Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Barclays Freestyle, artist - Tinchy Stryder. Date of issue: 21.04.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Barclays Freestyle |
| Black clouds, Ruff Sqwad, Flee Gang |
| 140, let me ride this |
| Yeah, I’m warming, it’s a warning |
| Hunger’s back, yeah, my belly keeps calling |
| Surf on a different wave, not falling |
| Choke on the highest grade, let me school them |
| Ruff Sqwad demon |
| Murder the microphone and I’m bleeding |
| Guilty fingerprints? |
| I won’t leave them, wow, face |
| No silencer when I squeeze in |
| Let me know what’s popping them |
| Four top 10s, stacking Ms |
| Walk in the showroom, drop top Benz |
| Own this game, where the fuck’s my rent? |
| I’ll speak for the Biro pen |
| Heat in the flow will them |
| I’m still down even though I’ve blown up |
| Tightest circle, fuck your friends |
| Big tracks, I’m nice and I’m up |
| Somebody light something up |
| Then I’ll big 45 or 9 something up |
| Sharpest flow and knifing 'em up |
| Get paid more cause I’m rhyming enough |
| I’m riding the riddim, I’m cycling up |
| Tyres, I’m bored of wearing 'em off |
| Hot fire, wield, I’m burning 'em off |
| These days, I fuck with the majors |
| Trips to LA, I fuck with the Lakers |
| I’m a boss, toast to that |
| Spades I drink is straight, no chasers |
| Feel wavy, fam, I need straighteners |
| Still LDN with no traitors |
| And they’re asking if I still rep this |
| Them questions there are no-brainers |
| T dot Stryde, I burst from time |
| Wouldn’t buss if he had two Glock 9s |
| Got one or two goons on the payroll |
| Dun know, done for the cheapest price |
| Back, you know, stacking flows |
| 96 Bars of Revenge was cold |
| Them man still deal with bills |
| Flee, grands, flashing notes |
| When it comes to grime, you can’t school him |
| Strydes, no longer a student |
| Them man are infants, they’re drooling |
| Headlock the plan and Lex Lug 'em |
| Yeah, we’re old school |
| From Fruity Loops, now Pro Tools |
| Like your girl so you better look after your girl |
| Round here there’s no rules |
| Mind where you’re walking |
| Bring enemies to the house them track 'em down |
| Rudeboy, mind how you’re talking |
| One nug, one hand, I will clap 'em down |
| Hearing the talk in the manor |
| Heard couple man are tryna scheme on me |
| Then try and run up on me with a gun up |
| Heard I’m a veggie, there’s Ps on me |
| Tell them take time |
| Tell them stay off the flake shine |
| Glimpse up my man’s waistline |
| It will dim your lights in daytime |
| Dem man have got tings in boots |
| Protect the pink you loot |
| Respect a G when I see one |
| N, that sure ain’t you |