Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Nutcrackerz, artist - Dizzee Rascal. Date of issue: 21.04.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Nutcrackerz |
| Cause man ain’t bumping him or you |
| Man ain’t bumping him either |
| Man ain’t come for him |
| Man ain’t come to grin neither |
| Man ain’t comforting geezers, ease up |
| Man ain’t jumping in neither |
| Man just jumpy and eager beavers |
| Shit ain’t sunken in neither |
| Man just old school from Gloucester Grove |
| When man had comfortable Fila |
| Back when Aston didn’t even live there |
| It was Josh and Makeda |
| Back when gangsters weren’t even shooting |
| Man took chunks with that cleaver |
| Back all Super Dee, Stone Love days |
| Yep, Jamrock Sound, Metro Media |
| Back in the day when I was broke |
| I was on Bow Road and looking out for eaters |
| Back in the day before I had seven figures |
| Our bredders were begging me for features |
| Back in the day before bloggers and tweeters |
| Before they knew I was a genius |
| They were the days when I was excluded |
| From school for fucking with my teachers |
| I was so damn facetious |
| I would leave em with fevers |
| Seizures, bunch of holes in my sneakers |
| Back in the day before I had that |
| Brand new Range Rover, looking devious |
| Previous, I was moving mischievous |
| None of my girlfriends were divas |
| Making moves was the easiest |
| Please don’t make me get deeper |
| I was linking Kamika |
| Ice Rink and that Creeper |
| Had em dropping in caesars |
| Jesus, bunch of unstable geezers |
| Bunch of peelers and dealers |
| Demons, they were holding them beaters |
| We were owning them speakers |
| Man came back with that classic crack shit |
| Man came back with that Raskit |
| Rolled up with them Rottweilers |
| And came back with Bullmastiffs |
| Quickly grab them six brownings |
| Women grab me two taxis |
| There’s a negative and a plus side |
| Hollow’s back with new batteries |
| Hold up, coming back for you fassies |
| Better run home, call that prat the new Lassie |
| Them two straps are too massive |
| Jumped out, pap pap pap with two maccies |
| Quick, jump back in front seat and back seat |
| Pricks get bought Ribena and Capri |
| Don’t gas me |
| I was on the back streets, couldn’t catch me |
| On a jack spree |
| They looking at me like «why you wanna rap me?», that’s crappy |
| I was ashy, not flashy |
| They couldn’t hack me |
| All-black in my Nike Air tracky |
| And I went all out on a fassy |
| And I didn’t make beats on a lappy |
| What you know about Rex in Stratty? |
| Exactly |
| Had a yatty, in Hackney |
| Big batty, a bit scatty |
| But I was happy |
| Cause she cooked saltfish and ackee |
| She didn’t clap me |
| So I’ve gotta give thanks to Selassie |
| Shy FX and UK Apache |
| The speaker blowing, better keep it going |
| Mention Hollowman when your speaker flowing |
| Get that mozzarella cheese, get the pizza going |
| Seen your gully side, now your weak is showing |
| My nigga Dizzee Ras, they say he’s a poet |
| They hear we drop a track, niggas tippy-toeing |
| Don’t come around a man with your pissy poems |
| I’ve got bitches on my dick and their lippy showing |