| Diggin deep into the low budget
|
| Halftime
|
| We find
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| Diamonds in the rough
|
| We rough them up and watch them glisten
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| Yeah
|
| Yeahyayyy
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| Chicken thigh
|
| Ya know
|
| Chicken thigh
|
| My ill piece cosmic commentator
|
| Niche innovator
|
| Of this hard left
|
| Something like a treble cleft
|
| Turning over cobble like a back street chef
|
| Don’t you be mistaken is it odd dub for G
|
| Or go get them bricks or we can meet down blackheath
|
| Bringing the set, bringing the decks, bringing the plastic
|
| We can crash on a one or way
|
| Play for play
|
| To see who make the crowd bubble
|
| It’s pure trouble and trauma
|
| Weak hearts keep trying their love
|
| Sector few we central get rough we get bruised
|
| Left them walking open just they string they vest and shoes
|
| It was on the choice
|
| You chose to come and test
|
| Braised all your steaks now ain’t jack shite left
|
| Now you’re in the know you’ll be best to head the warning and learn
|
| You mess with them pickies and you shall get burnt
|
| That’s a fact with a 10 grand trap
|
| We hang a sound guy
|
| We hang him up high
|
| Nurse starts fi check ‘im, an we see the end cry
|
| Shoulda never test
|
| Shoulda never try
|
| Did he na walk on tha
|
| I consider why
|
| We hang a sound guy
|
| We hang him up high
|
| Nurse starts fi check ‘im an we see the end cry
|
| Did he not walk on tha
|
| I consider why
|
| Shoulda never test
|
| Shoulda never try
|
| Ain’t no stigma attached
|
| Unashamed
|
| That’s the proud posse
|
| Cruff cycle dudutuff
|
| From the cuff
|
| The script
|
| Ya know that it’s conclusive
|
| With the response from weak heart we flex
|
| Stay abusive
|
| We are the original soul g
|
| Born to defend that belief with a vigour
|
| Carrot juice nigga
|
| Born to deliver
|
| On type the boogy proof croof
|
| From the heart the soul
|
| It’s not socialite more like socialist
|
| Shack up wrack up
|
| Raggamatic twist tell me
|
| Why the hell you wan fi run up ya gums
|
| A criss tings we bring when Manuva come
|
| And ain’t no blaggin or braggin
|
| That stuff work miracles
|
| Geez get them tapes and in two weeks they fly like aeroplanes
|
| We should be full of ourselves
|
| Got these roots fi applies to the science that defines
|
| Frontline full time
|
| Diggin them trenches I sharpen my senses
|
| Sound of war drum
|
| For 10 miles around you hear that supersonic off (?)
|
| We stamp on weak hearts with size 12 foot
|
| We are
|
| Bloodthirsty
|
| Showing no mercy
|
| Needle hits the plate
|
| Town boys emigrate cos they just can’t handle
|
| Shame and disgrace
|
| Who be those brays trynn’a hold they face
|
| Trynn’a hold back the tears
|
| Who"s grip ah we fear
|
| Beggin for a bly but they dun get ill
|
| Contract is written an we gone for the kill
|
| Contract is written and we gone
|
| We hang a sound guy
|
| We hang him up high
|
| Nurse starts fi check him and we see the end, cry
|
| Did he not walk corner
|
| I consider why
|
| Shoulda never test
|
| Shoulda never try
|
| We hang a sound guy
|
| We hang him up high
|
| Did he not walk corner
|
| I consider why
|
| Shoulda never test
|
| Shoulda never try
|
| Should never test, yeah… |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Lynch , by - Roots Manuva. Song from the album Dub Come Save Me, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп