| I don’t know what he call bars
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| But he don’t sound like ours
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| I don’t know what he call bars
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| But he don’t sound like ours
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| I don’t know what he call bars
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| But he don’t sound like ours
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| I don’t know what he call bars…
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| Try step
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| You’re full of bull, I’m a bull get a horn through the bicep
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| Wanna be a matador
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| Get splattered more than your girlfriends tits, fried eggs
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| Tellin me one creepin' and crawlin' around
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| That I’m Peter Parker with nine legs
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| Look down on you all from the shard
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| You ain’t got the balls to climb up my higher fence
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| Let’s have it right, let’s have it right
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| When me and syanide are grabbing mics
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| He don’t get close to the dagenham-ites
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| Who’s gonna tell me shit about braggin' rights
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| Nobody here I’m aware of, please let me know if you hear of
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| Anyone Mr. Limb won’t take care of before they get aired off
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| Like the radio died
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| They came back on
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| When me and Jimmy be singing the sick patterns
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| Skills leave your limbs and shit scattered
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| Ill like I’m on pills — you get battered
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| Real lyrical skills mic jackers
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| Still keeping it real — it don’t matter
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| The chill that leave steel bones shatteres
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| Kneel down in a field you lil slappers
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| And it takes some dick, you little bait flow bitch
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| Me and Devlin are sicker than the six of the sickest spitters in this
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| Write me a list and wipin' my arse with the names that you writ
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| It’s a myth, when you come try twist with the twisted
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| I’m leavin' MC’s in the bits
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| You were like zombies
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| What
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| I don’t know what he call bars
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| But they don’t sound like ours (They don’t sound like ours)
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| I don’t know what he call lyrics
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| But they just sound like gimmicks (sound like gimmicks)
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| I don’t know what he call rhymes
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| But he don’t sound like mine (he don’t sound like mine)
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| I don’t know what you flows (what?)
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| I just don’t know x2
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| Shuttin' everybody down when I come around
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| Give them all the run around when I run 'em out
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| I’m silly with the syllables, some say I’m lyrical
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| I don’t give a shit no more, I’m just down
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| The risidual overly-critical way I had a nose that there is no miracles
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| In a land where man must forever talk
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| Be king of the jungle or dead at dawn
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| No man’s land, no badman but I will put up at night and attack man
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| If I have to I’ll hide in a trash can
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| All night 'til I finally catch man
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| No trash talk
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| Don’t be rash walk and never turn around
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| Put on a beat, it’s a dirty sound
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| I’m taking it back, right back to that mad fool
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| When we came in swinging
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| Hack from the beginning I’ve been killin' the rythms
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| And we don’t need no bringing
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| The circles I’m in is full workers grinnin'
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| Spring in my step, when I step, my circles winnin'
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| And that I murk with a purpose that makes observers listen, they’re surplus
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| spitters
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| Whose to this shit?, I can’t see anybody here
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| Plus i’m holding the levels like me and the devil two fucking rebels that leave
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| 'em unsettled I swear
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| And now they wanna try wrestle, I leave 'em dishevelled
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| They ever try meddle up in my affairs
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| I’m vettel fuck levels I’ll never be settled, try step and get levelled
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| Syanide and Devils
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| I don’t know what he call bars
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| But they don’t sound like ours (They don’t sound like ours)
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| I don’t know what he call lyrics
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| But they just sound like gimmicks (sound like gimmicks)
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| I don’t know what he call rhymes
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| But he don’t sound like mine (he don’t sound like mine)
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| I don’t know what you flows (what?)
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| I just don’t know x2 |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Try Step , by - Devlin. Song from the album Channelling Rain - EP, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп