Lyrics Tweeters - Dabbla, Rag'n'Bone Man

Tweeters

I get lean up
Dabbla miss the drop, pull the beat up
Tell the DJ I need a wheel up
My dick’s like the size of a peanut
Bout to turn the heat up
Plus I left the bathroom seat up
(That's right bitch)
Yeah I get gully with the wordplay
Fully lubed up going in the dirt way
Still I blew the candles out on your birthday
Watch an MC start flapping like a mermaid
Ay, I take you back to the very start
Tryna squeeze these nuggets in the penny jar
Got the front row buzzing at the seminar
Girls shake your arse like a jelly tart
Ra big bars that I serenade
Will leave a permanent stain that will never fade
Keep churning the man like propeller blades
Shotgun flow
Fully blown renegade
We’ll make
Make the system blow (make the system blow)
Bust the tweeters like your girl
We’ll make
Make the system blow (make the system blow)
Bust the tweeters like your girl
Similar to Biggie Smalls with a
I’ve rewritten the rules but it’s still a chore
Think you’re bigger than anything that I did before
Still we’re keeping it old school, chickaloo
Hit the store with more vigour than aeroplanes
We be balling, they calling me Mr Clever Brains
What you drinking?
I’m thinking we should have a shot
Je ne sais pas
Stop.
I’ll have a lemonade
Man it’s hard to celebrate when you can’t stop
Can’t say no like me I don’t stop
Don’t quit, all day, roll through, every week
Yeah, yeah, how you doing?
Hi there, never sleep
Shit on whatever they got going
Yeah the truth hurts, it’s better than not knowing
Hot flowing the lyrical dope in the pot blowing
Guess there’s a lesson to learn when I stop growing
We’ll make
Make the system blow (make the system blow)
Bust the tweeters like your girl (like your girl)
We’ll make
Make the system blow (make the system blow)
Bust the tweeters like your girl
I got that head nod shit that make you break your neck
Make an MC wish he’d stayed in bed
Yeah, I used to get parred by a lot of my peers
But now the looks on their faces are vaguely red
You see, I’m a sucker for parties and hanging out
I’ll be down with the yardies and gabber crowd
Doing shots of Bacardi at your nana’s house
Probably have
Things that you say cos they rhyme
Call me Messiah
Make me a shrine
Lotus position
Face full of wine
Spinning a million odd plates at a time, yo
Never been one for sticking in my lane
I’m the truth, the light bitch
The flicker in the flame
Yeah look at the white bits
They jiggling again
Don’t tell me to calm down
This shit is not a game
Make your head nod baby
Way I break it down
You man’s just jump and all your ladies shake around
We got it locked down
Baby break that jelly out
And if you feeling me and Dabbla better tell us now
We’ll make
Make the system blow (make the system blow)
Bust the tweeters like your girl (like your girl)
We’ll make
Make the system blow (make the system blow)
Bust the tweeters like your girl
We’ll make
Make the system blow
Bust the tweeters like your girl
We’ll make
Make the system blow
Bust the tweeters like your girl (bust them tweeters like your girl)
We’ll make
Make the system blow (make the system blow)
Bust the tweeters like your girl (bust them tweeters like your girl)
We’ll make
Make the system blow
Bust the tweeters like your girl