| Jet-plane, headed up to the sky
|
| Spread wings in the clouds, getting high
|
| We ain't hit a rave in a while
|
| So take me back to London
|
| Yo, I do deals but I never get twanged
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| Moves that ain't ever been planned
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| Know goons that were never in gangs
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| Where I'm from chat shit get banged
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| Where I'm from chat shit, let the 12-gauge rip
|
| Yeah, sick how it fits in my hand
|
| I don't mix with the glitz and the glam
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| Or these stupid pricks on the 'Gram
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| I don't do online beef, or neeky grime beef
|
| I'm way too G'd up to beef a grime neek
|
| I bought an AP to help me time-keep
|
| My shooter ride deep, he moves when I speak
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| My shooter ride, shoot a guy
|
| Leave you wet like you scuba dive
|
| You were younger then, and now we're unified
|
| South London boys get you crucified
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| I'm gone
|
| It's that time
|
| Big Mike and Teddy are on grime
|
| I wanna try new things
|
| They just want me to sing
|
| Because nobody thinks I write rhymes
|
| And now I'm back in the bits with my guy
|
| Give me a packet of crisps with my pint
|
| I hit my friends up, go straight to the pub
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| 'Cause I haven't been home in time
|
| Yes, I
|
| But that's my fault (Oh)
|
| Grossed half a billi' on the divide tour (Oh)
|
| Yes, I ain't kidding, what would I lie for? |
| (Oh)
|
| But now I'm back in the track with Big Michael (Woah)
|
| He said, "Teddy, never get off your high horse
|
| And never let 'em take your crown"
|
| I've been away for a while, traveled a million miles
|
| But I'm heading back to London Town, right now
|
| Jet-plane, headed up to the sky (to the sky)
|
| Spread wings in the clouds, getting high (woop woop)
|
| We ain't hit a rave in a while (in a while)
|
| So take me back to London
|
| Bass high, middle night, ceiling low (ceiling low)
|
| Sweat brow dripping down when in Rome (when in Rome)
|
| No town does it quite like my home (they don't)
|
| So take me back to London
|
| Yo when I squeeze off this little pen of mine
|
| Done the remix, now I got Ed on grime
|
| And this ain't like any top-ten of mine
|
| I arrived at Wembley ahead of time
|
| And that's stadiums, man are aliens
|
| I drink supermalts and vibranium
|
| I got an RM11 titanium
|
| And I rock 5970 daily
|
| But I want soul
|
| I want flows
|
| Don't need tags ripping off my clothes
|
| Don't need pricks blowing up my phone
|
| And Ted said, "That's just the way things go"
|
| It's just the way things go, amazing flows
|
| Grime or rap, man, I give 'em both
|
| Took this sound that was made in Bow and went global, man
|
| Now the case is closed
|
| 2015 in a Badingham pub
|
| I told Stormz two years you'll be wrapping it up
|
| And you'll go through tears with the people you love
|
| And when you get to the top, man, it's never enough
|
| 'Cause you can win BRITs (It don't stop)
|
| And you can do Glasto' (Headline slot)
|
| But when you're miles away and you're feeling alone
|
| Gotta remember that there ain't no place like home
|
| Jet-plane, headed up to the sky (to the sky)
|
| Spread wings in the clouds, getting high (getting high)
|
| We ain't hit a rave in a while (in a while)
|
| So take me back to London
|
| Bass high, middle night, ceiling low (ceiling low)
|
| Sweat brow dripping down when in Rome (when in Rome)
|
| No town does it quite like my home (like my home)
|
| So take me back to London
|
| So take me back to London |