Lyrics Kell Brook - Grim Sickers

Kell Brook

Yeah, stick it on him until he can’t stand up
I’ll start raining on his wig like dandruff
Round the corner, what’s that?
That’s mad stuff
Slumped him there, don don should’ve manned up
Hundred bagged up, fifty bagged up
Black bin bag him, make sure you get bagged up
Bedroom bagged up, whole crew bagged up
Bet against Grim till your bank gets bankrupt
Crew’ll get nyammed up, spin a top boy, that’s another two bags up
Swag don’t match up
I’m Merky times M, that’s Ghost Writer Catch Up
If my bars sound old, go away and come back two weeks in a row, that’s another
new batch up
Top boy clapped up, neck get grabbed up
Chest get stabbed up
I was writing bars with the mandem bagged up
And don’t question Sickers 'less you got the answer
Broken bones, whole body get plaster
Man tried to stab me, I stabbed him faster
Ting went in like an iPhone charger
Put some serious work on your father
Lay man down all next to his father
Man didn’t know I was a serious barrer
Send man way down the road like Farah
Fuck that, man ain’t catching Grim like Farah
Fuck that, put your hands on your head like Farah
Man don’t want no crud, no drama
Man wanna say my name in the booth?
Dangle man from the tallest roof
Better than him?
That’s a hundred percent true
Realest dons don’t know about you
Hundred bags when I jump on the tune
Send man’s soul to the fucking moon
One-inch punch make your chest plate move
Don’t call out my name if Grim don’t trouble you
No comeback when the white sheet covers you
Take out one, I’ll schedule the other two
Take out every single fucking one of you
Man wanna know why I talk that crud
But my arms still ache from the shovel and mud
Arms still ache from the spade and dirt
Dig an MC six feet in the earth
Funny thing is, could’ve been a lot worse
Could’ve been blacked-out in a packed-out church
Nan asked me why I don’t go church
Just know I sold out to Magnums and herb
Leave man bleeding all over the curb
Leave man bleeding all over the stairs
No comeback 'cause your diss got air
Yeah, let me make that clear
Yeah, let me make that clearer
Took man up with the Shard to Ameera
Back off, don’t come one step nearer
I’ll put four on your back like Vieira
Fuck that, put nine on his back like Shearer
Yeah, you wan' talk that reck?
You can end up slumped, you can end up dead
I’ll be running up steps
There’ll be no way out, no right or left
Via balcony edge, you best hear what I said
Yeah, decapitate heads, left to rot in shed
Send a million shells in your back and chest
I’ll be bodying man, no arms and legs
Bloodbath on steds, real gruesome deaths
Bare copper and lead for your unknown death
When I speed off bless in the unmarked reg
And if you ain’t dead then you’re definitely injured
I’ve got the belly, now everybody’s winded
Banged and missed, missed him by inches, I’m itching
Run up on man like Linford
Man are making Christmas
Draw for the sharpest tool in the kitchen
Caught him, gripsed him, chinged him
Picked him up and binned him
Man ah mek a man sing, that’s Sir Cliff Richard
Couldn’t give a fuck about the weights he’s lifting
You’ll get slumped for the girl you’re lipsing
Lead on the floor, laid out, floor-kissing
Might get found by somebody pissing
Might get found by somebody fishing
I said fuck that, you’re fucking mad
Anything I spray is a hundred Zs
Nah, anything I spray is a hundred bags
Send man’s soul to the moon and back
Intenstines all hanging out on your lap
Put some serious work on your dad
Lay man down all next to his dad
Sickers