| They don’t love me
|
| I like it
|
| I ain’t inna their circle of bread
|
| I’m out of the ring like Tyson
|
| I don’t really get too close
|
| I watch from afar like snipers
|
| Cuh man ah man’s separate, outsider
|
| I ain’t never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Still turn up and do my ting
|
| Never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Still turn up and do my ting
|
| Yo, never invited
|
| Furthermore, yeah, that’s how we like it
|
| Everyting’s in order, you know my corner
|
| Bare Stone Island, Nike ticks
|
| Turn up, don’t bother with the guest list
|
| We don’t get searched at the entrance
|
| We don’t wanna lock off the dance
|
| But sometimes the vibe just swings like a pendant
|
| But now I’m in the dance and vibing
|
| Bare gyal are getting excited
|
| Can tell why we never got the invite
|
| Tek 'way your wifey and side chick
|
| We move to the gyal dem regular
|
| Bare face, never gonna hide it
|
| Black bandana gang in every location
|
| Party ah gwan, we’ll find it
|
| I go anywhere I wanna go
|
| It’s a disciple ting, no hesitation
|
| Novelist don’t take regulation
|
| I’m a top boy and it’s blatant
|
| Pull up on the scene, man are like «ahh, rah, he’s here»
|
| Then I hit 'em with the «MMMYEH»
|
| Look for the soundsystem, then I hit 'em with the
|
| «Stop, wait, everyting clear
|
| Mmm, mmm, yeah, yeah»
|
| Dun know when I’m on the mic, I tear
|
| I pull up like I’m meant to be there
|
| My lyrics are what they wanna hear
|
| Enter everywhere, even on air
|
| I’m a dan, and what fam when I’m here
|
| Man can’t tell me I can’t come near
|
| When I step in the dance, I make everybody glance
|
| Like oh my
|
| «No he didn’t», yes he did
|
| South London, I’m an SE kid
|
| Bandana on, Blue set
|
| Don’t fear that I rep these bits
|
| My presence talks and I don’t
|
| Go where I wanna go, God, let me live
|
| Invite myself and touch mic as well
|
| And big up the bouncer that let me in
|
| And all of my set Gs in
|
| I am a man that keeps it real
|
| I’m dark and brown on a Pepsi ting
|
| Ladies see me and wanna get me in
|
| Best know, when I’m on microphone
|
| They don’t regret these things
|
| I come cause I wanna bless these kids
|
| With the rules that a kid from SE live
|
| They don’t love me
|
| I like it
|
| I ain’t inna their circle of bread
|
| I’m out of the ring like Tyson
|
| I don’t really get too close
|
| I watch from afar like snipers
|
| Cuh man ah man’s separate, outsider
|
| I ain’t never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Still turn up and do my ting
|
| Never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Still turn up and do my ting
|
| Anyone who likes that, go that way
|
| Gwan with yourself
|
| Out here, done it all on myself
|
| Dem little shots they try send
|
| Can’t hurt you, wanna be at war with yourself
|
| I’m swerving all of the Ls
|
| Can’t slow me down, I’m sure of myself
|
| I won’t be waiting on no one
|
| Nah, man, I’m sorting myself
|
| Everyting’s me, rarely been «we»
|
| No, I don’t bread people I don’t see
|
| Would’ve been working on tings yourself
|
| But you wanna run around and scream out team
|
| Oh please, what type of teef?
|
| Never oversaturate steeze
|
| Can’t pattern any style themselves
|
| So they CTRL+C then CTRL+V
|
| Can’t control me, not their friend
|
| Ain’t their darg, I ain’t got no lead
|
| Man ah man’s solo like 45
|
| So Boy Better Know that’s not me
|
| We don’t parler, we don’t speak
|
| Stay over there and I’ll do me
|
| I’m 'nuff comfy over east side
|
| Not with fake friends I don’t need
|
| They don’t love me
|
| I like it
|
| I ain’t inna their circle of bread
|
| I’m out of the ring like Tyson
|
| I don’t really get too close
|
| I watch from afar like snipers
|
| Cuh man ah man’s separate, outsider
|
| I ain’t never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Still turn up and do my ting
|
| Never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Never invited
|
| Still turn up and do my ting |