Skepta - 1Xtra Westwood Freestyle Lyrics
Skepta Lyrics
1Xtra Westwood Freestyle Lyrics
Listen, Wiley
I told them youts I'm gone again
See the Devil ain't working, no more no more "vroom my long again"
And if I smell any fire in the building turn them sprinklers on again
I leave your whole clique wet
Thought we died but now I'm in the born again
Swing my nine again, I ain't finished yet
Here he goes again, heard a tune called "Who's Got Lyrics?"
I made a tune called "Stupid Question"
Fam I got flows again, I write the wickedest lyrics, yaeh
Disrespect anyone of my bros again
Fling on my black-track clothes again
Make sure you die slow again
And I'm finished, yo yo
Like Arma said, it's nothing, leave them
Bare skeng talk, I can't believe them
The red and white R6 I'll leave them Ed Hardy glasses
I can't see them
So why you talking like you can't die?
One bullet in each lung, breath then then, you see you're sounding wheezy
And I heard your CD, you and your mandem are talking greazy
I just tell a man like D-E-E, come on, come on
Do you really think I give two shits if you're greazy?
I don't think so, you man ain't seen greazy yet
When my mandem pop it off, your manna will fly into the sky like EasyJet
Cause I'm back in my zone again, it's mental
Listening to the same instrumental
Staying up so late my eyes start looking oriental
And this pen is so temperamental, it's mental
I get money but you still see me in a rental
Shaking the petrol pump, tryna get the last bits of petrol
Cause I'm famous, I keep it normal still
Real recognise real, recognise real
I'm so real, the nurse that brought me
Will recognise me when I'm forty
Like Shorty I've been real from day
I see MC's I don't carry on away
So why would they wanna hate us when its 2008?
You know what, I would hate me too
If I had the same MySpace views as you
If I saw Skepta go from sitting on a wall
To sitting in a white V6 coupe
I think I'm the best and I call it competitive confidence, not vanity
It's not my fault them man got a childish mentality
They don't know how to make a tune for the mainstream
Radio, road man and stage show at the same time
Watch what "Too Many Man" and "Sunglasses At Night" do in 2-00-9
Let me show you why I'm the King of Grime
You write a hundred million different flows
I write that classical line, to last me my whole life time
Yes, I wouldn't like me either
If I had a flow like yours that left no space for a breather
Then Skepta comes around, with a flow that breaks down
More times than a P-reg Vauxhall Tigra
To book Skepta ain't getting no cheaper, promoters still want me to feature
You're sitting at home telling yourself the swag food you're smoking is a creeper
It's not creeping, stop lying to yourself fam
You might as well have bought shisha
Too real, nobody realer
Too deep, nobody deeper
Flow like Gus, call me the street sweeper
Yo, it's time to get darker
Rise up the cricket bat like Brian Lara
Anybody see any enemies on the Gaza
Empty the clip first, questions after
From time the skeng burst, no more laughter
Them man can't laugh with me
Or fist me, one man soldier
If I'm danger, turn into a gymnastic with a little Linford Christie
Then if I see a fence I'm a hurdler
Jump in your back garden like a burglar
And boy better know the difference between sending for the 9 millimetre and a murderer
Cause I'm so presidential and these yutes ain't respecting the president
But when the war kicks off
You start phoning and texting the president
You think you can take me for a victim
You think I rap way too fast
Now your thinking this grime ting ain't the in ting
But you know what? I hear that killer
But don't mistake me for that, I get mad
when I think this ting got me spitting with people like Boya and Saskilla
Look right its not what it looks like
I stay with a gang, live a good life
I used to shot grams on a push bike,
But I want a name brand like Suge Knight
I took time, I kept a low profile
I had the food that made the cats go wild
Before music, I had a booming line
Fam, ask T-Mobile
Six o'clock in the morning
I flew out, flew down the road, flew back then flew in
My mum knows what I'm doing
And deep down, I know she's screwing
I fell asleep with 13 scores in my mouth
Had a dream about chicken and chips
Like an eedyat, I started chewing
Woke up, started spewing
Thinking when is all this gonna end?
