Link Up Lyrics - Russ (msplash)

[Intro: Producer Tags & Mr WOT] 

Jamma Beats 

Fresh Money Baby 

Yo, Dublin, big up yourself, you dun know 

Obviously, trust it 

Crud! 

Maud! 

[Verse 1: J.B2] 

Man back your mash and bop with a different sauce 

And splash your cash, she bop with the edible, oh 

Blue lights, see po-po 

I don't know what to-to do 

Baby cattin', uh, bueno 

Fishing-fishing, lost, Nemo 

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[Verse 2: Russ] 

Fuck-fuck 'dem yutes, they're irrelevant 

Infected, they need medicine 

On sight 'ting, if you're from Bellingham 

One man up, way too militant 

Slide with the broom like Harry, uh 

Sexed on your bae, no bally 

Akhi, ying and yang, I been trappy 

Fly then lick the shots in the alley 

[Verse 3: J.B2 & Crowd] 

Michael Jackson twist up your neck 

Chat again, man pattern the neek 

Arsenal, bro, cover Welbeck, gonna run 

Big man on the neck touched; likkle-likkle 

Na, uh-uh, today can't settle-settle 

Give up my lead tongue, Skittle-Skittle 

Baby 'pon me, just jiggle-jiggle 

Got the jeet and skeet tryna surf on pum 

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[Verse 4: Russ] 

Michael Jack, moonwalk in the crutch 

Pretty face and a whole load of butt 

Ching him up, tryna take out your guts 

Boom-boom, bang, got two in the bruck 

Like, bro, what was you thinking? 

Back it out, now the yutes sprinting 

Let 'em have it, let the pain sink in 

Shoot, slap it off without blinking 

[Verse 5: Chuks] 

I don't even wanna talk too much 

All these faggots know we put poles in dingers 

I might get DS to back his shank or get big bro to back his spinner 

They don't wanna see Loose in the cold, bro 

Had them shook and turned them sprinter 

How many times have we run down Adz? 

Got chased with shanks, some stupid nigga 

Got caught in the lack while sleeping 

How the fuck can I call this beefin'? 

They don't want this index squeezing 

Regz in the room so your bitch ain't leaving 

How many times did they lock up bro? 

I backed my shank, don't need me a reason 

Wait 'til shh comes back on ends 

Cah 'til he does; I won't stop creeping 

[Verse 6: J.B2 & Mr WOT] 

Who's-who's that nigga? 

You ain't badder than us, you're shit 

Kway-kway, bill up the spliff and lit 

She just loving the sex, lick tit 

Trust me, daddy 

When I bop her batty 

Tryna nut it in Kelly 

Finna ugh, no quicky 

When I beef lick that, tryna get this teddy 

Couldn't give chit-chat 

[Verse 7: Chuks] 

See the opps taking off so rapid 

Back out my shank, then it's back in jackets 

And the gyal over there so ratchet 

Opp's gon' cuff 'cause they come like faggots 

I done slept in the cells no blankets 

Had to put all my stuff in baskets 

And they put all my food in plastic 

They done bag all my clothes in packets 

It's the life I live, where you never see man complain 

I ain't never seen YJ so gassed; made the grub disappear like David Blaine 

It's like Remi done put out a diss track, then got straight on the rassclaat plane 

It's got my head back hurting so I gotta smoke the Mary Jane 

Huh? Huh? 

I shoulda known better 

I put holes in numerous tops so the pigs send home letters 

I got 'round 'ere with a sawed-off dots, yeah they say I'm a 

​home-wrecker 

Man J.Sav really can't stop dipping 

Mum's have to go sew sweaters 

Tryna get a mans top wetter 

Opps doin' up love letters 

I can't trust no female, you can call me dome-getter 

I ain't got no feelings 

So I'm out here breaking hearts 

I'm really tryna get that target 

Shank in your head like I'm playing darts 

[Outro: Mr WOT] 

Crud! 

Maud