Ghost

Close, close, wanna get close on the coast Ghost, ghost don't pose and I don't post Close, close, wanna get close on the coast Ghost, ghost Pickin' me a winner Picky hair an' I was a little bit thinner 3310 with a customized ringer I was tryna holla at Lavinia but she weren't ina 'Cos I was a sinner, thought I was a minger Never had a Bimmer Rollin' through the ends on a stolen Aprillia Waiting for the Dominos guy to deliver for a free dinner Thought I knew it all I was just a beginner, never was a singer I was on pirate radio way before I heard Mike Skinner Wagwan killer, yeah, that's my nigga Talk about race but its just way bigger I ain't gonna waste no time on Twitter Done with the jibba, cry me a river Say it to my face or say it to my trigger You go figure, or reconsider, Indian giver Lookin' for a chocolate girl with a hint of vanilla And she can bring a Indian with her I just want a bosom for a pillow An' I got a little bit o' skrilla We can get a boat and we can get a villa Or we can be on South Beach real nigga liver All killer, no filler I don't wanna brag or boast I don't cater and I don't host When they ask what I do I say I do the most Then I get ghost, on the coast like I am supposed Don't pose and I do not post And that's why these girls wanna try play me Close, close, wanna get close on the coast Ghost, ghost don't pose and I don't post Close, close, wanna get close on the coast Ghost, ghost Ah, ghost And I'm not talkin' about power I was in HMP and I couldn't stop daydreaming about sweet and sour I told them when I hit road this time, it's gonna rain and shower I paint pictures with words like Vincent Van Gogh When he painted the sunflower Back when Dizzee made dreams, it was our age tryna make dreams come true And in them things it would channel you And I would roll deep with a pack of yutes Weed and Rizla, pillar zoot Drank cray like sizzla', that's the roots Back then, man wore bubble coats into school and Timberland boots Talkin' about back when man had the cowboy ting And the middle bit would spin And if you made it bang near anything metal All you would hear was ping, ping Ghost, made man look like nearly headless Nick This one's gonna get messy like Lionel Three way lops, that's a hat-trick How are you a bad boy with no weapons That's like Harry Potter with no broomstick How are you a trap star with a knife But then can forget there's 36 in a brick Please don't glamorize jail like being on the wing makes you the Kidd Ghost, that means in the background with a million quid Close, close, wanna get close on the coast Ghost, ghost don't pose and I don't post Close, close, wanna get close on the coast Ghost, ghost