I had to open them up then wrap them again
I've been on the road so if the beat needs road bars, it's nothing I'll strap them again
Real mandem know I'm certified, you can't school me, I've been there
That's why when you walk in the dance all the skengman go to, I'm in there
Put your sunglasses on
Dance with me to my sunglasses song
Some manna's don't like me cause I say I'm the king of grime
So time after time I show man, I will never let no man diss the program
Over and over again I prove that; any radio show, any DVD, any stage show man
Put me up against gimmicks, sound effects or skippy flow man
Don't think that you're cold
You're not ready for the snow man, you don't want drama
Trust me I can get hot like lava
So on point in the war, the government wanna find out if I've been chatting to Osama
Skepta the K-I-N-G, man start panicking when I MC
Yeah, J-A rules, but it's Boy Better Know, it's not Murder I-N-C
Yo, there's some hating family
Never ever gonna be Made In Family
They got no bars, call them man need-more-training family
Nope, they start...family
So one-minute-remaining family
And they got no cars
Some Tesco's bag on their head when it's raining family
My family are some money-making family
Start behaving family, I turn in the electrician and start tazin family
We put holes in skins, them man are some grazing family
I drop so much shit, them man are still straining family
Boy Better Know, I'm, I'm
I said Boy Better - yo yo
I'm no snake but you don't wanna clash this python
Cause when I start squeezin fam I make MCs wanna resort to violence
I'm a heavyweight like Mike Tyson
And I'm the king of the ring like Rocky
That's why I don't watch nobody
Got old school MCs sayin "We need some more girls in here" like it's Olly Olly Olly
I'm ready for the war anytime when it kicks off
That's why my enemies are pissed off
I'll be the best grime artist
Even if I made an album with a Punjabi hit-squad
Clash me, I'll make you jump like Kriss Kross
Make a man know, that I'm not a nimrod
And if you still don't know what time it is...
Check out my Ed Hardy wristwatch
Actually, check out the jeans, Ed Hardy Factory
Some dumb Ed Hardy creps, walkin with a dumb Ed Hardy bop
I got so much Ed Hardy clothes
I could open my own Ed Hardy shop
But, you man are dry like you ain't creamed before
I shop in a place you ain't seen before
The Ed Hardy Dan wearing some Ed Hardy watches you ain't seen before
I'm peaking, me and Stryder become true on a "flee" ting
Your shopkeeper, he knows it's a P-ting
Walk in the shop on a D Double E ting
Like "Yo boss it's me again, yes it's me again"
Show me your new Ed
My garments, cost an arm and a leg
Man are like "Skeppy, you're kill em dred"
Taliban stylee, we kamakaze, too much style for the party
And if it's not a Boy Better Know or Star in the Hood t-shirt
Then it's gotta be Ed Hardy
Why? Cause I wear my own garms
Might see me on road, I want arms
Told dem "Shut ya mouth, there's no qualms"
Rudeboi, wipe ya lip, wipe the skwarm
Dem way dere, I wear my own garms
Might see me on road, I want arms
Told them "Shut ya mouth, there's no qualms"
Check this, yo
Say what I want? Say what I like
Let me spit the real Ghetto Gospel into the mic
No word of a lie, no hype
Lotta these MCs couldn't be badboys on the road
So they picked up the pen and paper, tried to get a little stripe
But I ain't in it
You see they diss us, but they hate us
They wanna say my name in a lyric
You make an album to show your talent, but instead
Ghetts made Freedom of Speech and said my name every two minutes
Man wanna go to the mountain
Go to shows on a tour bus
Next time make an album, not a CD fulla war dubs
And if you want a beef ---, just call us
I'm like call us now
118, call us now
Boy Better Know, that's the label now
Left dem yutes in a cradle now
Left dem with no milk in a bottle
Man wanna F with the team til I grip on the ting
Like a ---, got Yamaha trottle
God knows I don't wanna fight and quabble
But man keep testing my patience
Tell A&E make way for the patients
Azzy man's gots a lot of powerful skenks
So you might buss one on a special occasion
Just stress out my brain, then it's a 38th, special occaision
They'll be a lot of, banging and screaming
Kinda like a firework celebration, definitely
Danger, tell these babies there's no space in a major
Anybody get rude, I send for the head top rearranger
Go home and do the math
I'm Jme multiplied by Maxwell Ranger
Way too serious
And if you don't wanna get taken away don't talk to the stranger
Man better tell the truth and stop lying
Everybody knows when dutty Skepta touch up the microphone
These other man start dying
Mum dressed in black, everybody crying
Man diss me but I'm not replying
I'm not in an indirecting and slying
Lot of these MCs
Thinking they're gonna get rich but they all die tryin'
War me, record me
Lights, camera, action
Who produces anthem after anthem?
