Lyrics Monday to Sunday - Fliptrix, Dru Skills, Rebs

Monday to Sunday

Run one
Representing for the UK
Yo I blaze like sun rays Monday to Sunday
The trigger-tongue lyricist, I do shows to fund raise
Get a little stressed, I wanna run away some days
Jump out the mess and find the middle in this dumb maze
Snakes, I’ve got to make a lot, not little like some dumb brains
I do this for myself, my fam, girl and my homebres
To bill a spliff sick kid, kipping after long days
Fuck work I shot grade and boxed up a cop’s face
Knock down the door till the motherfucking lock breaks
Don’t knock me, you’ll get knocked out like a Cockney
Would do to you, if you stepped on his shoe, with a rude attitude
From Herne Hill to Lewisham, man are getting chewed up and spat out like
chewing gum
Your crew consists of one, I rap like Tarantula: fangs round the neck of your
newborn son
Before my crew can even come, you’re running and you’ve gone!
Fliptrix
Run one
We raise the air waves
Representing for the UK
I’ll bring trouble in the game and bust your face with the checkmate
So pass me the cheque mate, cause bruv I’ve got to get paid
Never get corrupt like I’m Nestlé, or girls who are working the sex trade
I make papes the best way, don’t get it twisted;
Sort of like a sex change, you get me?
I’m drunk like PGs or Tetley’s
Set heavy with my testies and rep with the besties
Take time for my smoking, gotta let my chest breathe
Let my body function, never rep North, South, East, West
Bruv I rep London, it’s crunch time
I’ll bust rhymes, so hungry for the stage it’s like it’s motherfucking lunchtime
I’ll spit raps over hip-hop
Bhangra or bagpipes, I’m a mad guy, in search of the gold like a magpie
My graff’s on your track side, it’s slapped like a bad wife
Or bunned like a crack pipe
If man don’t send me props when I rap tight
Fliptrix
Run one
We raise the air waves
Representing for the UK