Again - Headie One

They want me in trouble again

Want me in induction again, guards giving instructions again

Letters bout loving again, visit hall kissing and hugging again

That mop and bucket again, empty and rubbish again

And these feds try cuff me again, Lord knows that I’m touching again

Still try do man fuckery again, man hope I get lucky again

Nigga I’m two man up with the skeng, avoiding undies again

Circle the opp block again and again and again and again and again

Me and big bro don’t ramp no more, that’s probably cos we’re too alike

17 bought a dots for apes and a q of light, all we knew was white

These pigs don’t want me to shine, got me sitting down doing life

Getting mad cos they’re under staffed, and they’re just unlocked to a tie

Young nigga in Feltham, all a nigga knew was fight

Last year I went 4 months basic, Tameside breached my human rights

Just done ride a licence, and I ain’t even booked a flight

Came home and I built 2 lines cos I’m really tryna make up for used up time

How many times we doing 90 on the M, fuck all of these opps

I wish I could fit 90 in the skeng, before I ever did it in O

I really have to try it in the ends, I just counted up some racks

I remember having no money on my spends, they think I do juju

Cos I got NFA for another attempt

Bad b didn’t wanna know, now they all tell me they love me again

But I gotta put the trap first, invest this bread into skengs

Cah it’s true when these bitches say know your worth

These opps ain’t done a one dirt, in Tottenham I still feel at home like Spurs

They want me in trouble again

Want me in induction again, guards giving instructions again

Letters bout loving again, visit hall kissing and hugging again

That mop and bucket again, empty and rubbish again

And these feds try cuff me again, Lord knows that I’m touching again

Still try do man fuckery again, man hope I get lucky again

Nigga I’m two man up with the skeng, avoiding undies again

Circle the opp block again and again and again and again and again

Sport this 1 level on a trackie, I could never look tacky

I make everybody feel trappy

Do this ting live in the streets, even the kittys wanna help with the bagging

Nought 9 down to the t, stretch this package Mr. Fantastic

I really walk this walk on the streets, dem man dere just type it

Money on my mindset, I got the hustle gene no Wyclef

How many times have I found myself in the interview room with Trident

I just exercise my right to silence, I hit the jailhouse and ride it

If man get try diet, that servery I’ll fly it

Until I get tired, that’s hella headbutts and flykicks

I touch road on violence, that’s blood all over my Nike ticks

Big bro showed me to fuck with the press and the Pyrex

Still tryna make a killing off the BMW and I don’t mean the i8

That’s all my trapphone jimming, I come like I put it on ‘roids

My opps just making up noise, that internet scoreboard’s void

My opps just making up noise, that internet scoreboard’s void

They want me in trouble again

Want me in induction again, giving instructions again

Letters bout loving again, visit hall kissing and hugging again

That mop and bucket again, empty and rubbish again

And these feds try cuff me again, Lord knows that I’m touching again

Still try do man fuckery again, man hope I get lucky again

Nigga I’m two man up with the skeng, avoiding undies again

Circle the opp block again and again and again and again and again