Skepta, The Microphone Champion
Some people can't see that you can't win a lyrical war with me
So I'm gonna call this one Lord of the Mics, Part 3
And murder another 25 MCs
So dig me a larger grave
Spray my ting like aftershave
It's gonna be a par today
When your heartbeat stops and you pass away
Trust me, it's all easy to me
I'm champagne, you're Lambrini to me
Dunno why you're talkin greazy to me
When I'm Rodney Price
Yo, I said all this laughing stops in a minute
Letting off 28 shots in a minute
Ringing up Reggie and Potts in a minute
Roll up to your ends, 9 o'clock precisely
And make sure everybody drops in a minute
Man are gonna run like fox in a minute
Eff an hourly rate, I make lots in a minute
R U Dumb Four, that's out in a shops in a minute
I repeat, that's out in a shops in a minute
Your wifey wants to link me cause when you're doin your ting
Your ting flops in a minute
Balligan's out of the box in a minute
Solo's out of the box in a minute
My mandem's out of the box in a minute
Start looking at your watches and clocks in a minute
I told them youts I'm gone again
See the Devil ain't working, no more no more "vroom my long again"
And if I smell any fire in the building turn them sprinklers on again
I leave your whole clique wet
Thought we died but now I'm in the born again
Swing my nine again, I ain't finished yet
Here he goes again, heard a tune called "Who's Got Lyrics?"
I made a tune called "Stupid Question"
Fam I got flows again, I write the wickedest lyrics, yaeh
Disrespect anyone of my bros again
Fling on my black-track clothes again
Make sure you die slow again
And I'm finished, yo yo
Like Arma said, it's nothing, leave them
Bare skeng talk, I can't believe them
The red and white R6 I'll leave them Ed Hardy glasses
I can't see them
So why you talking like you can't die?
One bullet in each lung, breath then then, you see you're sounding wheezy
And I heard your CD, you and your mandem are talking greazy
I just tell a man like D-E-E, come on, come on
Do you really think I give two shits if you're greazy?
I don't think so, you man ain't seen greazy yet
When my mandem pop it off, your manna will fly into the sky like EasyJet
Cause I'm back in my zone again, it's mental
Listening to the same instrumental
Staying up so late my eyes start looking oriental
And this pen is so temperamental, it's mental
I get money but you still see me in a rental
Shaking the petrol pump, tryna get the last bits of petrol
Cause I'm famous, I keep it normal still
Real recognise real, recognise real
I'm so real, the nurse that brought me
Will recognise me when I'm forty
Like Shorty I've been real from day
I see MC's I don't carry on away
So why would they wanna hate us when its 2008?
