3 Wheel-ups Lyrics - Made In The Manor - Kano

3 wheel-ups in a row 

That means I'm a direct rudeboy 

Grew two yats on my own 

That means I'm a direct rudeboy 

Man can't call up my phone 

Then gwan like a direct rudeboy 

One side bag and a stoney 

That don't make you a direct rudeboy 

Some MCs come with the wickedest talk 

But really, dem man chat crap 

Acting like a donny but they don't know 'bout tracks 

When real niggas step on the riddim and chat facts 

I don't put myself in places 

If I weren't there then I weren't, let's face it 

If you weren't there then you weren't, that's basic 

I kill 'em with the realest shit and they hate it 

I'm a diffuser, can't act tougher than you are round me 

I've got youts dem tougher than you are round me 

I nearly died for the game, that's right 

But some spitters ain't nuttin' around me 

I was getting 'em hype while you was touching your lighter 

I was killing the mic there on the motherfucking beat 

None of you are bad round me, it's not only about me though 

Let me give a shoutout to my scene 

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[?], that's a rider for real MCs 

Me and Wiley in a clash, that's a real MC 

Hold tight D Double E, that's a real OG 

I said hold tight D Double E, that's a real OG 

Mad, reload ting 

Pop, pop, pop, that's a reload ting 

And when I say "it's Kano in the house" 

Everybody knows that's a reload ting 

If you've been shotting in the manor from way back when 

And you ain't on a kilo ting 

I don't wanna hear about [?] food and tings 

Man don't do those tings 

On-sight, thought he was onside, init 

Saw them guys, no shots fired, init 

If you ain't real then don't ride, init 

That postcode, that's offside, init 

Badman from which part? Dem man do witchcraft 

Dem man are [?], us man are kosher 

I've been that nigga since [?] loafers 

When kids dem didn't give a fuck about olders 

Man don't care 'bout fathers 

Man just care 'bout figures 

Man don't care 'bout yards 

Man just care 'bout Bimmers 

Man don't care who's hard 

Man just care if it's blinging 

Man don't care 'bout masks 

Man'll do it bare-face, init 

We don't do none of that bare-face fibbing 

The realest shit on your airwaves, init 

Photos 

3 wheel-ups in a row 

That means I'm a direct rudeboy 

Grew two yats on my own 

That means I'm a direct rudeboy 

Man can't call up my phone 

Then gwan like a direct rudeboy 

One side bag and a stoney 

That don't make you a direct rudeboy 

Can't tell me nuttin' 

Cook down mutton then pass through the gutter 

Link dusty red cups out the cupboard 

In the jungle, I move with original nuttahs 

And the same madman fly out for the summer 

Lick two blocks? Who are you? Runners 

Shut down dance, who am I? Shottas 

Couple wheel-ups at Butterz, that's nuttin' 

Boiling point, I keep it 100 

Yeah, G goes in 

Mad three-pointer, free throw ting 

Bitches looking at me on a keyhole ting 

I'm a gasser and a gentlemen, G hosting 

I'm a skinny nigga [?] so slim 

[?] when the D goes in 

Man are getting money, type the keycodes in 

Please can I have my money? What's the keycode pin? 

Fuck that, [?], we backed 'em up 

Now it's game-giving if it's facts, I aks them up 

I'm man of the match, I matched it up 

And I'm with the bats, I patched it up 

Sitting in the trap with hash to cut 

Sitting in the [?] with crack to cut 

I'm silly with the MAC, man mashed 'em up 

I hit him with the [?], then backed the truck 

Gully, I'm so slim 

K, Hollow, [?] 

Can't look inside a nigga's whip, the windows tint 

Better take the weight, better link those drinks 

[?] better leave those simps 

[?] with the clip, I'm gonna teach those chimps 

Man a put it on [?] see those wimps 

I'm finished with the little nigga, he's so rinsed 

[?], I'm king 

And he's no prince 

I let it bap, bap, bap, ping ping 

And then leave no prints 

I said that, that, that, that's me 

And yes, he's so skint 

I'm in the matte black 350 

With [?] beef go mince 

If you don't look after your own yout, boy 

You're not a direct rudeboy 

If you're in DSTRKT popping that Goose, boy 

You're not a direct rudeboy 

Bow Street, just bought brand new goods 

One you man can't get, a new toy 

That's why a man's [?] just preed him 

Sent me a direct, rudeboy 

16 bars in effect 

Take this pen to your neck 

And just [?] man with it 

Cash rules everything around me 

That's word to a Method Man lyric 

Yeah, I roll deep in the East 

But I still might Mega Man with it 

Yeah, I said it, yeah, yeah, I said it 

Cheques, we get it, cash and collec' it 

That likkle pellet, that nah gon' mek it 

Rest his head in that man's spaghetti 

Yout dem are menace, nuttin' like Dennis 

Man got stripped and even got credit 

Kids push prams to Westfield to lick it 

And run from pigs, don't even watch Peppa 

Real go-getter, geezers know better 

But geezers [?] Skinner 

Don't resort to violence, no, never 

Man just start with violence, go figure 

Eat man's food before man eat dinner 

Buss that booze, I roll and drink liquor 

Left that [?] for my nigga 

3 wheel-ups in a row 

That means I'm a direct rudeboy 

Grew two yats on my own 

That means I'm a direct rudeboy 

Man can't call up my phone 

Then gwan like a direct rudeboy 

One side bag and a stoney 

That don't make you a direct rudeboy 

Can't tell me nuttin' 

Cook down mutton then pass through the gutter 

Link dusty red cups out the cupboard 

In the jungle, I move with original nuttahs 

And the same madman fly out for the summer 

Lick two blocks? Who are you? Runners 

Shut down dance, who am I? Shottas 

Couple wheel-ups at Butterz, that's nuttin' 

Boiling point, I keep it 100