Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sent Down, artist - Mik. Album song Blue Battlefield, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 03.04.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Family Tree
Song language: English
Sent Down |
| Yo, think you can shoot me? |
| Better know that my gun’s bisexual |
| So it will lick down you and your Julie |
| Shoot you in your neck, turn your diamonds ruby |
| Bullets’ll glide down your throat like doolies |
| Real life, it’s not a movie |
| I do this for the Queen’s head |
| But certain man do it for the princess’s booty |
| I par with the meanest dogs |
| No, I don’t mean Muttley and Scooby |
| You walk wherever, snatch off your jewellery |
| Or sling a slug in your right hand |
| If you try violate the ends |
| I’ll have your belly looking like a fountain or smoothie |
| When I roll up and I’m sounding a loosie |
| Grip’s always tight, never hold it loosely |
| I keep on vibesing to the tree and rap |
| If you ain’t in Tree then you’re probably crap |
| Been here from early, so I’m not back |
| Got a big tool and I’ll make it slap like uh |
| Won’t ever see badman with perm |
| On my block, not cistern |
| Let one off, watch him turn |
| Exorcist when his mid all burn |
| Uh, run a man down, see box dem swerve |
| Got a BB shank, it’s bold with a curve |
| Real mic man but I’m out for the Ps |
| I fly through with the birds and bees |
| With the big hand ting, I’ll be slapping off cheeks |
| Tuck man in like the shirt on neeks |
| I roll with badmans that shot to the geeks |
| Might see me on the road with five draws |
| In Henley jeans with the back all ripped |
| Like I won’t ever slip, bruv |
| Got two tings stashed on the block, see me with J |
| Better know you will get much more than your wrist cut |
| I’ve got the flick tucked, hear the youts talking |
| When I was on the back of the olders' |
| You was getting nappies all shitty and pissed up |
| Look |
| You couldn’t walk so you was getting picked up |
| Don’t run it up before your soul gets picked up |
| You’re a good boy so you won’t get sent down |
| And I’m a badboy so I won’t get picked up |
| Not with all the weapons I’ve picked up |
| And all the food I’ve picked up |
| Judge or devil, one day I’ll get sent down |
| Yo, uh |
| Too many man wanna war with the M |
| Nuttin' but hard body bars I send |
| Leave man’s face on the news at ten |
| Man try call out my name like say I was |
| One of dem washed up youts from then |
| Pass me the A4 paper quick |
| Duppy bars, I murder the pen |
| Look |
| Man should know that I do this easy |
| Leave man slumped all over the PC |
| Half of your headtop next to the TV |
| Why does man wanna look at my face |
| Like say I don’t know bare man that are greazy |
| Where is he now? |
| Bible-reading |
| Uh |
| Keep on hearing my man talk |
| My man keeps on talking like say |
| My man thinks I’d like to talk |
| Got the crep, done the walk |
| Leaving man outlined in chalk |
| CSI |
| New York |
| Uh |
| Keep on thinking what he thought |
| Once I see this yout on road |
| I’m trying out this ting I bought |
| Will not see my face in court |
| Judge don’t know my face or sort |
| Port |
| I heard that man wanna get me duppied, what? |
| Feel the impact of the pumpy, boom |
| Take man down like rugby |
| 45 in the trouser that’s comfy |
| Clap, headtop left all lumpy |
| Caught man with his wifey in a buggy |
| Shell to the left, right, back and fronty |
| Nine, face, bredrin jumpy |
| Wow, covered, blood, ugly |
| Pow, brains, guts, lovely |
| That’s what you get when you’re way too hungry |
| Out here, man ah get dropped like Humpty |
| Dumpty, holy poly, roly moly |
| Take my food? |
| I’ll take your soully |
| Mum, dad, aunt, son |
| Hospital bed, feeling uh |