| My sound’s the realest
|
| My sound’s the real deal
|
| Hold tight the ends, East Ham, Plaistow, Stratford
|
| Canning Town, stand up, ayy!
|
| Hold tight the ends that city
|
| Got the whole ends and Richard with me
|
| Man like Goose and my nigga Sticky
|
| Ashmond just got the Richard Mille
|
| Man can’t call me no pickaninny
|
| Big magnum cost a pretty penny
|
| Couple LPs and a couple Diddys
|
| Couple Liv Popes and a couple Iggys
|
| All-white dance get shutdown
|
| Ragga, them pedals just touch down
|
| Gyal come with you, they’re with us now
|
| Boogie got jungle on lock now
|
| I don’t cut shapes, I just cut riddim
|
| If it ain’t Vybez, I ain’t fucking with it
|
| Rudeboys don’t response for no dissing
|
| Catch up inna big is a man’s schism
|
| Man have got the rum-pu-pu-pum-pum
|
| Mek a boy run like he stole something
|
| Run up on me, that’s a madness
|
| Rum-pu-pu-pum-pum
|
| Hold tight the mandem on lockdown
|
| God bless and keep your 'ead up now
|
| Wifey was real, she did hold out
|
| Dozen roses up her nose now
|
| My sound’s the realest, we know
|
| Shut down dance wherever we go
|
| And we keep a big ting for those haters
|
| And it goes po-po-po-po-po-po
|
| My sound’s the realest, we know
|
| Shut down dance wherever we go
|
| And we keep a big ting for those haters
|
| And it goes po-po-po-po-po-po
|
| Corned beef and rice, it was real then
|
| Please buss a shot for your real friend
|
| Man like Fab and my nigga Smithy
|
| Got the whole ends and Richard with me
|
| Man just might fly up Manny
|
| Link up the mandem up Manny
|
| Got a couple bruddas up country
|
| Hold tight Kygo and Jus D
|
| My sound’s the realest, we know
|
| Shut down dance wherever we go
|
| And we keep a big ting for those haters
|
| And it goes po-po-po-po-po-po
|
| My sound’s the realest, we know
|
| Shut down dance wherever we go
|
| And we keep a big ting for those pagans
|
| And it goes (po-po-po-po-po-po)
|
| Dem boy some haters
|
| Hating for real
|
| Those boys some haters
|
| So we keep a big ting for those pagans
|
| And it goes (everybody dead now)
|
| We either whine gyal or we stan' up
|
| But badman don’t MC Hammer
|
| Made in the manor where the guns dem clap up
|
| Don’t need no Santa fi boy get wrap up
|
| Must big up Marlene and Big Pat up
|
| RIP Auntie Vicky, true champion
|
| Down by the River Thames,
|
| Mum played and she played Daddy
|
| They scream no black role models on these streets
|
| But man model Roleys out on these streets
|
| Tryna push a roller out on these streets
|
| Tryna get a Rover out on these deets
|
| Paid my dues, then get no receipt
|
| This the motherfucking thanks I get from this scene?
|
| Ten years deep, a thousand 16s
|
| And man a headline but didn’t receive
|
| Let me bloodclart live, spit my bloodclart shit
|
| I’m a forefather, that’s my bloodclart kids
|
| Tell a hater it is what it bloodclart is
|
| Then tell a real sound man to bring back my ting
|
| My sound’s the realest, we know
|
| Shut down dance wherever we go
|
| And we keep the big sitting for those haters
|
| And it goes po-po-po-po-po-po
|
| My sound’s the realest, we know
|
| Shut down dance wherever we go
|
| And we keep a big ting for those haters
|
| And it goes po-po-po-po-po-po
|
| My sound’s the realest
|
| My sound’s the real
|
| My end’s the realest
|
| My mandem real |