Forgot About Dre Freestyle

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Akala] Yo, Fire in the Booth Cypher, listen Uh, Akala Forget about walkin' in 'em You couldn't put my shoes on You ain't smart enough for me to wanna hear your views on Freestyle, written or a new song If I wanted bullshit, woulda just turned the news on Man are fake as Jamaica's independence I spit one sentence, put the Devil in repentance 'Cause the flow's that vicious Snitches, dumber than white people tryna call themselves niggas Pigs kill our kids, you ain't seen Love hip hop, don't know what hip hop means Are you lean? Are you lean? From the green, from the green Never been signed but I've been the best in the scene From when there was a platform, Fire in the Booth For rappers to be judged how they actually rap Who came top of the pack, it's a fact I didn't have to pretend that I do sell crack We all got dawgs that'll bust their strap But I'm so old school, so down for a scrap Your favourite rapper could get the Muay Thai elbow Straight in his head top, sure you could tell though I'm off 'round the world to lecture A bag of universities, what did he say? And I never finished college, let alone uni I'm living proof that intelligence pays That is not a metaphor, I meant that literally My itinerary, swing by Italy So we can all floss, we can all boss Who runs companies, who does not? Never sold my soul, but we all got flows And we all got shows, and we all got... Matter of fact, we ain't all got flows If they said you could rap, that was too much crow Well I got more rhymes than the Chinese got dollars You won't get that line 'cause you're not scholars So which MC could touch mine? Who done off the EDL guy with one line? Look, bruv, we are not niggas Like I did, you need a minute to go figure So the meantime, I will deliver a little vigour From the tongue trigger that will still a dum-dum spitter [?] And then you realise your country's run by many similar You're little mimickers, my miniatures You might score but you got no skill, Lineker Sure I'll finish ya, vivider than a cinema The way I paint a picture with words, it should be criminal Who told you it's hard, it isn't, it's easy As bullshittin' to politicians I'm a man on a mission, with a plan and a vision I'd be damned if I didn't, so I abandon resistance H•A•M with the lyrics and I standardly kill it Leave it lookin' like tryna get a tan when you're British Told 'em all All these little MCs, who do you think helped mould them all? Now everybody want to be independent 10 years ago, didn't I show them all? [Verse 2: Bella Gotti (No-Lay)] Niggas looking at me like I snatched their bladder 'Cause 24-7 I be takin' the piss If the watch don't come off then I'm takin' your wrist Put the white on scales like it snowed on a fish Bitch, do you not know who it is? Isabella Gotti, but you can call me miss Big hips so I can't find jeans that I fit You don't like my shit, go and sit on the stick Money, money, money, money, money That's all I wanna talk about Money, money, money I blew the safe, then I hopped in And my eyes went a different colour like Hopsin My punchlines like cocaine boxing I got so many bars around me like I'm locked in You niggas wish you were time travellers So you can go back and murder me before I realised I could kill a million guys, that got a million rhymes, with one fuckin' line Money in my rucksack, money on my spine Mummy I'll be fine, I'm about this life Only God knows why And my dogs know I am about this rhyme My brain evicted me, I'm out of my mind So keep me off your tongue, and out of your mouth I put your man on smash, he put his head down south [Verse 3: SafOne] Yo, Ps for the weed, bring it out Phones off, clingers out Mandem on it, on road flinging out Left jab, right hook, if you wanna swing it out Like eff your shoe box, fam, manna fill it out Your months wage, mandem'll bring it out Buy champagne and start spillin' out My birthday, man coulda bought a house But eff that I'm still in my yard sittin' down Thinkin' how am I dawg, sittin' down? Thinkin' how are my dawgs in the ground? Thinkin' how is my arse still around? But I'm outchea, still talk of the town Raw, nah I don't water it down And I don't wanna hear no talk about war Cuh I'm still walkin' around 'Low that, dangers, bring it out Mask and gloves, bring 'em out Swear, manna been doin' this ting So it's rare that you're gonna see a man spin it out Never that, bit of brake, yeah down, fling it out Look what's roundabout, skid it round Man I'm ocean, probably bumpin' Drake's new ting Real man, rollin' out [Deadly] Yo, bring 'em out, bring 'em out Look who's fully eating dinner now Don't chat to me 'bout iTunes I'm like CDs man, fling em out, fling 'em out Concerts man, fill 'em out, fill 'em out We bring 'em out every time we been around We lookin' over the grime scene grinnin' out Makin' man know, listen Yo, who said I would get left in the dark I'm back with a vengeance like rah Turn up to get entrance and bark Then you will hear engines and cars Might see you main man slumped out like rah Dead, you're gone too far I will push back, we go trip, then laugh Man chat shit, hold dick from shaft Run this ting, don't think it's talk Deadly will wait till dark, me you and strap can link in park Minutes to midnight, blinkin' sparks You'll not turn up, if you're thinkin' smart You'll be sprintin' fast Stay blacked out like...