Lyrics

Your whole fam are fayries Know damn well your man are wary See my clan are heavy Come clapping through Canonbury, make your manor scary Fuck rap you brang it to rare beef Man like me ain't no back packing adversary You skinny arse middle class fassy Bring it to Words' get found dead Whole crew's looking like brown heads Bet you wish you never run your mouth now Chess' What you're still vex mans got boyd up in South West? Slap your girls mouth yes? You're lucky man didn''t drag her down the steps, take her out her dress Run drain blood running down her legs I'm out for my Pound in flesh In Brighton you got brave saying Northern London town's best It ain't about the endz bitch You're bluffing P Tryna chuck it every six seconds, your brother spuddin me Acting shook backstage, can't even stand near me I understand clearly it's the "Weaker Man Theory" That same night when you was bowlin in drainpipes Tighter than the Lycra them guys are sporting on race bikes Jabbering jaws, close to getting your face sliced Bottled and battered left scattered around the wayside You undercover faggot, strutting your stuff at gay pride I'm not the playing games type Relax a minute, take five Nah blud I'm truly vicious Mans tap metal shooters to tear through you, Farma, Louis Slipperz Fuck with 'Smith, little bitches Subliminal disses, too big for your britches Might end up riddled with stitches Them guys are puss', all chi-chi and acting stoosh Lips are flapping, clips I'm packing be hacking Hackenbush Faggot pushed me too far, listen star, your "Fugs R Us" Run through Kung Fu, bust two buckies, dust Get your bubbles bruck I'm remembering everything ou enviously mentioned then I'm resembling Eminem? It's laughable So tell me who do you resemble then? Anorexic addicts in the street Big Issue vendering Was trembling when I performed "In This For Life" Got jealous your girl was clocking, should've fingered your wife I want you to battle back so I can come and smack your lacking act And for blam up any fassy damaging my habitat I bang the cannon, have him scatter like an alley rat Swagger like you're badder, facts are patchy like a tabby cat "Who the fuck is that?" - don't know about my skills bruh Crush your dumb fam like a hundred fans at Hillsborough Feel the confidence to trade vowels and consonants I pound incompetents, doubt you know about the consequence I season beats, spout condiments Flavours in the air made to hear around the sphere, about the continents And when I spit I'm premiership, you're Vauxhall Conference About to dead your whole clique with nonchalance