| Free my mumzy, what’s that about?
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| Oi Chewbacca, what you chatting 'bout?
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| Come and see my vibes, there’s no crack about
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| I get the riddim, hit the booth, then I crack 'em out
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| Manna got the BFG tapping out
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| Ding, ding, round 3
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| Let me catch 'em out
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| I see your pop fans think that I’m backing out
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| I get the whip that I want, then I black it out
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| Don’t hype, don’t care what you like
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| Tell me what you don’t like, man do it more
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| You weren’t on the roads when Dizzee made «I Luv U»
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| Back then, you must’ve been about 4
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| Heads in your clouds, got my feet on the floor
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| I’m helping you now sell tickets for the tour
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| We all wanna be the rich black kid
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| Until we go pop, then the pop drops us on the floor
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| Now hold on bro, let me say this
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| Nobody cares if you got all your songs on the playlist
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| The music’s shit, we don’t play this
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| You ran into drill, you can’t face this
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| I told you «suck your mum» because I’m tasteless
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| You can fight for words and get hurt
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| Every single man who defends their mum gets murked
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| Eediat, I know the 3 words hurt
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| I set the time limits, kill you with grime lyrics
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| Won’t draw for the Headie One, they ain’t my lyrics
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| Said the Kano ting was quite cool
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| but, you ain’t ever written any dying to survive lyrics
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| I’ve been killing you in the game with all my lyrics
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| Got the bullet bars
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| I ain’t trying lyrics
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| Fire lyrics
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| Can’t retire lyrics
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| Got the 'Claren on the roads, black tyre lyrics
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| Come alive when its drama
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| Jump at a man and disarm yah
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| Ed got you in the room with Jay Z
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| But you came back with that bullshit after
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| Dun I said, take who back to where?
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| Because this whole campaign, I see is air
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| We don’t really like it, but we gotta care
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| It’s Stormzy, no, that’s when the weather gets stormy
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| About slap? |
| You must be mad
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| Gotta murk any soundboy, you know like that
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| But you man are acting on tracks
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| My mum’s in London, that’s facts
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| I ain’t gotta go and get her back
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| Mikey, I don’t smoke crack
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| You got all this Adidas stuff but Mike, you make it look crap
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| Yo, you ain’t had a real battle
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| Yeah, it’s your first one
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| I’ma dad and I murk, that’s how I teach son
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| Feat. |
| one, teach one, and I could reach one
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| We get results like you, and that’s a peak one
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| I’ma straight from the street one
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| Man know a real one broski, anywhere I meet one
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| I’ma share some money, I’ma keep some
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| I’m a strong one brudda, not a weak one
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| Got you sweating like a pig
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| You don’t like when I start snatching off weaves and wigs
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| Got the weed in your hand
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| Last time I saw you blud, you weren’t blazing shit
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| Don’t front, it’s an act
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| Before the weed you’re smoking puts you on your back
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| BFG and the GOG got the whole world looking at a grime class act
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| Like, respect my pen
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| Bars in your face like pen
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| Box in your face like ken
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| From way back when I been a madman chatting 'bout way back when
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| So, respect my pen
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| Bars in your face like pen
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| Box in your face like ken
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| From way back when I been a madman chatting 'bout way back
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| More action, they love all that
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| Man get rich, think they’re above all that
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| And when the system switch, you come running back
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| I’m gonna score touchdowns whether you play me QB, wide receiver or running back
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| Been away for a minute, but I’m coming back
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| And I know yous love the charts, but I dun all that
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| Now I’m back on the street, they know I run all that
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| Blud
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| Like Rick Bobby, what about nine bar Bobby?
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| Flower pot men like Billy and Bobby
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| I’m a builder, just like Bob
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| Bob
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| Like Rick Bobby, what about nine bar Bobby?
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| Flower pot men like Billy and Bobby
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| I’m a builder, just like Bob |