(WhyJay on the buttons once again, you know what the fuck it is) (Oi-oi L Star, L Star, L Star absolute badman ting rude boy) When I spray that skippy, man come through militant Blacked out on a ride out, move diligent Clapped out on a grime sound, mans killing em' Pussyole sounding oh so innocent Old school flows, man are bap-bap- drilling em' Your EP's, man are black bag binning em' My EP's coming one in a million DJ's pulling up decks and spinning em' Skippy flow man I come like double Dutch 24/7 I'm first in the race and I ain't ever heard of a thing called runners-up Man I just double clutch, light up the track Then glide round the back, see gang in the shubs with the guys in the black, that's facts And them man chat about backs and straps But wagwarn when you get napped, it's daft Bars come dutty, gyaldem wanna try giver man ucky Light up the mice cah' I'm spitting out flames I've got bars for days and the flows too mucky Man do nuttin' but duppy Bark like a big dog, them man are puppy One man said that I'm overrated But my mans lyric books looking all dusty Yeah-yeah-yeah Bap-bap drill it, I'm back to basics Yeah-yeah-yeah Far from finished, I could bar for ages Yeah-yeah-yeah Spin man in a minute, get parred with the phrases Yeah-yeah-yeah I've got lyrics, put man in their places What, man can't chat about Aitch ain't cold Is he daft? I've got flows that are sickening Watch next time I jump on a set I might drink too much and start ripping him And if I send lyrical shots at a man Then I swear to god I'm not missing him You can catch L's on L's cause' when I touch mic No messing, I'll be straight up blitzing him Like fuck off, quick armbar, mans elbow bruck off A-I-T-C-H on the mic, at the top of this ting and I won't get took off Man best know if we're talking flows then dun' know I got the coldest one Don't get me wrong, I've got bare new lyrics But I still get a pull up on the oldest one Cause I'm going on stone cold, lyrical Steve Austin Don't give a fuck about a shank, you'll get boxed in My man couldn't stand up when I rocked him I go hard on the mic but all these other man are on some flop ting I could make grimey bangers for time Then switch it up and go mad on a pop ting Intelligent rhymes, I'm leathering guys Last year man said I'd get better in time, now I'm heavy on grime Not saying I'm the best but in Manny's Top 5 Put me on the relevant side, get peppered on mic Man come like Tekken on site In a clash my opponent better think twice And if he's thinking straight Then he should know that I'm gonna rinse him mate Touch mic and leave him in a victim state Bare man like "Rah you just ripped him Aitch" But I don't give a shit, I'm a prick on stage I just think of a lyric and spray one Hold tight my g's dem' Arbee and A1 How can man even talk to the feds I won't snitch on my bros [?] Yeah-yeah-yeah Bap-bap drill it, I'm back to basics Yeah-yeah-yeah Far from finished, I could bar for ages Yeah-yeah-yeah Spin man in a minute, get parred with the phrases Yeah-yeah-yeah I've got lyrics, put man in their places