Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Play Your Corner, artist - WEN
Date of issue: 16.03.2014
Song language: English
Play Your Corner |
Original don dada |
That’s why unnu haffi chat to me proper |
Rise up mi gun, watch everything start scatter |
Till the gun man ah buss, it goes a rat-a an' tatta', yeah |
Dem haffi chat to me decent |
Cah mi will murder boy without reason |
Bwoy get duppy like him commit treason |
And mi nuh care which bloodclart season |
A coulda winter |
Mi mek soundboy run like a sprinter |
Mi will get bad like an old school ninja |
Gunshot red up your head like you ah ginger |
Original bad boy inna di area |
Shot bite bwoy skin like malaria |
Dem ah gwan like dem ah gangster |
When I come around, di grime scene get scarier |
Ayy bwoy, you a snitch, informer, you’re a grass |
That’s why you will get a shot inna your arse |
That’s why we nuh trust them bloodclart boy |
Any time of the day, much less after dark |
Inna war, we will back up mi gun dem calm |
Same time, mi will back up mi gun dem fast |
We see Babylon and we don’t talk |
You see Babylon and you start talk |
You start sing, you start tell Babylon everything |
Tell Babylon how much coke mi ah shot |
Tell Babylon how much gun mi ah bring |
How mi ah run up in a soundclash with twenty man |
And how mi ah kill everything |
Bwoy life up when the spinner start spin |
And your neck get bruk when di sinner start sin |
Hol' on a-yout |
Hol' on a-man |
Rise up mi hand from dem |
Hol' on a-yout |
Hol' on a-man |
Draw for mi gun when mi |
You know that was bang out of order |
Crossed the line, now you’ve crossed the border |
You just turned the wrong corner |
You could have had Wen play your corner |
Look, I’m going to shower this ting down |
I’ve got a clip for a coward that’s in town |
You better get down, I got a stick |
And I come here to spit rounds |
You wanna come around here with dem likkle bars |
And some likkle shit sound? |
You better know man ah roll with the big sound |
And my gun’s got the largest teeth |
Rudeboy, you can call it a big hound |
Anyting try test, mi will lick down |
One bar, everyting get spin round |
Tell a dibby MC «sit down» |
Man come try ring off the big pound |
I mean trey pound |
I squeeze off, I’ll make ten niggas lay down |
Yeah, and they’re going to stay down |
I’m a big man who they can’t play round |
They can’t fuck round, when I touch down |
Everything dead with the lead, mi ah run down |
Shot inna head, dem dead by sundown |
'Cause I’m a real gun man, you’re a gun clown |
I leave everybody dead with one round, one clip |
Can’t come tell me nuttin' 'bout the gun 'ting, I does this |
In beef, pack more than one clip |
And I’m on a soundclash ting 'cause I run this |
And I got lyrics and shells in abundance |
I run the circumference |
Let me break that down for you dunces |
Basically I’m no clown, I’m a dumpers |
I put holes and rounds inna jumpers |
And I’m on point like a rasclart compass |
And I don’t believe a word you say |
'Cause I know that you man are fronters |
Hol' on a-yout |
Hol' on a-man |
Rise up mi hand from dem |
Hol' on a-yout |
Hol' on a-man |
Draw for mi gun when mi |
Hol' on a-yout |
Hol' on a-man |
If a bwoy wan' disrespeck di programme |
Hol' on a-yout |
Hol' on a-man |
You know that was bang out of order |
Crossed the line, now you’ve crossed the border |
You just turned the wrong corner |
You could have had Wen play your corner |