| I just done the whole dance now and I go home
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| Now his friend wants me to spit my bars on his phone
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| He wants me to do the warrior chant (blelele)
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| He said he wants it for his ringtone
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| I said you know what fam, nah, I gotta go
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| Try man I see Flowdan saying «and get wicked, we leave man for 6 like «So I said alright then, let me drop my flow
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| I said try take the mic coz I ain’t got a
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| I an’t rich but i got a few bob
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| You don’t nick, you don’t jack, you don’t rob
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| You ain’t running up on my gang
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| I roll with the biggest man, can’t you tell
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| You and your will get thrown off a cliff
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| I wouldn’t chat that shit around mine
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| Who’s leg are you trying to pull?
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| Hickory dickory dock
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| Make pounds around the clock
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| We wrap em up and stack em up and then we park em off
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| Hickory dickory dock
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| The hustle never stops
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| Always grime and keep on grinding till the day you drop
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| I don’t chat to the chiefs big man
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| I’m on lighting up your fam
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| Name’s not billy but the kid gets silly in the middle of the no man’s land
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| They don’t want it with the likes of me
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| Waste man won’t get his stripe from me
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| But i bet good money that a change of plan when i run up on a whole army
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| Them boys can’t touch me with a barge
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| So why your soldiers giving it the large
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| It’s not a skip on no more rudeboy, them boys better call me sarg
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| Coz I get money in the trenches
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| I’m on beef, not hitting the fence
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| I’ve been clutching on the fence too long rudeboy, I’m ready let the war
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| commence
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| Look, I treat beef like a house and move in
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| Things in the house, who’s in?
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| I run my mouth till the cows come in and tune in
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| And spread foot and mouth in every house they move in
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| I move in
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| Coz they don’t want beef, they want music and they hate us coz we can do this
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| But they ain’t you might as well
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| You know
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| It’s all music to me
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| Some confuse it with beef
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| And think i’m just gonna be
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| We can do this all day
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| Me, me, me, me
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| They say i’ve changed
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| I say you see me in the street
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| Please don’t confuse him with me
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| Bad boy trim, bad boy
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| Who said ought?
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| You’d better mind out, you’ll be spread out
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| On the floor with the left side of your head out |