Lyrics Spookfest - Footsie

Spookfest

Random ones
Start spraying off bars, random ones
If you listen up close, inna my lyrics, you’ll hear pars like random ones
(random)
Nah, we can’t work in tandem ones (tandem)
Kidnap the game on a ransom one
Come to your yard, ransom ones
Slap man at his door, spank some ones
Ugly, this ain’t handsome, son
Everyting’s loaded, you’ll get folded (I'm loaded)
Don’t act up, I’ll hand you son
Or I can do it old school and land you one (bang)
Before you’ve blinked I’ve banged you one
A good nights sleep I’ll hand you one
That pussy’ole said that he don’t like me (so)
Don’t watch that, I can’t stand you son
I’m sick
I used to be on foot on the strip
But that’s not the lick so man copped a whip
Part cash and part plastic
Now feds wanna search my shit (what)
Like 99 problems bitch
But that’s not the lick so I give them lip (truss)
You can’t take Jme for a prick
I’m hustling like Tip and Chip
I used to move bits in the bits
But that’s not the lick so I fixed up quick (sick)
Now I pick up the mic and spit
I make capital Gs like Eric Schmidt (what)
I will never lyrically slip
Cause that’s not the lick
Man are making hits
The day I die is the day I quit (safe)
I’m lighting them up and I’m bunning them out
Rolling them up and I’m bunning them down to the roach
School his whole team just like a coach
Been around the world I’ve been coast to coast
And yeah I’m on this more than most
Lick a man down and propose a toast
I’ve got the styles and p’s, I’m a ghost
Then, then, then
I come back with a banger that’s nanger
Man are gonna get left on a hanger
He’s gonna get left on the line (to dry)
I’ve been drying him out
Just like weed I’ve been drying him out
And his girl, I’ve been eyeing her out
Like a new flavour, I’ll be trying her out
When I put her in the grind and grind her out
Man wanna hate me
Cause I do it bigger than big, I do it big, I do it B.I.G
Girls wanna rate me and wanna date me
See my video on MTV
Going on shady, going in lately
Boy Better Know til I D.I.E
Man, try violate me
Man will get duppied like violently
I don’t wanna hear no more talk
Man are eating great, no knife and fork
But the grime
I don’t know what they thought
Them man are popstar like champagne cork
I will pop stars just like champagne cork
Body outlined in chalk
Hand on the Bible, lie in court
No talk to the pigs
No bacon talk
My career’s got so many bidders
Cause I cut more paper than a pair of scissors
How you gonna come against a team full of winners
With a flow that’s way more amateur, they’re beginners
I never use the «n word», but you know what, today I really ain’t fucking
around with these niggas
Olympics is over but I would still bang
And watch them go dive like synchronised swimmers
This kid’s sick
What’s in his hand would lift your car in the air like machines in Kwik-Fit
I keep telling them mind your bloody mouth
Or a bloody mouth will make you look like you wear lipstick
My punchlines hit like a plastic surgeon
No botox, still leave you with big lips
I’m artistic
With bars I can spoil your whole life and let you relate to a rich kid
Man wanna run off your mouth online
Arm lock man, make a big man cry
Run up in the yard, 3D man’s wife
DDT man’s child
Spit so deep that I’m bringing up bile
Ain’t gave a man a dead leg in a while
When I’m gone it’s a ting
Man better jet off
Before man let off
Hop out the whip, burst man’s head off
Rise up the ting like a wheelie
Before that, they were talking greazy
?
Stevie
Eyes closed when you see me
I go Blunkett
Blind on the beat, I go Blunkett
Blind on the beat, I go Blunkett
Sleeeeeeeeew Demmmmmmm