BBC Radio & SafOne & P Money & Nolay & Stormzy & Mic Righteous & Akala & Ghetts
BBC Radio & Nolay & Deadly R3al & Blizzard & Akala
BBC Radio & P Money & Nolay & Ghetts
BBC Radio & Potter Payper & SafOne & Stormzy & Deadly R3al & Blizzard & Mic Righteous & Ghetts
BBC Radio & Squeeks
BBC Radio & Mic Righteous & Akala & Ghetts
BBC Radio & Nolay & Mic Righteous & Akala & P Money & Stormzy & Deadly R3al & Ghetts
[Verse 1: Akala]
Yo, Fire in the Booth Cypher, listen
Uh, Akala
Forget about walkin' in 'em
You couldn't put my shoes on
You ain't smart enough for me to wanna hear your views on
Freestyle, written or a new song
If I wanted bullshit, woulda just turned the news on
Man are fake as Jamaica's independence
I spit one sentence, put the Devil in repentance
'Cause the flow's that vicious
Snitches, dumber than white people tryna call themselves niggas
Pigs kill our kids, you ain't seen
Love hip hop, don't know what hip hop means
Are you lean? Are you lean?
From the green, from the green
Never been signed but I've been the best in the scene
From when there was a platform, Fire in the Booth
For rappers to be judged how they actually rap
Who came top of the pack, it's a fact
I didn't have to pretend that I do sell crack
We all got dawgs that'll bust their strap
But I'm so old school, so down for a scrap
Your favourite rapper could get the Muay Thai elbow
Straight in his head top, sure you could tell though
I'm off 'round the world to lecture
A bag of universities, what did he say?
And I never finished college, let alone uni
I'm living proof that intelligence pays
That is not a metaphor, I meant that literally
My itinerary, swing by Italy
So we can all floss, we can all boss
Who runs companies, who does not?
Never sold my soul, but we all got flows
And we all got shows, and we all got...
Matter of fact, we ain't all got flows
If they said you could rap, that was too much crow
Well I got more rhymes than the Chinese got dollars
You won't get that line 'cause you're not scholars
So which MC could touch mine?
Who done off the EDL guy with one line?
Look, bruv, we are not niggas
Like I did, you need a minute to go figure
So the meantime, I will deliver a little vigour
From the tongue trigger that will still a dum-dum spitter
[?]
And then you realise your country's run by many similar
You're little mimickers, my miniatures
You might score but you got no skill, Lineker
Sure I'll finish ya, vivider than a cinema
The way I paint a picture with words, it should be criminal
Who told you it's hard, it isn't, it's easy
As bullshittin' to politicians
I'm a man on a mission, with a plan and a vision
I'd be damned if I didn't, so I abandon resistance
H•A•M with the lyrics and I standardly kill it
Leave it lookin' like tryna get a tan when you're British
Told 'em all
All these little MCs, who do you think helped mould them all?
Now everybody want to be independent
10 years ago, didn't I show them all?
[Verse 2: Bella Gotti (No-Lay)]
Niggas looking at me like I snatched their bladder
'Cause 24-7 I be takin' the piss
If the watch don't come off then I'm takin' your wrist
Put the white on scales like it snowed on a fish
Bitch, do you not know who it is?
Isabella Gotti, but you can call me miss
Big hips so I can't find jeans that I fit
You don't like my shit, go and sit on the stick
Money, money, money, money, money
That's all I wanna talk about
Money, money, money
I blew the safe, then I hopped in
And my eyes went a different colour like Hopsin
My punchlines like cocaine boxing
I got so many bars around me like I'm locked in
You niggas wish you were time travellers
So you can go back and murder me before I realised
I could kill a million guys, that got a million rhymes, with one fuckin' line
Money in my rucksack, money on my spine
Mummy I'll be fine, I'm about this life
Only God knows why
And my dogs know I am about this rhyme
My brain evicted me, I'm out of my mind
So keep me off your tongue, and out of your mouth
I put your man on smash, he put his head down south
[Verse 3: SafOne]
Yo, Ps for the weed, bring it out
Phones off, clingers out
Mandem on it, on road flinging out
Left jab, right hook, if you wanna swing it out
Like eff your shoe box, fam, manna fill it out
Your months wage, mandem'll bring it out
Buy champagne and start spillin' out
My birthday, man coulda bought a house
But eff that I'm still in my yard sittin' down
Thinkin' how am I dawg, sittin' down?
Thinkin' how are my dawgs in the ground?
Thinkin' how is my arse still around?
