Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Corn on the Curb, artist - Skepta.
Date of issue: 05.05.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Corn on the Curb |
Everyday, bro, we’ve gotta stay battling |
Gotta stay fighting, gotta stay striving |
Gotta stay dreaming, gotta stay believing |
Gotta stay scheming |
I broke down a few more barricades |
Got me a few more accolades |
Used to look forward to the weekend |
Now every day’s like Saturday |
Surrounded by stars |
Come chill with the constellation |
Then she asked me what my real name was |
And killed the conversation |
Sometimes I’ve gotta scratch my head |
Like big man ting on a level |
Only my mum and dad call me Junior |
What makes you so special? |
No Rolex timepiece |
No Hublot kettle |
But still I know when it’s time to jump in the car |
Put the foot to the pedal like |
Yeah, I don’t care about VIP |
I’ve got very important places to be |
While I’m asleep, I’m making a beat |
Girls in the house getting naked for me |
What I’m tryna say is basically |
Never get a joke man mistaken for me |
Corn on the curb if a man diss me |
My niggas got the biscuits in T |
Santa Claus used to miss my house |
So I decorated my own Christmas tree |
Ring man’s phone if he think’s it’s beef |
What do you mean, «who is this, blud?"It's me |
My niggas been on crime |
Don’t get it twisted cause I don’t beef online |
My niggas violent, my niggas loopy |
Something you ain’t seen on Vine |
I don’t want a like, I don’t want a follow |
Diss me today, link me tomorrow |
I’ve got goons that can’t leave the country |
Above the law, under obbo |
I know pain, I know sorrow |
I know empty, I know hollow |
I just flew my Gs out to Amsterdam |
And I told them «thank me tomorrow» |
Cuh man have been in the kitchen |
Experimenting with the whipping |
And you see, the road ting and the music ain’t mixing |
Would’ve thought man was playing baseball |
Way man are outside pitching |
Never been a punk, never been a victim |
Wanna hate on me? |
Wanna hate on Storm? |
Fuck that, let the kings in |
I start ringing MCs |
Go radio, I start swinging MCs |
I was in the trenches, everyday grinding |
You couldn’t say a man weren’t bringing MCs |
I will pick up the phone, start ringing MCs |
Bars inna my touch, bringing MCs |
They know I’ve got Skeppy on my team |
We were on road, living it, skilling MCs |
Producers, plus we are living MCs |
Bare vibes we have given MCs |
I was there back in the day when it was garage |
And them man said they wanna get rid of MCs |
But them man couldn’t get rid of MCs |
Cause since then, we’ve become bigger MCs |
Some MC debts |
Skibadee, Baseman and Trigga MC |
Yeah, us man are blazing powers |
Them man are blazing Benson |
My bredrin said it’s his birthday |
Took him onstage with Drake and Section |
Hate my niggas cause every day, it’s another great invention |
Wanna talk about loot? |
Then I bring the loot out |
Talk about shootout? |
Better be a shootout like a western |
Cause I don’t fear no man |
Think you’re a killer but your name ain’t Cam |
Oi, pussyhole, don’t look in my span |
Cause you might get shot on the road like 28 gram |
And you know who I am |
Shower man down like Fireman Sam |
Drive to your ends on a two-year ban |
With Solo in the transit van |
Nah, you can’t diss my mum |
Shots start fly out and man get bun |
Fling on my black garments and dun |
Dry skin between my index finger and thumb |
I hate man like a nun |
That’s why I wanna buy a haunted gun |
Can’t get killed before I get to see my son |
Them tings can’t run |
They got me thirsty for blood again |
They got me talking crud again |
They got- |
Yo, fam |
Yo, Chip |
Talk to me, man |
Where are you, though? |
Who are you with? |
I’m on my Js, blud |
Sound, man. |
This ting has got me, blud, I’m not gonna lie, fam. |
I’m not gonna |
front, fam. |
Mad pressures from every angle, fam |
Yeah? |
It’s come like I’m too ambitious to be with the mandem on the road but, I’m… |
like… I can’t be up there with them people either… you know what I’m |
saying? |
I’m too black to be up there, you see what I’m saying, fam? |
I don’t know, I feel like… I feel like I’m in limbo, Chippy. |
I feel like I’m |
in limbo, fam |
Fam, you’re going mad, fam. |
I’ve been, I’ve been waiting to speak to you, fam. |
You’re going way too mad, fam. |
Like what the fuck did you mean like you don’t |
know why I mentioned your name, fam? |
Like North London, fam. |
You got the call |
from God to do something deeper, bro. |
Like, go got the call to go and make |
everyone look at everything else that is happening over here, fam. |
You get me? |
That’s a deeper calling, bro. |
Like them callings there, it’s not everyone’s |
phone that gets that ring ring there, you see what I’m saying, fam? |
Like super powers fam, super charged, bro |
I hear that, fam |
Like just being you alone, fam, niggas getting to watch. |
You’re doing what |
you’re supposed to do, bro. |
Cuh we ain’t seen nuttin' like this happen before. |
Who’s seen the country flip on its head like this, fam? |
These youts don’t know |
what’s going on, fam. |
They ain’t got a fucking clue, fam. |
Independent to the T, |
fam. |
Love, brudda, man. |
I needed that powers. |
Power up fam, I don’t even like |
hearing you sound like this, blud. |
I needed them. |
The mission’s deeper right |
now. |
Love, brudda. |
Mad. |
Alright, fam, I’m gonna shout you, man. |
What you saying |
though, everything good? |
Blud, love you bro, man, just do what you gotta do. |
Man’s doing what I gotta do, |
fam. |
You already know, bro. |
Powers. |
Powers |