| Everybody-ody-ody-ody
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| Needs somebody-ody-ody-ody
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| Everybody-ody-ody-ody
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| Needs somebody, somebody to love
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| Ahh-ahh
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| I’m thankful
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| Where I reach in life, cah man grow rough
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| Ghetto yute, wi fight di fight
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| Dem cyan hold wi now
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| Cyan hold wi down
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| Dem cyan hold wi now, ooh
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| Cyan hold wi down
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| Woi
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| Uh, buss a shot for a real one
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| I don’t mean a gun finger, buss a real one
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| Dem free Buju, we was raised on the real dons
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| Not all these rassclart lil' sumn’s, nah
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| Black suit like I’m dressed for a killing
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| Steppin' at a aunties, something fresh we be whippin'
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| All black Range Rover, all black women
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| I bet the Daily Mail wan' photoshop a spliff in, aye
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| This one, it got the summer on smash
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| Couple hundred plus VAT, do the fucking quick maths
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| Out of character to gas but it’s facts, cuz
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| I was in Ayia Napa in bless club
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| You can ask Demon and you can ask D Dubz
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| Representin' East in a sea full of C1's, uh
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| I ain’t a gangster but I rave with dem
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| We both pop ten bottles of escapism
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| I’m thankful
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| Where I reach in life, cah man grow rough
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| Ghetto yute, wi fight di fight
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| Dem cyan hold wi now
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| Cyan hold wi down
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| Dem cyan hold wi now
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| Cyan hold wi down
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| Woi
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| Tell them a bad man ting
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| An a yard man ting
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| An a London ting
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| Bwoy dem wan' man fail
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| Dem nuh wan' man free
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| Dem nuh wan' man win
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| Dem know dem can’t violate
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| Cah mi have song wey ah sing like violin
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| I’m so god-damn blessed, everyday of mi life, I keep smiling
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| Used to play run house, every time the sun out
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| Now they’re getting guns out, man are getting run down
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| Every new day, a new drama, something’s gone down
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| Couple man gone in, a couple man just come out
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| Some Gucci loafers, we’re going out out
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| Fuck Hakkasan, got G sheakers looking gang there
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| We don’t twist fingers and we don’t wear bandanas
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| We just drink Henny from the bottle, call it bad manners
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| Yeah, we’re from bad manors, can’t take the mickey round here
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| If a boy move iffy 'round here, might clip him 'round ear
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| For the dawgs and kitties round here
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| But the gyal dem pretty round here (Oh gosh)
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| This is major living
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| Bore fruit like Bob with The Wailers with him
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| Champagne in the dance, I say we play the rhythm
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| Money pull up, make a jockey jack our favourite lyrics
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| Plus I ain’t baby sipping
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| I’m in the V. I, I don’t see none of them (Weh dem deh?)
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| Might see Ghetts, I see Post, I see Wretch (Chillin', ooh)
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| I see Bizzle, Dom P, nuttin' less (Wah gwan?)
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| Hollowman, that’s my gun man friend (Pump pump)
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| I come here with a couple money man friend (Wheelie dem)
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| So don’t come here with your bottle contest (Problem)
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| Every month, bills, every week, stress
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| But we blessed 'cause we made it out the ends
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| I’m thankful
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| Where I reach in life, cah man grow rough
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| Ghetto yute, wi fight di fight
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| Dem cyan hold wi now
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| Cyan hold wi down
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| Dem cyan hold wi now
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| Cyan hold wi down
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| Woi
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| Tell them a bad man ting
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| An a yard man ting
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| An a London ting
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| Bwoy dem wan' man fail
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| Dem nuh wan' man free
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| Dem nuh wan' man win
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| Dem know dem cyan violate
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| Cah mi have song wey ah sing like violin
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| I’m so god-damn blessed, everyday of mi life, I keep smiling
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| Matic ugly like Chucky bride
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| Anywhere mi go, mi ever have it pon mi side
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| Run up on the kid, that’s suicide
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| My killy drawn the .45, and do the .35
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| Hoii, champagne pop inna di crib (Sweet)
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| Dem life yah mi wan' live
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| Fly guy summer, sent the kids out the ends
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| But you can’t take the ends out the kid |