Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Not for the Radio , by - Tinie Tempah. Release date: 13.04.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Not for the Radio |
| They may not play this on the radio |
| So I’m gonna make them sure |
| This is the realest shit I ever wrote (that I ever wrote) |
| So hear my spirit grow |
| Grow free in myself |
| Feel my humanity |
| Kill this, it’s a felony |
| I’ll make sure you remember me |
| I’ll make sure you remember |
| Uh, climbin' high to a brand new grounds |
| Got a new crib and you can’t come round |
| This year, haters gonna pick me up |
| This year, no one’s gonna hold me down |
| Yeah, I’m the shit, yo, word to my bowels |
| I wear snapbacks, y’all wear crowns |
| Crisis rich if I wasn’t this big |
| Crisis big if I wasn’t this proud |
| Yeah, 8 year sittin' on top |
| Yeah, I been there, done that, had that what |
| 'Fore I did rap, had two, two jobs |
| Hip-hop, grime and then I went pop |
| Trade your life for my life, let’s swap |
| Go clean in my dad’s old shop with a mop |
| Where man knew if I wasn’t gettin' money on the ends |
| I used to wear Lyle and scott |
| Used to love hoes, now I want bae |
| Used to want dough, now I want change |
| Used to be wilder, now I’m more tame |
| Used to be crazy, now I’m insane |
| Yeah, I’m insane, yeah |
| Talkin' to the mirror like, «How did I get this fame?» |
| TBT '07 and 8 |
| Me a rich like how we gonna get this play |
| I was like, mate, uh |
| They may not play this on the radio |
| So I’m gonna make them sure |
| This is the realest shit I ever wrote (that I ever wrote) |
| So hear my spirit grow |
| Grow free in myself |
| Feel my humanity |
| Kill this, it’s a felony |
| I’ll make sure you remember me |
| I’ll make sure you remember |
| Yeah, uh, I think she in love with a married man |
| I fell in love with a married chick |
| Sometimes I run to a random place |
| Sometimes I’m scared of not havin' shit |
| Sometimes I fear I might lose it all |
| It’s such a crazy world, law of averages |
| I don’t know how Drizzy manages |
| I don’t know how he manages |
| Nearly fell apart in the first year |
| Didn’t think that I could handle it |
| Rude time, climb, grab a pit |
| We smellin' like we sellin' cannabis |
| Who in the fuck do they think they are? |
| Hope they don’t think I’m just any guy |
| Hope they don’t think I’ma let it slide |
| I got every single line memorised |
| Love letters to the city, city, city |
| Love letters to my city |
| Thank you for fuckin' with me |
| I know the mayor, I know the nitties |
| Lost some papers but I gained the masses |
| Wrote my world before I made a classic |
| Take a pill and let 'em chase the magic |
| Fuck whoever tryna hate on Patrick |
| They may not play this on the radio |
| So I’m gonna make them sure |
| This is the realest shit I ever wrote (that I ever wrote) |
| So hear my spirit grow |
| Grow free in myself |
| Feel my humanity |
| Kill this, it’s a felony |
| I’ll make sure you remember me |
| I’ll make sure you remember |
| This is love, love letters to the city, city, city |
| Love letters to my city |
| Love, love, love thank you for fuckin' with me |
| Thank you for fuckin' with me |
| We bring the stars out |
| We bring the whole Geordie Shore cast out |
| Got a mandem, but it’s all wild |
| Been drivin' round, we fast now |
| I ain’t even tryna gloat |
| We only that boy skiin' on slopes |
| Where there is only roach |
| This the realest shit I ever wrote, uh |
| They may not play this on the radio |
| So I’m gonna make them sure |
| This is the realest shit I ever wrote (that I ever wrote) |
| So hear my spirit grow |
| Grow free in myself |
| Feel my humanity |
| Kill this, it’s a felony |
| I’ll make sure you remember me |
| I’ll make sure you remember me |
| Said you’ll remember me |
| Always gon' remember, always gon' remember me |
| Uh, climbin' high to a brand new grounds |
| Got a new crib and you can’t come round |
| This year, haters gonna pick me up |
| This year, no one’s gonna hold me down |
| Yeah, I’m the shit, yo, word to my bowels |
| I wear snapbacks, y’all wear crowns |
| Crisis rich if I wasn’t this big |
| Crisis big if I wasn’t this proud, yeah |