"Daily Duppy" lyrics
Horrid1 & Sav'O Lyrics
Yeah
Yo
Daily Duppy
Let me tell you suttin' 'bout the daily fuckery
Ghosty
I'm a big darg in this ting, them man there are puppies (Bow, JS, JS)
Come on, you know we're in this bitch
Gabbana
I can talk 'bout rappin', talk 'bout chingings
Talk 'bout slappings, talk 'bout wiggings
Talk 'bout burners, talk 'bout triggers
Talk 'bout murders, talk 'bout victims (Bap, bap)
Talk 'bout bitches, talk 'bout women
They talk 'bout drills, all of that is fiction (Grr, bap)
All the pellets in the car, just lookin' like a packet of Millions
You're finished
Do it bait, I'll splash him
Sav too savage, think you're a match?
Try match it, mad ting
Tell bro, "Back it," get to the clappin'
Duckin' and divin', and they don't know who slapped it
It's us that's crashin', nuttin' but badness
Gyal on my dick like, "Who's that savage?"
Spin that, back it
Who's that? Bang it
Gruesome attack, see his head back splattered
'021 plates, nah I ain't beefin' with them
They want beef on the net
We got a pulse, squeeze in the flesh
One day, we'll meet one of them
Let the corn from the 4s just reason with them
Big teeth in it, I bored all three with it
Haunt them neeks with it
And no, we ain't picky, or talk in flickies
Them broski wet **** with it
Don't be hangin' with the opps when I buck them, 'cuh trust me I shanked up everyone there
In my Mons with my shank, I can see them clear
But where I can see them days in Nike, lemme air that
I'll show no fear, if I press that, I'll send man straight in the air
Bitch, like of course you don't want corn in your hair
You got a vest, swing my ting at your ****
That's a red light but if he moves wrong, then he gets greenlighted
Keep runnin' your mout', get silenced
Hell breaks loose if I close one eyelid
Bitch on my dick 'cuh she ratin' my ting
Do it too much, bitch, act your mileage
Anywhere it goes, I'll sky it
Let corn fly like a pilot
Or use my splash on a local pirate
Like the ex-Arsenal player, man feel that chamber
I'll turn that ling, ching
You won't even get that one, but when I wet that one, I better turn man Chinx
Pretty little thing stepped out in pink
No way am I givin' a wink
Far from borin', no, she ain't stallin'
I hit that over the sink
Bells come fat like TerRio (Ooh, kill 'em)
Turn off the stereo
What's that opp boy song? Bro, lemme know
DJ switched, if I switch, then let it go
Don't get 'round with rounds like merry-go
Told bro, "Spin back 'round, go very slow"
Pop them doors, I'ma jump out and get him, bro
Who got him down? They're batts, don't let him go
If I'm on my man, then I'm on my man
No one on Earth can stop me
Upfront in the field like Henry
Swing this shank, tryna do man properly
Huncho, Horrid1, man's cocky
Bossy, and I got bad ones on me
They got bro on the field, in the marsh like Rodney
Jailhouse, smash man up like Rocky
I'm just a young thug, tryna run up them digits
I'm tryna get rich like Roddy
Deep thoughts in my cells on my Js
I got Hood Scars, but I ain't got a scar on my body
Told gyal, "Come to the west"
Doin' Maggie or Stardawg, I don't pop Molly
You could drip too hard, lil' baby
Fuck around and drown, gonna splash for my donny
Dotty come long like Sheldon
Chop that down 'til it's short like Howard
Bluefoot gyal like Penny
Up in her belly, dogs that pound it
True say them mandem's 'bout it
It's a big bang if this 4s gets outted
Cruisin' around for these cowards
They stay indoors like them man there [?]
Fuck around, you can drown in a swimmin' pool
I ain't nuttin' like Kendrick Lamar
See him runnin', extendin' my arm
See ****, he's verballed his gyal in the car
Literally tried to murder man in the dark
You know that game that we used to play back in the past?
