| I used to have ten youts knocking my door
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| Asking me to roll out and lick cars
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| Now I’ve got 25 youts knocking my door
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| Still asking me to spit bars
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| At least they’re not knocking and running
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| Plotting and gunning, shotting and bunning
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| If my crew knocked man’s door back in the day
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| It would be to hot him and run in
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| 20 past 4 in the morning
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| And I’m still up, I ate too late
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| My belly got fill up, all the mandem look tired
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| Fam, I don’t blaze
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| But I can bill up, so if I get bored
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| I might mm, bill it
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| At studio, I’m like mm, kill it
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| Then I duck from the room and I jump in the booth
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| When I dump on the tune
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| Rudeboy, hush
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| Don’t ask me why I’m in a rush
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| Don’t ask me why I’m not tweeting
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| I’m in Brent Cross, man I’m shopping in Lush
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| If you know me, phone me
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| I’mma go eat on my lonelies
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| I’m in Nandos with a veggie wrap
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| Or I’m sitting in Leon, munching a gobi
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| Whichever one’s nearer
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| VGang, now I see clearer
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| No meat, no cheese, no milk, no eggs
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| Don’t believe me? |
| Ask Sarah
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| Stop staring, you’re not four-eyed
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| I only put good food in my jaw-side
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| Sensodyne Classic, Listorene citrus
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| Cause I don’t wanna have no fluoride
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| Big up the man that know
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| The girls that know, teachers that know
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| Parents and children that know
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| If you don’t know, Boy Better Know
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| If anybody try draw my ting
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| I’mma have to have words with friends
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| To avoid the clash of clans
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| Man might go for a run with Tempz
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| Man might go for a run with Tim
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| Good food will turn a Fatboy Slim
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| Man like me perform to keep trim
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| Spit two bars, don’t have to go gym
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| We play grime all over the world still
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| Man bopping their head like Churchill
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| When us man touch down in New York, it’s lit
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| Ask Virgil
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| Ask Bari, crazy baldhead, word to Bob Marley
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| I will sit up on a riddim so neatly
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| Now they wanna bite me like Charlie
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| Charlie bit me (ow, Charlie!)
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| Test me, you and what army?
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| I’ll wear a Pagan out like Pagani
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| I’m gone, BRB |