Lyrics

[Verse] The hardest in the game is me Disagree then say what you gotta say to me I'm on top of my game, I'll show you how to get from A to B And how to get to a kilo from an eighth of each Hit the block and get paid I pay just a little one and fifteen for the brick Hit the motorway and threw some B on that strip Dark tints and some nineteens on the whip No hard ash, nice weed in the spliff And I'm the best rapper in North Come see me if you want cause I'm backing my talks Take my advice cuz, roll with your strap when you walk Ain't nuttin nice cuz, you can get clapped for your thoughts I'm on the grind cuz, tryna make a mill outta nuttin Food or music, I'ma make a mill outta suttin It's drought season cuz, I had to fuck the soldier off I rolled up my sleeve then brushed my shoulders off These pricks think they're hard but I know they're soft The street life's got me investing in pistols If it's beef, please believe I'm addressing the issue And if I roll up and spark, I'ma definitely hit you Top three UK rappers, yeah it's official Who's better than me, you crazy? Maleek, Mike GLC, maybe I spit it for the streets, it's the streets that made me They hear the new Joe Black, the streets go crazy He's on a mad one again, he's so shady I'm too much like track three, Return of The King Step in the booth with me, third degree burns to your skin I'm going hard cuz, watch how I murder this ting I'm sending multiple tracks to the morgue, I keep killing them Yeah I'm on the grind, cunch lines I keep billing them Your favourite rapper, I'm twice as real as them And I'm on the roads cuz, of course I grind I also made it well known that North is mine I'm Barack Obama of Islington, I'm the president They love me in the flats from Bizzy Block to Benetton They love my tracks down in Shank Town, what's good Edmonton? East man love me too, they know who I'm realer than And they even like me in cunch From Bristol to Birmingham, I got a nice little buzz I still gotta go and link fiends, supply 'em the grub I move CD's but that ain't supplying enough for my pocket I'd rather flip a two and a Q, double my profit I got a Master's degree in hustlenomics The food that I got, your customers want it Cause the food that you got make your customers vomit I got the pure shit, connect speaks no English like a tourist I stay on my North shit