Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Eediyat Skengman 2 (Stormzy Send) , by - Wiley. Release date: 06.01.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Eediyat Skengman 2 (Stormzy Send) |
| But like, obviously like |
| When man would do the marjay and that |
| Like, d’you get me? |
| Like (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) |
| So no disrespect, yeah? |
| No disrespect bruv |
| Your mum’s a dickhead blud |
| Dickhead |
| Dickhead blud |
| Ask your mum where she knows me from |
| Broski I’m the coldest don |
| Where was you when you wrote this song? |
| You was looking for a motive don |
| I’ve done more for you than your dad has |
| You didn’t chief my dad so don’t backtrack |
| My little bro shouldn’t have sent and that’s facts |
| But now it’s me you gotta face |
| Mike, you ain’t slapping anybody in the face |
| I will spray up your house and be proud |
| Whole street lookin' 'cause the shots dem are loud |
| Tell all your mandem better sit back down |
| 'Cause this MAC-10 ain’t got a friend in town |
| Kick all the doors off, even your mum’s one |
| Hold on, you and your mum owe me a lump sum |
| Hold on, you and your mum should come see me |
| Bring a suitcase of money cah it’s like you wanna be me |
| Dead, all informer fi dead |
| You’re caught up in a circle of bread |
| If I see your mum down Croydon market |
| I’m gonna rip that weave off her head, dead |
| Man can’t bully my dad |
| If they ever try a ting like that, dem man dead |
| They’ve all tried killing me dad, I ain’t dead |
| Rasta, ballhead, skinhead and dread (Yep), 'nuff said |
| But you can’t get your new gyal out of your head |
| Heard she’s a goer from the likkle mandem |
| That’s something that I shouldn’t have said |
| It’s not my business in fact |
| You gotta keep your image intact |
| This is grime, this ain’t rap |
| Come and get your boy off the ropes, no cap |
| Me, the career resurrector |
| You wouldn’t be nothing without Skepta |
| The 'Wiley Flow' was just a par but |
| Revenge is sweet just like nectar |
| I’m Achilles, you’re Hector |
| I could win it both ways, G, I bet ya |
| I’m outside, ready for the outside |
| Sayin' «Wheel it up, my selecta» |
| Bro called me, took him a brick |
| He said, «Clash Stormzy? |
| Wot’s all this?» |
| I said, «With Big Mike? |
| It shouldn’t be this |
| But, without us, he wouldn’t exist» |
| That remix was taking the piss |
| All dem man, they was taking the piss |
| Next time, none of you are faking the mix |
| You ain’t from the village, you’re a fake in the bits |
| Delightful, go beat your jaws on your tour but |
| Michael, Maya’s not yours anymore |
| You’re not on the dance floor anymore |
| I’m somebody that you can’t ignore anymore |
| Club night, bring 24 in, raving in foreign |
| Your mandem ain’t sure anymore |
| This is grime, my bruv, it’s not four to the floor |
| All my war dubs, dem are awkward and more |
| You don’t wanna see me get crazy, Mike |
| My mind works well, it’s not lazy, Mike |
| Everybody thinks that grime is neeky |
| Til man rise the ting like Crazy Mike |
| I ain’t chattin' for the fun it’s not Laser, Mike |
| Better sit down 'bout you wanna raise it, Mike |
| So many people try to flex |
| You can’t bring Ed round 'ere, save it Mike |
| I said this ting ain’t really meant for you |
| I dunno why ain’t nobody sent for you |
| You owe the dons that put you on |
| I swear they should be collecting rent from you |
| My brudda, some of us, we can’t be controlled |
| I laid foundation for the keys you hold |
| If you don’t stop moving funny around us |
| I’ll change the locks, now your keys are old |
| If it’s urban, it’s all mine, shut up |
| Can’t tell me nothing 'cause I came from the gutter |
| Before you was trying to bread and come across like a nutter |
| Now you’ve gone soft like butter |
| It’s a shame, me and you are friend but you wanna move lame |
| Two two’s you know we ain’t the same |
| I run the show, yes, I run the game |
| Get out my way, ay |