Grime-a-Side 2016 Quarter Final: London vs. Leeds

Lyrics

First Half [Intro: Paddy] Look [Verse 1: Paddy] Why you acting rude? Acting like you got something to prove You got ties in the end, I been cutting them loose First ever clash I was boss in a suit But check one, check two Back in the booth Badmind me? Nah, I'm not in the mood Stating facts, nothing to lose Speak to the streets and guide the youth, look I don't care if you're bursting iron We love the jungle deep, we're lions I met truth, I met liars I met real badman, I met criers You're not bad 'cause your name's on flyers Ends are riddled with drugs and buyers Witness murders, creating riots Parents moaning, their children dying [Verse 2: Saint P] You must have meant sex in the soil When you said that you done dirt Your girl says I'm a little childish, calls me a cunt But it's all fun, make sure that I beat her cunt first He said, she saids, fuck that, bun you, bun her Kill 'em with one verse, I dun her My nice browning with a bumper Thought she could handle the heat, now she's sunburnt Your girl's got a good body But if she don't tick all of my boxes, I don't even want her So don't watch me, that's not your concern Said you're gonna gun buck me, when you bucked me You were just stuttering, "um, er, um, er, um, er" You don't back beef, you bun first No CDs, blank sheets, you ain't done work Clap like thunder inside man's [?] [Verse 3: Angry] Yo, real life, my brudda Could get cut with a knife, my brudda Fuck that, man can't diss my brudda Fuck that, man can't diss my mudda Man like Angry, I don't move shooker Death round the corner, life get tooken Twos in the booker, sick little fucker This little man's still wiving hookers When I didn't have a pound to my name Still smack gyal that are overly [?] Land on sets, it's more than gully And man need more than money But I still need more, more money You seem them honeys? Overly slutty She thinks I'm piff She thinks I'm (ooh) And the [?] [Verse 4: PK] Okay, so you wanna test the 'Bré Man get left in a fucked up way Chalk line ting like Merky ACE Yuck, yuck, mud in the face Man wanna war me? World War 3 Better pray to God that something stops me Mind out 'fore your face get ugly Ting in the pouch, yeah, man are jumpy On the roads from '06, man ah know me Pagan King on the roads, don't sleep Little PK's been about from way back When I used to wake up bare early To watch the TV Fuck that, now man are going on greaze Kill an MC for the Ps, it's easy for me Guarantee man are gonna D-I-E, E [Verse 5: Dialect] Right, how many more times can it be wartime? It's alright 'cause I'm on this all night I was given this gift, foresight That ting and this spliff, all spice Fuck around, get Bruce like Foresyth Full of raw lines, eight balls when you snort white Red Bull just gave me the fall guy Should've given man MIST, he's more grime I'm from the North side, yeah I rep for them Gave me London, I ain't impressed with them You man are showing age like testament But still in a rave, getting waved like Mexicans What'd you know about Grime-A-Side? I'm the guy that clashed with Elijah Eyez Kept Grime alive, still got a 9-to-5 Don't come around here, try rhyme with Di [Verse 6: AJ Tracey] I thought that he came with the bars but he never Big impact like Ross or Heather Man mind out when I'm strapped with the leather Told man already that we've got the pumpy Dump it, niggas'll fly like feather Mandem think that I just turned bad I was bad from when I chilled by Mo Better Strap put man in a peak dilemma Don't bell man off of unknown, bredda White and bold, six feet in the North Face Gym shoes? Nah, have you lost your cheddar? You're not bad, bad yout? Never West Indies strap, hold bare pepper True Religions and a Polish pistol Skengman dance, I'm a real hotstepper Second Half [Verse 7: Paddy] He's not a badman, neither are you Stop with the lies and stick to the truth Compose yourself, you're talking loose Semtex bars, I'm strapped with a boom Tiocfaidh ár lá, they don't have a clue I'm a rebel inside and out of the booth I was built for this, I can't lose You ain't got half the heart, you'll get moved Put in your place if you wanna get rude You're only known in your ends as a dude I'm doing fine, been doing grime I make joy in the fruits of life They could never try take what's mine Leave them shook like a deer in lights Deeper than hearts on sleeves and pride Body get taken out with the tide [Verse 8: Saint P] Listen, I'm Sai-de-de-de-daint-de-daint-de-daint Yeah, I've got pattern My one's the first and my one's the classic I don't wanna hear no bars about stars These man are not blessed in ends and that's tragic I ain't gotta gas it You'll hold a box like a package If you chat shit, boom, on automatic mode I make you panic and sweat Better pray you're my brudda Like I got a bally and dreads You ain't got heart, I know you're gonna panic When you're in beef, how comes you don't back it? You're a likkle side dish, you're a likkle coleslaw You're a likkle salad I just want peas, bread, cheese and carrots, yeah That's my kind of a sandwich That's my kind of a- [Verse 9: Angry] Yo, you ain't got one chance to win Pack you in, after the clash, catch you in The drinking area, glass your chin Now this ain't gonna be no clash with him Game over, I'ma take you out the ring Your gyal's down for a ting, she got down on my ting You ain't down for shit You're on a sadman ting, and you sound like him You're a pussy, don't try jump on the mic You're a pussy, don't try jump on the hype I'll actually murk this guy You sound weird with them virgin rhymes I bet you're one of them virgin guys Get murked on site, best turn to the light Catch your soul before it takes flight 'Cuh man just took him out of his shoes [Verse 10: PK] Yo, I got a million ways to kill you, choose one Come on the mic, you'll get bun Cooked like a hot croissant from France I spray my bars to lick down the dance real fast Fast like racing cars And in my bars, I've got the answer Trust me fam, I've got the secret To make the sound work on a track or the tune I spray my bars I murk Yuck, I am the teacher They wanna know how I swerve on the riddim and serve You need to practice, you need to learn Come against me, best do your research Or get left on the dirt October the 18th, trust me, fam Yeah, man have been a dan from early Yeah, man have been a dan from birth [Verse 11: Dialect] Alright, I live this life Man show fear when I grips this mic Flickering lights, glistening eyes I rap with presence, Christmas time Getting better with age like vintage wine No food left 'cause I did this right Get pissed with guys that are [?] it's time To kill 'em becah I spin 'em like a discuss flying Like, like, oh my Seems nowadays that everyone's grime Everyone's lying, there's never been any one time That you rep for the style that everyone's trying You got food, but is anyone buying? Thinking they trap 'cause you're selling one-fives Food that you've got, I'll get it, now they want hype up Against Di, nigga, you will get one strike [Verse 12: AJ Tracey] Ladbroke Grove is where I re- who? Man get burst up in the G- who? Came back with a fresh one, it's new Don't come around for a two of the blue I don't give a fuck if you're old or new I'll just yawn like "blackball who?" Put a couple dead MCs in the grave Like Dialect, trust, you can go there too Trust me, darg, you can go there free I don't ever watch F-A-C-E AJT from MTV NikeLab tracksuit, Nike ID Man got overly fucked in the beef Pretty sure I landed a bang to his teeth Man will get banged in the face by me Not my bredrin, banged in the face by me [Outro: Dialect] You know what time it is London vs. Leeds Grime-a-Side Red Bull Studios Keeping the levels high Bap