| Drove past my mum’s old house on Bury New Road
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| The one she got evicted from
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| Went to McDonald’s
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| Ordered a cheeseburger and chips on an addicted one
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| Then I heard: «Can I get a picture?»
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| Stood there and I took fifteen pictures, don
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| With fifteen different kids
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| I was there on the phone but I left tongue twisted, don
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| I know I paint pictures with words
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| But I didn’t know I was the gifted one
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| And now they say I put Manny on the map
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| So I hashtag 0161
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| Drove back past my mums house
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| Looked through the window on a reminiscent one
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| Shouldn’t have done that
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| Cus now I’m having flashbacks of the days when I had hectic fun
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| On Super Mario, Donkey Kong
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| And I was on my Nintendo all day long
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| I could hear loud shouting downstairs
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| Back and forth like ping pong
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| The gift came with a curse
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| Ever since ten years old my head’s been gone
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| Now I wanna climb to the top of the Empire State Building
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| Just like King Kong
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| Had problems with the DVLA so I was on the bus arriving late
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| But now the S-Line floats like a butterfly
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| I’m feeling like Cassius Clay
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| But I’m not a heavyweight
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| The only thing heavy is the weight of the world on my shoulder
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| I used to be afraid of an older until I put five bullets in a revolver
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| I was cold then, now I’m colder
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| I was voice note lyrics you write in a folder
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| I’ll build up your lyrics into a rizzla
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| And blaze them like I was a stoner
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| If you see me and I’m sober
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| Thinkin', know that I’m an imploder
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| That means I hold it in but if I explode
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| I’ll be like Vinegar and Baking Soda
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| Jesus
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| I’ve got them thinking 'is this guy from Manchester?'
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| The wordplays heavy just like Sylvester
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| And I’m takin' over like I’m on a Vespa
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| And when I say I’ve got boxes of cheese
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| I’m not talking about Red Leicester
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| And why do I laugh at MC’s?
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| A king will always laugh at a Jester
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| A Porsche will always pass a Fiesta
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| You’re lookin' at Manchester’s best
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| I’m from a place where nobody’s impressed
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| And don’t wanna see nobody progress
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| So they take shots at my ego
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| But I got a built-in stab-proof vest
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| I’ve been stabbed in the back so much
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| I’m like Jesus in the Passion of Christ
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| I was sat countin' about twenty-five grand
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| I got delusional
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| The Queen started talking
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| I was like: «Queen, why is everyone warring?»
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| She said: «Politics are boring»
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| Cause it’s all propaganda
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| And comes down to the fact that money’s more important
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| Than poverty and feeding the poor
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| The rich get rich, we get ignored
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| Middle-class people
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| That have done everything that the Government told 'em
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| Struggle to pay bills
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| Cause when they go to the bank they say their accounts been frozen
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| So damn right I’m taking doors off hinges
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| I’m running in through the hallway
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| Holding a big boy sword like a Viking
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| But I never been from Norway
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| Anybody comes at me
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| I stick it right in
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| Cus I don’t do foreplay
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| I make a man bleed sick
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| So he looks like Tomato Puree
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| You’re lookin' at Bugzy Malone
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| Every video is a new part of my story
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| And I was born back in 1990
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| So were on about episode forty
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| I say look when I’m spittin'
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| Cause I spit bars in high definition
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| It’s like watching a widescreen television
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| And this one here’s like 007, why?
