| But like, obviously like
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| When man would do the marjay and that
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| Like, d’you get me? |
| Like (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
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| So no disrespect, yeah?
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| No disrespect bruv
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| Your mum’s a dickhead blud
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| Dickhead
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| Dickhead blud
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| Ask your mum where she knows me from
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| Broski I’m the coldest don
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| Where was you when you wrote this song?
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| You was looking for a motive don
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| I’ve done more for you than your dad has
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| You didn’t chief my dad so don’t backtrack
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| My little bro shouldn’t have sent and that’s facts
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| But now it’s me you gotta face
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| Mike, you ain’t slapping anybody in the face
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| I will spray up your house and be proud
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| Whole street lookin' 'cause the shots dem are loud
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| Tell all your mandem better sit back down
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| 'Cause this MAC-10 ain’t got a friend in town
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| Kick all the doors off, even your mum’s one
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| Hold on, you and your mum owe me a lump sum
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| Hold on, you and your mum should come see me
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| Bring a suitcase of money cah it’s like you wanna be me
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| Dead, all informer fi dead
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| You’re caught up in a circle of bread
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| If I see your mum down Croydon market
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| I’m gonna rip that weave off her head, dead
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| Man can’t bully my dad
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| If they ever try a ting like that, dem man dead
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| They’ve all tried killing me dad, I ain’t dead
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| Rasta, ballhead, skinhead and dread (Yep), 'nuff said
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| But you can’t get your new gyal out of your head
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| Heard she’s a goer from the likkle mandem
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| That’s something that I shouldn’t have said
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| It’s not my business in fact
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| You gotta keep your image intact
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| This is grime, this ain’t rap
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| Come and get your boy off the ropes, no cap
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| Me, the career resurrector
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| You wouldn’t be nothing without Skepta
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| The 'Wiley Flow' was just a par but
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| Revenge is sweet just like nectar
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| I’m Achilles, you’re Hector
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| I could win it both ways, G, I bet ya
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| I’m outside, ready for the outside
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| Sayin' «Wheel it up, my selecta»
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| Bro called me, took him a brick
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| He said, «Clash Stormzy? |
| Wot’s all this?»
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| I said, «With Big Mike? |
| It shouldn’t be this
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| But, without us, he wouldn’t exist»
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| That remix was taking the piss
|
| All dem man, they was taking the piss
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| Next time, none of you are faking the mix
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| You ain’t from the village, you’re a fake in the bits
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| Delightful, go beat your jaws on your tour but
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| Michael, Maya’s not yours anymore
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| You’re not on the dance floor anymore
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| I’m somebody that you can’t ignore anymore
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| Club night, bring 24 in, raving in foreign
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| Your mandem ain’t sure anymore
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| This is grime, my bruv, it’s not four to the floor
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| All my war dubs, dem are awkward and more
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| You don’t wanna see me get crazy, Mike
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| My mind works well, it’s not lazy, Mike
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| Everybody thinks that grime is neeky
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| Til man rise the ting like Crazy Mike
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| I ain’t chattin' for the fun it’s not Laser, Mike
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| Better sit down 'bout you wanna raise it, Mike
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| So many people try to flex
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| You can’t bring Ed round 'ere, save it Mike
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| I said this ting ain’t really meant for you
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| I dunno why ain’t nobody sent for you
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| You owe the dons that put you on
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| I swear they should be collecting rent from you
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| My brudda, some of us, we can’t be controlled
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| I laid foundation for the keys you hold
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| If you don’t stop moving funny around us
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| I’ll change the locks, now your keys are old
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| If it’s urban, it’s all mine, shut up
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| Can’t tell me nothing 'cause I came from the gutter
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| Before you was trying to bread and come across like a nutter
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| Now you’ve gone soft like butter
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| It’s a shame, me and you are friend but you wanna move lame
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| Two two’s you know we ain’t the same
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| I run the show, yes, I run the game
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| Get out my way, ay |