You know what, I would hate me too
If I had the same MySpace views as you
If I saw Skepta go from sitting on a wall
To sitting in a white V6 coupe
I think I'm the best and I call it competitive confidence, not vanity
It's not my fault them man got a childish mentality
They don't know how to make a tune for the mainstream
Radio, road man and stage show at the same time
Watch what "Too Many Man" and "Sunglasses At Night" do in 2-00-9
Let me show you why I'm the King of Grime
You write a hundred million different flows
I write that classical line, to last me my whole life time
Yes, I wouldn't like me either
If I had a flow like yours that left no space for a breather
Then Skepta comes around, with a flow that breaks down
More times than a P-reg Vauxhall Tigra
To book Skepta ain't getting no cheaper, promoters still want me to feature
You're sitting at home telling yourself the swag food you're smoking is a creeper
It's not creeping, stop lying to yourself fam
You might as well have bought shisha
Too real, nobody realer
Too deep, nobody deeper
Flow like Gus, call me the street sweeper
Yo, it's time to get darker
Rise up the cricket bat like Brian Lara
Anybody see any enemies on the Gaza
Empty the clip first, questions after
From time the skeng burst, no more laughter
Them man can't laugh with me
Or fist me, one man soldier
If I'm danger, turn into a gymnastic with a little Linford Christie
Then if I see a fence I'm a hurdler
Jump in your back garden like a burglar
And boy better know the difference between sending for the 9 millimetre and a murderer
Cause I'm so presidential and these yutes ain't respecting the president
But when the war kicks off
You start phoning and texting the president
You think you can take me for a victim
You think I rap way too fast
Now your thinking this grime ting ain't the in ting
But you know what? I hear that killer
But don't mistake me for that, I get mad
when I think this ting got me spitting with people like Boya and Saskilla
Look right its not what it looks like
I stay with a gang, live a good life
I used to shot grams on a push bike,
But I want a name brand like Suge Knight
I took time, I kept a low profile
I had the food that made the cats go wild
Before music, I had a booming line
Fam, ask T-Mobile
Six o'clock in the morning
I flew out, flew down the road, flew back then flew in
My mum knows what I'm doing
And deep down, I know she's screwing
I fell asleep with 13 scores in my mouth
Had a dream about chicken and chips
Like an eedyat, I started chewing
Woke up, started spewing
Thinking when is all this gonna end?
I had to open them up then wrap them again
I've been on the road so if the beat needs road bars, it's nothing I'll strap them again
Real mandem know I'm certified, you can't school me, I've been there
That's why when you walk in the dance all the skengman go to, I'm in there
Put your sunglasses on
Dance with me to my sunglasses song
Some manna's don't like me cause I say I'm the king of grime
So time after time I show man, I will never let no man diss the program
Over and over again I prove that; any radio show, any DVD, any stage show man
Put me up against gimmicks, sound effects or skippy flow man
Don't think that you're cold
You're not ready for the snow man, you don't want drama
Trust me I can get hot like lava
So on point in the war, the government wanna find out if I've been chatting to Osama
Skepta the K-I-N-G, man start panicking when I MC
Yeah, J-A rules, but it's Boy Better Know, it's not Murder I-N-C
Yo, there's some hating family
Never ever gonna be Made In Family
They got no bars, call them man need-more-training family
Nope, they start...family
So one-minute-remaining family
And they got no cars
Some Tesco's bag on their head when it's raining family
My family are some money-making family
Start behaving family, I turn in the electrician and start tazin family
We put holes in skins, them man are some grazing family
I drop so much shit, them man are still straining family
Boy Better Know, I'm, I'm
I said Boy Better - yo yo
I'm no snake but you don't wanna clash this python
Cause when I start squeezin fam I make MCs wanna resort to violence
I'm a heavyweight like Mike Tyson
And I'm the king of the ring like Rocky
That's why I don't watch nobody
Got old school MCs sayin "We need some more girls in here" like it's Olly Olly Olly
I'm ready for the war anytime when it kicks off
That's why my enemies are pissed off
I'll be the best grime artist
Even if I made an album with a Punjabi hit-squad
Clash me, I'll make you jump like Kriss Kross
Make a man know, that I'm not a nimrod
And if you still don't know what time it is...
