Lyrics Coward - CHIP

Coward

Yeah
Sending I do it properly
I’ve got tough ones for the tough guys
I’ve got soft ones for the softies
Oh no (oh no, oh no…)
Oh no, yo, look
Stormzy told me he gave you a hook
But he didn’t say you were gonna diss me
Coward nigga doing coward things
Fight your own battles, you sissy
You can’t run from me cuh
I know too much, we got history
Fuck you and your dead chess moves
One pen, I’ll check you swiftly
In your book, you said I inspired you
Like Dizzee or Kano
Now it’s 2015, I’m Mr Potato
Not no Dizzee or Kano
Blud, is that the best you got?
Oi blud, if that’s the best, then stop
Cuh blud, when my pen goes sonic boom
Katy B hooks won’t save you, blud
Stand back, enjoy the show, don’t get involved
Don’t give a fuck 'bout millions sold
Whoever’s still playing the numbers game
Safe, fuck off, play on your own
Right now, I’m doing music for the meaning
Trust me, I don’t wanna change this feeling
Soundboys get in my way, you’ll get a beating
Straight up Ctrl + Alt + Delete ting
You think just because you’re famous
You’re some Jigga or Drake, my darg, no
Jigga and Drake got bars, bro
I don’t give a fuck about Beemers, Benzes
Downing Street and tailored suits and chauffeurs, darg
I’ll spin you out your loafers, darg
I am not the one to approach with bars
From Eskimo to Sidewinder
You never got a wheel-up, darg (never)
Even with all your money
You can’t buy a wheel-up bar (never)
I’m not Dizzee or Wiley or Kano
I’m Chipmunk, them man rate me
It ain’t safe on the block, blud, trust me
Chipmunk’s pen’s off safety
Man will see this and not tweet it
But I’ve got everyone talking
Power of the Chipmunk forces
I’ve got the game all awkward
Bar for bar I’m on a next ting
You’re chatting 'bout the past, that’s a dead ting
Today lyrically, you’re in a neck lock
I’m not letting go, on my Jess Glynne
I’m not lightskin or darkskin
I’m somewhere in between
I crush grime, then I crush pop
Guess I’m somewhere inbetween
But these days, I don’t give a fuck
If I don’t fit in your scene
Stay in your lane and don’t swerve, nigga
You don’t want it with me
Fuck it, I’m going in hard like I popped a blue pill, bitch
This is what lyrics sound like
On the other side of that red or the blue pill shit
If I ain’t the one who is
You’re confused, that’s the issue
Tryna drag next man in your issues
Next time you go Downing Street
Better take all your trap niggas with you
Fucking lost yout
What you get for that
(Bluku bye bye, bluku bye bye bye bye bye)
You get me?
Cuh when you go Parliament
And put on your TV voice, your posh voice
You’re not tryna tell them that you’re out here, like, endorsing the trap
Take the trap niggas with you to Parliament
You’re not tryna do that, are you?
No, you’re not
Cause you’re on some part time usage for when it suits you
You’re corny, cuz
Why you tryna use other niggas for street cred?
Stand on your own, rudeboy
You get me?
One man army on the microphone
Cash Motto, yeah