Lyrics Barclays Freestyle - Tinchy Stryder

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