| Bang, same city, new blocks
|
| Bang, boombox on the rooftop
|
| Bang, who’s hot? |
| Who’s not?
|
| Bang, new job, who’s boss?
|
| Self-employed wealthy boy
|
| Dealt with pain, dealt with joy
|
| Me and Wiley are cool now
|
| But I’m the same nigga who tried help destroy him
|
| Tell Lorraine, tell McCoy
|
| I failed again, felt annoyed
|
| Now I’ve got paper round
|
| Me, Daily Star cause I sell the voice
|
| Oi, it’s the paper boy, I’m in effect
|
| Don’t like me? |
| I’ve always been a threat
|
| My only competition is the man in the mirror
|
| My niggas or my silhouette
|
| They know I’m a flamethrower
|
| Make man lay low and lay lower
|
| Anybody says that they can’t get hold of me
|
| Tell them niggas I’ll be on the same blower
|
| Who am I? |
| The baddest MC that grime ever produced
|
| The resident Eskimo goer
|
| Culture vultures, they owe us
|
| Oh, now they know us?
|
| Bang, same city, new blocks
|
| Bang, boombox on the rooftop
|
| Bang, who’s hot? |
| Who’s not?
|
| Bang, new job, who’s boss?
|
| Bang, same city, new blocks
|
| Bang, boombox on the rooftop
|
| Bang, who’s hot? |
| Who’s not?
|
| Bang, new job, who’s boss?
|
| (Bang) I’m hot, so what?
|
| (Bang) I’m out spitting for free, no gwop
|
| (Bang) And my path is clear, no stops
|
| Got yards in the sticks, no shops, no cops
|
| (Bang) Keep my mind on the cash
|
| I see if I can turn a stack
|
| I know you love practicing but
|
| Me and my niggas were born burning tracks
|
| Like yo, they know I’m that post-quitter
|
| Mind that gyal dere, she’s a gold digger
|
| Chatting 'bout with her
|
| Push me far, turn me to a cold figure
|
| Respect, you do it, but man have done it
|
| Anybody from the elite, you know we run it
|
| Here’s what it feels like to win
|
| Get rewarded, I’ll do a hundred miles and running
|
| Bang, same city, new blocks
|
| Bang, boombox on the rooftop
|
| Bang, who’s hot? |
| Who’s not?
|
| Bang, new job, who’s boss?
|
| Bang, same city, new blocks
|
| Bang, boombox on the rooftop
|
| Bang, who’s hot? |
| Who’s not?
|
| Bang, new job, who’s boss?
|
| Bang, same city, new blocks
|
| Bang, boombox on the rooftop
|
| Bang, who’s hot? |
| Who’s not?
|
| Bang, new job, who’s boss?
|
| Bang, same city, new blocks
|
| Bang, boombox on the rooftop
|
| Bang, who’s hot? |
| Who’s not?
|
| Bang, new job, who’s boss?
|
| GH, and I’ve been doing this
|
| Since I had an Ericsson 338
|
| And I have pushed more wigs back
|
| Than a label has done to an album release date
|
| If I send for an MC
|
| Then man better reply tonight, not a week late
|
| If a man can’t move on from the war
|
| Right after it, bro, that’s a weak trait
|
| I’m not a lager lout
|
| But I’m still throwing bars about
|
| Midday, looking for a haircut
|
| Shop’s packed, gotta go to the barber’s house
|
| I’m doing business everyday here
|
| That’s why I can’t mess or laugh about
|
| When it comes to the grime in 2016, rudeboy
|
| I’m the hardest out
|
| Bang, same city, new blocks
|
| Bang, boombox on the rooftop
|
| Bang, who’s hot? |
| Who’s not?
|
| Bang, new job, who’s boss?
|
| Bang, same city, new blocks
|
| Bang, boombox on the rooftop
|
| Bang, who’s hot? |
| Who’s not?
|
| Bang, new job, who’s boss? |