I don't know what they call bars But they don't sound like ours I don't know what they call bars But they don't sound like ours I don't know what he call bars But they don't sound like ours I don't know what they call bars... Try step You're full of bull, I'm a bull get a horn through the bicep Wanna be a matador Get splattered more than your girlfriends tits, fried eggs Tellin me one creepin' and crawlin' around That I'm Peter Parker with nine legs Look down on you all from the shard You ain't got the balls to climb up my higher fence Let's have it right, let's have it right When me and Syanide are grabbing mics He don't get close to the dagenham-ites Who's gonna tell me shit about braggin' rights Nobody here I'm aware of, please let me know if you hear what Anyone Mr. Limb won't take care of before they get aired off Like the radio died They came back on When me and Jimmy be singing the sick patterns Skills leave your limbs and shit scattered Ill like I'm on pills - you get battered Real lyrical skills mic jackers Still keeping it real - it don't matter The chill that leave steel bones shatters Kneel down in a field you lil slappers And it takes some dick, you little bait flow bitch Me and Devlin are sicker than the six of the sickest spitters in this Write me a list - I be wipin' my arse with the names that you writ It's a myth, when you come try twist with the twisted I'm leavin' MC's in the bits You were like zombies up against what I don't know what they call bars But they don't sound like ours (They don't sound like ours) I don't know what they call lyrics But they just sound like gimmicks (sound like gimmicks) I don't know what they call rhymes But they don't sound like mine (They don't sound like mine) I don't know what you call flows (what?) I just don't know I don't know what they call bars But they don't sound like ours (They don't sound like ours) I don't know what they call lyrics But they just sound like gimmicks (sound like gimmicks) I don't know what they call rhymes But they don't sound like mine (They don't sound like mine) I don't know what you call flows (what?) I just don't know Shuttin' everybody down when I come around Give them all the run around when I run 'em out I'm silly with the syllables, some say I'm lyrical I don't give a shit no more, I'm just down The residual overly-critical way I had a nose that there is no miracles In a land where man must forever talk Be king of the jungle or dead at dawn No man's land, no badman but I will put up at night and attack man If I have to I'll hide in a trash can All night 'til I finally catch man No trash talk Don't be rash walk and never turn around Put [?] on a beat, it's a dirty sound I'm taking it back, right back to that mad fool When we came in swinging Hack from the beginning I've been killin' the riddims And we don't need no bringing The circles I'm in is full workers grinnin' Spring in my step, when I step, my circles winnin' And that I murk with a purpose that makes observers listen, they're surplus spitters Whose [?] to this shit?, I can't see anybody here Plus I'm holding the levels like me and the devil two fucking rebels that leave 'em unsettled I swear And now they wanna try wrestle, I leave 'em disheveled They ever try meddle up in my affairs I'm vettel, fuck levels, I'll never be settled, try step and get leveled Syanide and Devils I don't know what they call bars But they don't sound like ours (They don't sound like ours) I don't know what they call lyrics But they just sound like gimmicks (sound like gimmicks) I don't know what they call rhymes But they don't sound like mine (They don't sound like mine) I don't know what you call flows (what?) I just don't know (I just don't know) I don't know what they call bars But they don't sound like ours (They don't sound like ours) I don't know what they call lyrics But they just sound like gimmicks (sound like gimmicks) I don't know what they call rhymes But they don't sound like mine (They don't sound like mine) I don't know what you call flows (what?) I just don't know (I just don't know)