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| Cause I’m on a one-man mission
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| To put my town on the map I’m reppin'
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| But I’m worse than a Nuclear weapon
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| Cause I’ll make your whole town go missing
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| I know when I’ve said suttin' sick
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| When I see a man’s head start tiltin
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| I’m like Wolverine from the X-Men
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| Cus the metal is built in
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| I’ve not set fire to the booth
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| I’ve set fire to the whole building
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| Charlie was gonna jump out the window
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| Cause the smoke in the room could’ve killed him
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| Drove past my mum’s old house on Bury New Road
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| The one I got evicted from
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| Drove straight past
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| Onto the motorway and straight into the distance don
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| Looked in the rear view mirror
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| Thinking about the past, on a majestic one
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| Cause if I didn’t go through what I went through
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| Then I probably woulda never wrote this song
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| There’s a lot to be said
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| Lot to be told, lot to be confessed
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| I’m holdin' doe
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| So I’m overly stressed
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| I wear my hat low
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| Cah' I’m known to the Feds
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| Tryna be cool
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| But I’m losin' my head
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| Plus I heard a couple man wanted me dead |
| Tell them, man, we got the machine
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| And I see them when they get out the pen
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| Fuck music I see them when they hit road
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| I be on your TV, in your stereo
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| I be in your Blackberry, in your iPhone
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| Everybody knows about Bugzy Malone
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| But I gotta confess
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| In '010 I fell off
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| Made ten quid
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| Made bare man jealous
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| Spent every penny in about six weeks
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| But I don’t care
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| Now that I’m back well off
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| Fuck bitches I just do big bits
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| I’m just tryna get rid of boxes like Kellog’s
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| So I can get the
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| Kawasaki Ninja
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| Matte Black
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| I’m a rider, and they forgot
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| Me a Machine, Ninja
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| Red hot
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| Tell my man I’ll take his head off
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| I’d die for my family
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| And that’s on my mum’s life
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| ‘Did they forget Dee’s my Brudda'
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| Did they forget I come from the gutter
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| And I spent '07 in the slammer
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| Never seen the summer
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| They let me out
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| And a ate man like I never had a dinner
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| Pray to the Lord like I never been a sinner
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| Take off a front door like I’m onto a winner
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| Gamble my freedom
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| Every day I wake up
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| You would’ve thought I was a Roulette spinner
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| I go inner they just go in
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| I’m Bugzy Malone the wickedest 'ting
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| Since Lucifer dropped with a broken wing
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| They spill the beans like a open tin
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| But I’m ODT, so I’m on dis 'ting
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| Tell them Gunchester run this 'ting
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| I fuck them up with the 'ting in their mouth
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| I make their legs shake, bondage 'ting, yo'
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| I’m the general, front-line soldier
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| Run this grime 'ting ten times over
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| Go tell Chipmunk not to be cheeky
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| Grime is a road 'ting, my man’s hopeless
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| Go make a pop tune, fuck your A’s and B’s
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| You went from
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| Chip Diddy Chip to The Streets
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| Oopsy Daisy
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| , I’m not in your league
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| Well I’ve been on the road playing Hide and Seek
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| Hide from the Feds, seek my enemies
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| It’s like I got some freaky disease
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| Cause when I say: «Turn into the Devil»
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| It’s like bare bitches drop to their knees
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| I’ve been dissecting boxes of cheese
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| Since I was eighteen, I had five workers
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| That’s five phones, five days in, we made five g’s
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| That’s two grand profit
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| Have you gone mad?
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| I made ten grand in about five weeks
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| That’s no secret, man know me
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| Bugzy Malone’s not just an MC
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| I got locked up aged sixteen
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| So fuck Chipmunk 'n' his A’s n B’s
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| I rep this grime 'ting properly, 0161
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| Watch how they walk with me, trust me
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| Watch how they walk with me
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| And fuck that dough cause I spent that fast
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| No money management, fucking with cash
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| These days man just say fuck the past
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| Nowadays days my whips better than your dads
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| My old headmaster used to have a Jag
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| Now that I’m buying and selling old whips
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| I got one of them parked up on the path
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| Tell the headmaster my S-Lines faster
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| And I’m still going on wicked and bad
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| Expel me are you having a laugh?
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| Everyone knows the recession is bad
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| You might as well go re-mortgage your gaff
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| Or downgrade, now that I’m paid
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| I’ll put the mortgage dipper on that
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| I’ll pay the mortgage
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| Yo', fuck the headmaster and the everyone I beat up
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| Cause it’s your fault that I’m on this path
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| It’s your fault that I seen man get stabbed
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| It’s your fault I nearly got shot in the back
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| It’s also your fault that I’m on a track
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| And I made way more money in the trap
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| I’m Bugzy Malone, going on cold
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| Now they say I put Manny on the map
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| I put Manny on the map |