Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Gingerbread Man, artist - Skepta. Album song Microphone Champion, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 31.05.2009
Record label: Skepta
Song language: English
Gingerbread Man |
| You can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man |
| Rolling with a mic in my left hand |
| Diss me, you’re a walking dead man |
| Could have been Bruce Lee, could have been Jackie Chan |
| I’m Karate Kid, send for the head band |
| This year I’m not playing with a man |
| Pause, I’m not staying with a man, I’m gone |
| I’m not spraying with a man that’s never produced a beat, never had decks |
| Chatting 'bout I’m not the king of the flex |
| It’s like them man are so obsessed |
| Watching me like I’m wearing a pink dress |
| I’m Bowser, them man are like Princess |
| Stole my flow, but they won’t confess |
| Everything cool though blud, no stress |
| But next time you’re looking at your PRS |
| Just know |
| You’re never gonna be like Skepta |
| Nobody ain’t matching me |
| You’re never gonna be like Skepta |
| Nobody ain’t matching me |
| Ner ner ner ner ner, ner ner ner ner ner |
| Ner ner ner ner ner, ner ner ner ner ner |
| Yo, they said I’ve got a basic flow |
| No, I’ve got an amazing show |
| Halifax know that I’m making dough |
| Changing money, Gatwick and Heathrow |
| Black rims on the white 350 |
| When I drive over the bumps, I’ve gotta go slow |
| Cause my car’s way too low |
| Try take mine and the gunshots blow |
| You said you was ready for the war |
| When it kicked off, you were standing where the feds were |
| No fed can make me say «yes sir» |
| I rep Boy Better Know and I ain’t looking for a transfer |
| You thought you was on a hype ting? |
| You ain’t met my little bro killer here |
| Like my older bro Ky I’m a ninja |
| Skepta, Boy Better Know entrepreneur |
| You’re never gonna be like Skepta |
| Nobody ain’t matching me |
| You’re never gonna be like Skepta |
| Nobody ain’t matching me |
| Ner ner ner ner ner, ner ner ner ner ner |
| Ner ner ner ner ner, ner ner ner ner ner |
| So which one of you lot wanna get burned like the bottom of the soup pot |
| Like Jermaine Neblett I’m too hot |
| See the arms race, boy over there with the gloves on |
| He’s rolling with a Bulldog |
| So keep thinking that my crew’s soft |
| It’s my house, take your shoes off |
| when I’m moving, just move off |
| Rudeboy come out the yard |
| Skepta, I can’t run out of bars |
| And if sky’s the limit, I’m heading for the stars |
| Back to the future, spaceship cars |
| Now all the family’s eating |
| I won’t sign another deal so fast |
| Man are looking for the big boy contract |
| Them man are happy with five day pass |
| You’re never gonna be like Skepta |
| Nobody ain’t matching me |
| You’re never gonna be like Skepta |
| Nobody ain’t matching me |
| Ner ner ner ner ner, ner ner ner ner ner |
| Ner ner ner ner ner, ner ner ner ner ner |
| You’re never gonna be like Skepta |
| Nobody ain’t matching me |
| You’re never gonna be like Skepta |
| Nobody ain’t matching me |
| Ner ner ner ner ner, ner ner ner ner ner |
| Ner ner ner ner ner, ner ner ner ner ner |