Check out my Ed Hardy wristwatch
Actually, check out the jeans, Ed Hardy Factory
Some dumb Ed Hardy creps, walkin with a dumb Ed Hardy bop
I got so much Ed Hardy clothes
I could open my own Ed Hardy shop
But, you man are dry like you ain't creamed before
I shop in a place you ain't seen before
The Ed Hardy Dan wearing some Ed Hardy watches you ain't seen before
I'm peaking, me and Stryder become true on a "flee" ting
Your shopkeeper, he knows it's a P-ting
Walk in the shop on a D Double E ting
Like "Yo boss it's me again, yes it's me again"
Show me your new Ed
My garments, cost an arm and a leg
Man are like "Skeppy, you're kill em dred"
Taliban stylee, we kamakaze, too much style for the party
And if it's not a Boy Better Know or Star in the Hood t-shirt
Then it's gotta be Ed Hardy
Why? Cause I wear my own garms
Might see me on road, I want arms
Told dem "Shut ya mouth, there's no qualms"
Rudeboi, wipe ya lip, wipe the skwarm
Dem way dere, I wear my own garms
Might see me on road, I want arms
Told them "Shut ya mouth, there's no qualms"
Check this, yo
Say what I want? Say what I like
Let me spit the real Ghetto Gospel into the mic
No word of a lie, no hype
Lotta these MCs couldn't be badboys on the road
So they picked up the pen and paper, tried to get a little stripe
But I ain't in it
You see they diss us, but they hate us
They wanna say my name in a lyric
You make an album to show your talent, but instead
Ghetts made Freedom of Speech and said my name every two minutes
Man wanna go to the mountain
Go to shows on a tour bus
Next time make an album, not a CD fulla war dubs
And if you want a beef ---, just call us
I'm like call us now
118, call us now
Boy Better Know, that's the label now
Left dem yutes in a cradle now
Left dem with no milk in a bottle
Man wanna F with the team til I grip on the ting
Like a ---, got Yamaha trottle
God knows I don't wanna fight and quabble
But man keep testing my patience
Tell A&E make way for the patients
Azzy man's gots a lot of powerful skenks
So you might buss one on a special occasion
Just stress out my brain, then it's a 38th, special occaision
They'll be a lot of, banging and screaming
Kinda like a firework celebration, definitely
Danger, tell these babies there's no space in a major
Anybody get rude, I send for the head top rearranger
Go home and do the math
I'm Jme multiplied by Maxwell Ranger
Way too serious
And if you don't wanna get taken away don't talk to the stranger
Man better tell the truth and stop lying
Everybody knows when dutty Skepta touch up the microphone
These other man start dying
Mum dressed in black, everybody crying
Man diss me but I'm not replying
I'm not in an indirecting and slying
Lot of these MCs
Thinking they're gonna get rich but they all die tryin'
War me, record me
Lights, camera, action
Who produces anthem after anthem?
Skepta, The Microphone Champion
Some people can't see that you can't win a lyrical war with me
So I'm gonna call this one Lord of the Mics, Part 3
And murder another 25 MCs
So dig me a larger grave
Spray my ting like aftershave
It's gonna be a par today
When your heartbeat stops and you pass away
Trust me, it's all easy to me
I'm champagne, you're Lambrini to me
Dunno why you're talkin greazy to me
When I'm Rodney Price
Yo, I said all this laughing stops in a minute
Letting off 28 shots in a minute
Ringing up Reggie and Potts in a minute
Roll up to your ends, 9 o'clock precisely
And make sure everybody drops in a minute
Man are gonna run like fox in a minute
Eff an hourly rate, I make lots in a minute
R U Dumb Four, that's out in a shops in a minute
I repeat, that's out in a shops in a minute
Your wifey wants to link me cause when you're doin your ting
Your ting flops in a minute
Balligan's out of the box in a minute
Solo's out of the box in a minute
My mandem's out of the box in a minute
Start looking at your watches and clocks in a minute
Back to: Skepta Lyrics