| Flames on the riddim, big chef when I step through
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| I’ll need to wet youts
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| Collect the bag when they check Zuu (Brap)
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| Them man lack but I rhyme with the best moves (Ah)
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| B-I-G, manna big inna di West (B-I, B-I)
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| Speak with my chest
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| See, the whole game got finessed
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| Likkle bwoys try snitch to the ref (What?)
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| Man I moved forward, and bruddas got left
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| What they know about levs? |
| (Uh)
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| Fat boy, man, you know I get the belly on the regs' (Trust)
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| They don’t wanna war 'cause their niggas will dessert them
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| Them bruddas only got jelly in their legs
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| Prezi when I flex, who’s heavy on the set?
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| Young G been a vet, now they’re paying me respects (Uh)
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| Way too alive, never saying that I’m dead
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| Bars weak on the mind
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| Been spraying with the deaf
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| They don’t want me to blow
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| Now I’m paying for my breath
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| Fuck these folk
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| Man, I’m old school like Nutz n Boltz
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| Smell man stinkin', it must be cro
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| Roll to the set in my cruddiest clothes
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| And regurgitate all my gulliest flows (9)
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| Any wasteman try get in my face (9)
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| Lay man straight like a scaffolding pole
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| Man I’m on a next ting I ain’t battling bro
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| 9 lyrical pro
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| Boxing MCs like my name was Joe (Ah)
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| I was so sick but they didn’t wanna care
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| And they didn’t wanna know
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| Left them brehs with a limited role
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| Anywhere I roll my niggas gotta go
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| Man want features? |
| Hit 'em with a no
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| Man want beef? |
| Just fill 'em up with holes
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| Kill 'em with the flow (9)
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| Swear to God, I murk MCs
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| Even though I don’t wanna hurt MCs
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| I was born with the spirit, blud, I’m not a gimmick, blud
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| Rude boy, I will Lil Durk MCs
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| Nobody can’t spray up anywhere when I’m 'ere
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| Man better sit in their chairs when I’m 'ere
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| All these MCs living in London
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| I’m the only one who don’t care when I’m 'ere
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| Yo, man try skipping on man, I break skips
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| Man try wearing the crown, I take wigs
|
| And I throw 'em in the river, stone cold killer
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| Don’t care about fame on the road, I’m bigger
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| It’s long for a spitter
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| Make a man tap, he’s a quitter
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| Man can’t front like he’s bigger
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| I’ll rip his head off, whole crew dead off
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| Pack up my tools in the box and I get off
|
| Who’s that? |
| What’s that? |
| That’s GHS
|
| GHS, I’m a top man
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| Pull up on a block with a sweet one, no gang
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| Mi nah business block mi nah drop top fam
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| Manna hot boy, I don’t wanna haffi hot man
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| But I’m stacking up man like Jean Van Damme
|
| Pop off the ting like fizzy drink can
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| Man I pop off the ting like fizzy drink, fizzy drink
|
| Who’s that? |
| GHS, GHS
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| Papa grande, GHS, GHS
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| Whole heap ah style, that’s GHS, GHS
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| I’m inna dancehall, GHS, GHS
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| Foundation badness, GHS, GHS
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| The gyaldem ah love GHS, GHS
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| Bandoleiro, GHS, GHS
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| How many times that’s, that’s
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| I’m here to be heard, that’s a pun already
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| Competition done already
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| Man know me, I’m heavyweight
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| Four bars, that’s a ton already
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| Let me give them a couple more
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| I done told them a million times
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| I’m rich with rhymes, these MCs are fucking poor
|
| Push me, I’m swinging like double doors
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| Exit
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| Got 'em shook like Brexit
|
| You man got something to say?
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| Ring man, don’t text it
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| I’m not into the watching ting
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| I ain’t got no account on Netflix
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| In this grime ting, I move like Messi
|
| Scientific, I’m simply effective |