​ Listen, there's levels [Verse 4: Stormzy] Man try flex, man got me movin' like Ghetts Like d-d-dead him on sight, yeah dem man clap They're doin' better in the trap But we're doin' better in life, so fuck your raps Kick off the door from the latch Like it's easy to get up inside Swear man, you old MCs need to leave it alone Cuh you're not gettin' better with time Leave it to us, go look after your kids I'll take over from... Yo, yo, listen From the top, from the top Fire in the Booth Cypher Myself Stormzy Everyone inside Yo, just warming up Check it, look Man try flex, man got me movin' like Ghetts Like d-d-dead him on sight, yeah dem man clap They're doin' better in the trap But we're doin' better in life, so fuck your raps Kick off the door from the latch Like it's easy to get up inside Swear man, you old MCs need to leave it alone Cuh you're not gettin' better with time So leave it to us, go look after your kids I'll take over from here I made more movements than half of these pricks And it didn't even take me a year But a man try tell me to suck my mum I said "Wait brutha, suck my who?" Can't take big Mike for some any old prick Don't ask why I touched that yute, but Anyway back to the rap ish I brought dark skin back for the black kids Big man like you gettin' catfished One take for the verse and the ad-libs Yeah, I used to be on the roads Times I would freeze in the cold just to wait at the bus stop So next time you talk about Skepta, Giggs or Wretch, don't forget about us lot, word Wait, nah, but I didn't really die though This a part of the game, ideas all up in my brain like I walk with a light bulb Man I came back with a flame And a pendant wrapped on my chain And a beat on my iPhone, somebody passin' the game List of the grime scene names Do this with a blindfold, brutha it's easy Huh, what you gonna try tell me? Shit, I went back to the mountains Look, and came back lookin' healthy Fuck, man I'm sick in my head Nobody can't help me The love that you get for your songs Shit, I get that for a selfie Lord help me Man are outrageous, somebody stop them Needed a favour, tell 'em I got them Bun all the haters, I do not watch them I am the saviour, I am the problem What you gonna chat 'bout now? What you brothers gonna rap 'bout now? When you gonna stop bitin' my flow? Why you brothers gotta cat my style? Man I... Oi fuck this [Verse 5: P Money] I've had enough of your lyrics, all of your gimmicks Your flows sound tortured and timid I got the game in the barrel 'cause I be aiming to kill it Cover you quickly like what I spray is acrylic Boom bang, both of you dazed in a minute Lame and you mimic You're rhymin' out of time in your lyrics Dead or alive, I don't know, you decide when I'm finished You rate real, this a Type R, according to Civic So you all thought, actin' like you wanted to give it Give me the riddem, I rip it, and tell my enemies stick it I be playin' it smooth, and they be playin' it rigid Ballin' out on my own, now they wanted to kick it Showin' everybody flows, then they wishin' they bit it Took a leap of faith, now you can tell when I ribbit Boom, feelin' like a body shot when I rib it They're all talking the talk, but not one of them live it Flowin' it fast, you're about to go in a trance Feelin' like a phone bill when I run up a charge See I call the ambulance, got a couple man asking [?] Kinda class doesn't really come in a school, it comes in a car Babe come in the car Next minute, ahh, I made her cum in the car Downin' that strong drink that don't come in the glass Tell 'em it's all goin' down when I'm up in the dance She's lovin' the bars, the beats, says she's lovin' the cars She give me a chance, you're not even given a pass So give it to me, 'cause never do I muck up a task So give it to me, why? 'Cause I'm one of the stars Give it to me, why? 'Cause I'm one of the stars Give it to me, why? 'Cause I'm one of the stars And when I drop my tune they be like "Mother rah" [Ghetts] Back to back, I'm back to that With a hat back and a MAC in lap This is head top Which one of these MCs should I head top? Forehead, red dot Soldier, 21 gun salute At least you got a bad boy send off Analyse the game, see where they went wrong So I got it covered, any angle they send from Flows, where'd ya get them from? Bars, where'd ya get them from? Where the fuck's the respect gone? I'd slap man out your sleep if I'm slept on I'm on a level that they ain't ever stepped on This is Ghetto, not Ghetts, dog Speak up, where's ya chest gone A lot of war, I'm in my heart and my chest strong I'm on my Jack Jones, and I feel like I'm ten strong School more MCs than St Bon's Ay, look, look [Verse 6: Mic Righteous] I only deal with certain people I only deal with certain people I only deal with certain people, people know People know I'm from the coast and I give my people hope From feeling broke, but other people seem to joke 'Cause people's minds are smaller than their balls are so they need to boast I don't think people know the suffering my people go through I don't think you people would believe me even if I showed you If I showed you, if I showed you even though you felt some pain Ain't to say there ain't no one out there that ain't felt the same But fuck certain people, we don't work with egos, every person's equal And fuck certain people when they say they love you but they turn and leave you And fuck 'the world is evil, every man for theirself', I wanna help the people These fat cats wanna kill the people Steal from people, look at what they sell to people Same old tricks and they still deceive you It's hell for people, but I fail to free you But we just as fucked, what the hell can we do? Be selfish, dude that ain't healthy I be tryna live healthy, watch my well-being You wanna be like the wealthy people Those Made in Chelsea people Let hell freeze Oh please, no fees for selfies, no self esteem You still self loathe, self harm, watch yourself bleed Been there myself, no self belief There ain't nothin' you can tell me, people Got people I'm cool with, people I went school with People that are bringing the tool if I call 'em Some be in England, some be in Scotland My peeps are my people Check this No eyes shut this time Know my shit fucked and I might just light this blunt Turn a festival to a fighting club The best of all time, you ain't frightening us Fat fuck, you ain't dieting much Rap tough, you ain't writing much Ah fuck, now look at what I've become And I just begun, retire your mum I give an MC ten seconds to run like ten ni- fuck 5, 4, 1, click clack clow Sit back down, Alan Sugar ain't firing fuck I'ma just sit there and smile while you slimy fucks eat off my plate This ain't Come Dine With Me, blud Rope round your feet wrapped round to a tree Rope round your neck and it's tied to a truck, and the driver is drunk You can hear the engine firing up Wheels spinning quicker than a vinyl spun by Preemo And you can see your spinal tear Am I all there? No So you can spare me your final prayers, bro Fuckin' this game, stickin' my dick in its ear hole We weirdos, we heroes but we here, ho