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lirik lagu mcroy (grime) – hardman talk

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[intro: swavy beats]
it’s swavy in your speakers

[verse 1: mcroy]
see, people ask me if i’ve git’ interest in what’s next?
nah brah, sever heads
several bends on the path tae make amends
when you’re broke, you don’t stop, leap a fence
inty’ the garden, through the back door tae’ a find what they’re stashing
zip strapping, bag packin’
aw the wrappings that he left bagged at the tap ae the landing
‘n’ a run ‘oot the front door
stuck on ze’ brunt force
put the dual comms ‘n’ a run forth
to the one source, wae’ the one force
does he sell them? does he punt? course
‘n’ i want more when i crunch notes inty’ the palm of yer hand
one more to the gang, one loads to the notes in the back
one hordes upon hordes of course in advance
well done to the growers and the mowers wae’ the plants
yes, just keep doin’ what ye’ do best
find a new strain for my brain to lose stress
move less, sit on the couch and watch a few eps of, “move fresh”
from the heads, wae’ a new set of weapons
seconds from beheading, wreckin’ bodyparts full of preference
’cause i’m insane on [?] would reckon
that a f-cked brain and this pain and the presence would f-ck me up for life
f-ck me up for one time
fall apart then depart for the god line
p-ss the bud, right?
gl-ss ae’ the love wine, it’s so relaxing
tac and i work fine
bend in a masterpiece, cause casualties
to the last of ye’s when i form strategies
and when the beat comes i stomp fast and speed
toward the lasting peace, no fantasies
cause i bomb once tae’ a [?]
to abundance, get lost in a substance
in a right loss cause i’m boss in a circ-mference
i’m sick ae’ lies fae’ some c-nts
cannae be f-cked with the snakes when i blabbin’ the mouth at a rapid pace
like a rapid deer wae’ the crack ‘n’ the pace
one jab in the face put you back in your face (ha, hm)

[chorus: mcroy]
don’t give me hardman talk
listen to the master talk
what anybody wae’ the badman sword in the palm ae’ the madman sword
one chop and it won’t be long till your gone, dead
left in the shed and it won’t be long till the feds
detect that a strong odour gets bolder as they get closer to the unfresh corpse left

[verse 2: mcroy]
now i’m running through the back
ah, hear the sticks snap?
it’s me coming through with a big bat
here bro, mare’ fae’ the chit-chat
play ball, swing to the heads whacked
head splats, left on the grund’ like a dead rat
laughing and running i’m just having fun wae’ the death trap
and am part of the party, of course, it was set rap
talking nonsense, far right wae’ your problems
keep in mind in my problem, never leave, never solve em’
when the breeze is evolving
ten times in the coffin when i box em’
and i ask you, “what’s the score?”
you say, “nuttin’, man – i’ve just been cutting plants and talking grants”
i’ve got somethin’ planned
then i run up ten toes into your gaff’
going bam, bam, bam
c-nt’s lying dead in the path
quick stuff the pants before the feds come, fast
then we’ll jump the fence out the back
it depends when a draft for the money
put the fends on the strap
dartmoor’s sunny but i’ll be dressed all black
then i’ll come running in wae’ a wrench and a bat
in a vengeance smack, but the tension’s bad
i’ll start right back, never had much, never had luck
never had love, only had the pills and the bars that we puff
no cars in the pub, just parts in the mud
but we scatter that fast when the dual came up fae’ the back
on our tails ‘n’ they track us down wae’ around five hounds in the van
they don’t know about the plan but they know about us
how do they know about us?
there must be some c-nt opening up
scoping the club, holding us up, let’s fold this f-cking sh-t up
pulled the snitch fae’ the room
pushed in the ditch ae’ the doomed
my fist goes boom, won’t miss this goon, nah
dismissed it through fumes, brah
(aye) take him down, fly, take him down the ground, pound him down
take the spliff to the mouth and fly
take the chance but don’t doubt ‘n’ try
take the chance but don’t doubt ‘n’ try
put a spliff to the mouth now and fly

[chorus: mcroy]
don’t give me hardman talk
listen to the master talk
what anybody wae’ the badman sword in the palm ae’ the madman sword
one chop and it won’t be long till your gone, dead
left in the shed and it won’t be long till the feds
detect that a strong odour gets bolder as they get closer to the unfresh corpse left


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