I ain't hittin' it back I'm splittin' the racket x8
I'm comin' straight outta Brighton, a crazy motherfucker named Wizzy Sirens in the city like I'm rollin round with Dizzy You was in the basement with a pencil gettin' picky I was in the basement with a couple eigths I'm gettin' sticky (It's like a) It's like a OOH Makin' a brudder go high pitched All of these mandem are tellin' me that when I get on the mic it's a hype ting Vibezin', no man I ain't on Vinin' Big beats on the dial like 666 that time again
Look, I ain't hittin' it back I'm splittin' the racket You got that literal whackness spread upon your lyrical sandwich All of my brothers be lovin' the way I be spittin' erratic Rappin' as sick as the fashion, (never my mandem?) I'll spit in the face of an enemy Wizzy be movin' like hazardous
For music I'm jet settin' like Led Zeppelin I hate talking love rappin' I ain't (Ted Reppin'?) Fuck bench pressin' I cover my food in French Dressin' Playin' football munchin' on a pasty call me Gregg Beckham Oh no brudda ya listenin' to a megolomanic Master of modesty like contrast is enigmatic And I could (pin it back with sluts I got my pick of the perfect places to pen a passings?) Watch me pitter patter to different parts of a written pattern Plus alliteration a wicked blag for a sicker stanza watch me (dipala?) for my fickle thoughts in this sea of magma Plus I got the slang to decipher (gibber blacker than sagna?) Mad with the grammar I tell 'em
(It's yours) Is it? Yeah brudda it's mine Co-coconut, cro cro an' that yeah brudda I'm fine O-pokin' that, slow tokin' that I roll it fat right? No-no to that po-po I got no statement or time X2
I ain't hittin' it back I'm splittin' the racket You man are visibly vapid me I got that visceral package All of my mandem are lovin' the way I be givin' them classics They're in-equivalent rappers I'm an extravagant brudda I'm doin' it (rancid?) they call me the king and the captain (yeah)
They call me the king and the captain (???) I never tolerate nonsense I rush the world around to keep myself from slowin' down But slow it down on tracks so you can judge whether my word's profound
I'm jamaican like Snoop Dogg Hate bacon like (Boondocks?) My Dad looked at 2Chainz and the future He said do what you gotta do son So I did what I done did brudda I got flips And I spit gutter I bopped in with a bic Nah I'm fuckin' up shit this summerTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
