a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

lirik lagu wiley - south london

[verse 1: faultsz]
yo
24’s (four’s)
faultsz is on this ting 24s (four’s)
i’m a big man, but i’m not 24s (nope)
go to the booth, spit some 24s (yep)
then it’s back to the road shop, them 20 scores
they called me like, ”faultsz, have you got any draws?” (brap, brap, brap)
violate me, kickin’ off any jaws (brap, brap, brap)
come to your yard, kicking off any doors (brr)
and i don’t care if your house is big
run up in your yard, don’t care how many floors (nope)
when i say i’m gonna come with a broom (what?)
no, i don’t do any chores
man wanna steal my cool like kors (kors)
man get clapped like round of applause (‘plause)
like youtube, put your life on pause (pause)
like youtube, put your life on pause (pause)

[verse 2: jon e clayface]
yes
clay’s all over the ting like frosting
them man come with the cheese like hopsin
then don’t climb no ranks, just flop
when we come thru’, no game, everyting sh~lly
them man there watch too much telly
don’t wanna hear no chat about bad inna dis
when i flame on, dem are not ready
stand up, on point, don’t fear many
muay thai bad breed, know that already
still man walk with death in my backpack
let a man know he can hold that calm
let a man know he can hold one quick
get a swift one, now he ain’t breathing correct, see
man like clay don’t easily fret cah
might get one in your neckback, yes
[verse 3: ten dixon]
what is it pr~cks? (come on)
i’m at your chest like jamaican vicks (come on)
rolling with clayface, that’s batman, superman sh~t
yeah, get out my cape and sh~t (woo)
don’t make man start saving sh~t
they said grime was dead
but how can it be when i’m on the road like the pavement is?
and i’m evil but not like satan is
too many man on the slaving ship (yah)
too many man on a paigon tip (yah)
don’t let me get on my tales of crypt (yah)
mandem call that the golden grip
i’ll compress an mc to a folder zip
man don’t care ’bout no blue tick
man might role up nice and sl!ck and

[verse 4: blessed]
if i roll with the ting in my palm (ayy)
i’ll have a big man all reciting psalms
thought i was gone, but i’m back, wagwan?
i’ll still spin a wig on a set, then get dark
swing a man, swing a man, ain’t no park (swing)
turn a man swift, you will get sparked (sparked)
still out here with the rambz in the car
but don’t think that we ain’t got sticks that get barked like
you already know blessed is a gen
way back when i was in the class with the pen (oh my)
them days i was in a park with a benz
nowadays i need a place to park up a z
oh yes, when i spit on a riddim, they get left
who is it? who is it? sounds of the blessed
from 010 (010), man have been surpassing levs (yeah, ayy)
i’ve been done laps, i deserve my respect
[verse 5: crafty 893]
yeah, you p~ssy, chat about bro, that’s what?
go back yard
it won’t be dubs (nah), it’ll be slugs (yeah)
topping up heat with no gas card
dunno why man’ll try, man’ll get dark
get these p~ssyhole soundboy, me nuh linger (nah)
a&e, wanna get your top pick?
only time that your name’s ever in charts (hah)
long, chat pon a song but rhyme when it’s on (dash)
man can’t ever try gas what i’m on
your gyal’s pum pum, that’s what i’m on
give a single mum back wap what i’m on (hm~hm)
slap and i’m gone
f~ck grime and everyone in it
i’m with it til man can’t gas what i’m on

[verse 6: wiley]
if you’re an mc, blud, you can get it
forget all the preaching, f~ck all the breading
it’s a lyrics for lyrics, calm, yeah i said it (ayy)
man are big lion, but some mcs are like ferrets, generic, bait as you like
they ain’t gotta be real, they can be fake as you like (jheeze)
got the venom in my bars like a snake when it bites
if i end up at your girl’s, then i’m staying for the night
i’m a stop out
put me in the ring, it’s a third round knockout
could been the first but, eddie said rock out
gotta give the fans what they want, don’t cop out
the work’s done when a man drops and i clock out
put me in a hole, but i got out
man don’t know about being in a shootout (yeah)
gotta drive home with the windows shot out
got bare grime for the fans but it’s not out

- lirik lagu wiley

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