Britney
Criminal pickney now I got large amounts
Boy, I need a different account
I cannot sit in the house
All my niggas tryna eat
I need to figure it out
Just tell me the floor, show me the door
My niggas kicking em down
Flicky in the whip, they wish I would slip
But I cannot give 'em the clout

[Verse 1: Skepta]
Got my dream girl in my real life
In the dunya but I’m living nice
Bought a chain didn’t see the price
Diamonds on me that vanilla ice
Who said that I’m civilised?
I’m a villain, you can see it in my eyes
Spin the wheel, tryna win the prize
Hit the jackpot, split it with the guys
Man, I been the guy

[Verse 2: Young Adz]
I’mma whip that crack like banana pudding again
When I step in the bando, fiends and the workers act like Vladimir Putin just came
Niggas taking the wave
Just let 'em have fun with it, tell 'em to run with it
I got some coke at my sister's
I got a gun in my brother's crib
And if we see 'em on the mains, that’s fire on the mains
Got a little three two concealed in my boxers, call that fire in the mains
I was on tour with the hittas on deck, had fire on the stage
Bro’s so tapped, if he see a opp little sister, he’ll probably fire off the stage

[Verse 3: Chip]
What do you reckon
How I survive? Impeccable tekkers
No point rocking a vest when you stepping
Neck and above how niggas be wetting
Cheffing, kweffing, shooting, booting, London’s mad
End of discussion
Fuck all the talk my nigga do sumtin’
You’re not the goat my nigga your mutton
I was 18 in hella jewels
Now I’m 28 in hella jewels
I’ll be 38 in hella jewels
You been hating on me, who the hell are you?
Chip in the dance, two-step bussin
If I got my Cuban on, I won’t tuck it
Look in my corner, he just see artists
Ain’t got a clue that the mandem will rush him (mad mad)
Hands on man, no hands on grams, but I still got my hands on grands
Gyal in my bed straight after the booth
Damn right, got hands on plans
Scales in my rucksack cah’ I gotta weigh my ting when it lands
Two and a Q no intent to supply
I get high, it’s a percy pack

[Verse 4: Skepta]
I had to buss my hood like I was outside in the rain
Anyone can dead
Push me to the edge, I’m gripping the pole like I’m riding the train
Niggas ain't shooting, niggas just gassing it, I’ll put a rack on it
All my niggas are savages
Bought a skeng and then I park it by the garages
See your girl on the ends
Now she wanna be friends
I look in her eyes
And I see she want a friends with benefits, no, we ain’t gotta pretend
Ex man talk about beef, man catch him eating chicken and fries
Yeah you might see my niggas in the video
But they’re coming in disguise

[Verse 5: Young Adz]
Hop out, a nigga surprised (Uh huh)
Sold out Ally Pally twice (Uh huh)
VVS and all the ice with boogers
Mesmerise memories (Uh huh)
Treating the range like a sports car
And I ain’t never seen another nigga do it big
Saw what I spent on my daughter
Now she’s screaming goals and she wanna have my kids
Let the fiend try that dark, she said Jesus, Nazareth
Mummy hit me on WhatsApp
Jakes are looking for me where my nanny lives
Last night I was bagging up crack and dark on my silver plaque
If a nigga try rob my gold, that’s bronze tips in that silver wap
And I just put coke on the stove, gotta turn it down
Gotta turn on the tap
I got a nigga on the way but the crack ain't dried yet
He want a 4 and half, I just turn on the fan
He want a 4 and half, I just turn on the fan
Tell the opps that we got larger waps
Cum in her pussy, a lava lamp

[Verse 6: Chip]
Growing up now, I gotta move different
I only cheat if it’s two women
Baby girl told me she want to be wifey
I asked her 'what do you do different?'
Good girl said she want a man like me
She want a man like me cah’ I’ve never be knicked
I was 18 tryna buy me a crib
You want to talk on my name
But you’ve never been lit

[Chorus: Skepta]
Boy, don’t sleep in the trap house
Nah, that’s risky
Ain’t no deals in the trap house
If you want three, that’s sixty
Had Charlie, man, I had Whitney
Had Bobby, man, I had Britney
Criminal pickney now I got large amounts
Boy, I need a different account
I cannot sit in the house
All my niggas tryna eat
I need to figure it out
Just tell me the floor, show me the door
My niggas kicking em down
Flicky in the whip, they wish I would slip
But I cannot give 'em the clout