Bro-bro got a pack near my yard
Hunch chopped up **** and he ran to his mum
It could've been Austin, I gave man powers to chat like that 'cuh he never been Powis
I beg man allow it, if he ain't been wet, then he's held hot showers
In the pourin' rain, I won't bring my flowers
Put that on his grave and I'll swing these towers
My Rambo's twin hit that with a ching
Then I'm checkin' the news in a couple of hours
Ayy, check the fuckin' news, man
Did we get him?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, we got him
We're out, gang shit
Suck your mum
Ghosty
You know the fuckin' ting
Gabbana
Yo
Daily Duppy
Let me tell you suttin' 'bout the daily fuckery
Ghosty
I'm a big darg in this ting, them man there are puppies (Bow, JS, JS)
Come on, you know we're in this bitch
Gabbana
I can talk 'bout rappin', talk 'bout chingings
Talk 'bout slappings, talk 'bout wiggings
Talk 'bout burners, talk 'bout triggers
Talk 'bout murders, talk 'bout victims (Bap, bap)
Talk 'bout bitches, talk 'bout women
They talk 'bout drills, all of that is fiction (Grr, bap)
All the pellets in the car, just lookin' like a packet of Millions
You're finished
Do it bait, I'll splash him
Sav too savage, think you're a match?
Try match it, mad ting
Tell bro, "Back it," get to the clappin'
Duckin' and divin', and they don't know who slapped it
It's us that's crashin', nuttin' but badness
Gyal on my dick like, "Who's that savage?"
Spin that, back it
Who's that? Bang it
Gruesome attack, see his head back splattered
'021 plates, nah I ain't beefin' with them
They want beef on the net
We got a pulse, squeeze in the flesh
One day, we'll meet one of them
Let the corn from the 4s just reason with them
Big teeth in it, I bored all three with it
Haunt them neeks with it
And no, we ain't picky, or talk in flickies
Them broski wet **** with it
Don't be hangin' with the opps when I buck them, 'cuh trust me I shanked up everyone there
In my Mons with my shank, I can see them clear
But where I can see them days in Nike, lemme air that
I'll show no fear, if I press that, I'll send man straight in the air
Bitch, like of course you don't want corn in your hair
You got a vest, swing my ting at your ****
That's a red light but if he moves wrong, then he gets greenlighted
Keep runnin' your mout', get silenced
Hell breaks loose if I close one eyelid
Bitch on my dick 'cuh she ratin' my ting
Do it too much, bitch, act your mileage
Anywhere it goes, I'll sky it
Let corn fly like a pilot
Or use my splash on a local pirate
Like the ex-Arsenal player, man feel that chamber
I'll turn that ling, ching
You won't even get that one, but when I wet that one, I better turn man Chinx
Pretty little thing stepped out in pink
No way am I givin' a wink
Far from borin', no, she ain't stallin'
I hit that over the sink
Bells come fat like TerRio (Ooh, kill 'em)
Turn off the stereo
What's that opp boy song? Bro, lemme know
DJ switched, if I switch, then let it go
Don't get 'round with rounds like merry-go
Told bro, "Spin back 'round, go very slow"
Pop them doors, I'ma jump out and get him, bro
Who got him down? They're batts, don't let him go
If I'm on my man, then I'm on my man
No one on Earth can stop me
Upfront in the field like Henry
Swing this shank, tryna do man properly
Huncho, Horrid1, man's cocky
Bossy, and I got bad ones on me
They got bro on the field, in the marsh like Rodney
Jailhouse, smash man up like Rocky
I'm just a young thug, tryna run up them digits
I'm tryna get rich like Roddy
Deep thoughts in my cells on my Js
I got Hood Scars, but I ain't got a scar on my body
Told gyal, "Come to the west"
Doin' Maggie or Stardawg, I don't pop Molly
You could drip too hard, lil' baby
Fuck around and drown, gonna splash for my donny
Dotty come long like Sheldon
Chop that down 'til it's short like Howard
Bluefoot gyal like Penny
Up in her belly, dogs that pound it
True say them mandem's 'bout it
It's a big bang if this 4s gets outted
Cruisin' around for these cowards
They stay indoors like them man there [?]
Fuck around, you can drown in a swimmin' pool
I ain't nuttin' like Kendrick Lamar
See him runnin', extendin' my arm
See ****, he's verballed his gyal in the car
Literally tried to murder man in the dark
You know that game that we used to play back in the past?
Bro-bro got a pack near my yard
Hunch chopped up **** and he ran to his mum
It could've been Austin, I gave man powers to chat like that 'cuh he never been Powis
I beg man allow it, if he ain't been wet, then he's held hot showers
In the pourin' rain, I won't bring my flowers
Put that on his grave and I'll swing these towers
My Rambo's twin hit that with a ching
Then I'm checkin' the news in a couple of hours
Ayy, check the fuckin' news, man
Did we get him?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, we got him
We're out, gang shit
Suck your mum
Ghosty
You know the fuckin' ting
Gabbana
Writer(s): Harmony David Samuels, Jahmaal Noel Fyffe, Natalie Jane Mulligan, Ever Ronquillo