But I'm outchea, still talk of the town
Raw, nah I don't water it down
And I don't wanna hear no talk about war
Cuh I'm still walkin' around
'Low that, dangers, bring it out
Mask and gloves, bring 'em out
Swear, manna been doin' this ting
So it's rare that you're gonna see a man spin it out
Never that, bit of brake, yeah down, fling it out
Look what's roundabout, skid it round
Man I'm ocean, probably bumpin' Drake's new ting
Real man, rollin' out
[Deadly]
Yo, bring 'em out, bring 'em out
Look who's fully eating dinner now
Don't chat to me 'bout iTunes
I'm like CDs man, fling em out, fling 'em out
Concerts man, fill 'em out, fill 'em out
We bring 'em out every time we been around
We lookin' over the grime scene grinnin' out
Makin' man know, listen
Yo, who said I would get left in the dark
I'm back with a vengeance like rah
Turn up to get entrance and bark
Then you will hear engines and cars
Might see you main man slumped out like rah
Dead, you're gone too far
I will push back, we go trip, then laugh
Man chat shit, hold dick from shaft
Run this ting, don't think it's talk
Deadly will wait till dark, me you and strap can link in park
Minutes to midnight, blinkin' sparks
You'll not turn up, if you're thinkin' smart
You'll be sprintin' fast
Stay blacked out like...
Listen, there's levels
[Verse 4: Stormzy]
Man try flex, man got me movin' like Ghetts
Like d-d-dead him on sight, yeah dem man clap
They're doin' better in the trap
But we're doin' better in life, so fuck your raps
Kick off the door from the latch
Like it's easy to get up inside
Swear man, you old MCs need to leave it alone
Cuh you're not gettin' better with time
Leave it to us, go look after your kids
I'll take over from...
Yo, yo, listen
From the top, from the top
Fire in the Booth Cypher
Myself Stormzy
Everyone inside
Yo, just warming up
Check it, look
Man try flex, man got me movin' like Ghetts
Like d-d-dead him on sight, yeah dem man clap
They're doin' better in the trap
But we're doin' better in life, so fuck your raps
Kick off the door from the latch
Like it's easy to get up inside
Swear man, you old MCs need to leave it alone
Cuh you're not gettin' better with time
So leave it to us, go look after your kids
I'll take over from here
I made more movements than half of these pricks
And it didn't even take me a year
But a man try tell me to suck my mum I said
"Wait brutha, suck my who?"
Can't take big Mike for some any old prick
Don't ask why I touched that yute, but
Anyway back to the rap ish
I brought dark skin back for the black kids
Big man like you gettin' catfished
One take for the verse and the ad-libs
Yeah, I used to be on the roads
Times I would freeze in the cold just to wait at the bus stop
So next time you talk about Skepta, Giggs or Wretch, don't forget about us lot, word
Wait, nah, but I didn't really die though
This a part of the game, ideas all up in my brain like I walk with a light bulb
Man I came back with a flame
And a pendant wrapped on my chain
And a beat on my iPhone, somebody passin' the game
List of the grime scene names
Do this with a blindfold, brutha it's easy
Huh, what you gonna try tell me?
Shit, I went back to the mountains
Look, and came back lookin' healthy
Fuck, man I'm sick in my head
Nobody can't help me
The love that you get for your songs
Shit, I get that for a selfie
Lord help me
Man are outrageous, somebody stop them
Needed a favour, tell 'em I got them
Bun all the haters, I do not watch them
I am the saviour, I am the problem
What you gonna chat 'bout now?
What you brothers gonna rap 'bout now?
When you gonna stop bitin' my flow?
Why you brothers gotta cat my style?
Man I...
Oi fuck this
[Verse 5: P Money]
I've had enough of your lyrics, all of your gimmicks
Your flows sound tortured and timid
I got the game in the barrel 'cause I be aiming to kill it
Cover you quickly like what I spray is acrylic
Boom bang, both of you dazed in a minute
Lame and you mimic
You're rhymin' out of time in your lyrics
Dead or alive, I don't know, you decide when I'm finished
You rate real, this a Type R, according to Civic
So you all thought, actin' like you wanted to give it
Give me the riddem, I rip it, and tell my enemies stick it
I be playin' it smooth, and they be playin' it rigid
Ballin' out on my own, now they wanted to kick it
Showin' everybody flows, then they wishin' they bit it
Took a leap of faith, now you can tell when I ribbit
Boom, feelin' like a body shot when I rib it
They're all talking the talk, but not one of them live it
Flowin' it fast, you're about to go in a trance
Feelin' like a phone bill when I run up a charge
See I call the ambulance, got a couple man asking
[?]
Kinda class doesn't really come in a school, it comes in a car
Babe come in the car
Next minute, ahh, I made her cum in the car
Downin' that strong drink that don't come in the glass
Tell 'em it's all goin' down when I'm up in the dance
She's lovin' the bars, the beats, says she's lovin' the cars
She give me a chance, you're not even given a pass
So give it to me, 'cause never do I muck up a task
So give it to me, why? 'Cause I'm one of the stars
Give it to me, why? 'Cause I'm one of the stars
Give it to me, why? 'Cause I'm one of the stars
And when I drop my tune they be like "Mother rah"
[Ghetts]
Back to back, I'm back to that
With a hat back and a MAC in lap
This is head top
Which one of these MCs should I head top?
Forehead, red dot
Soldier, 21 gun salute
At least you got a bad boy send off
Analyse the game, see where they went wrong
So I got it covered, any angle they send from
Flows, where'd ya get them from?
Bars, where'd ya get them from?
Where the fuck's the respect gone?
I'd slap man out your sleep if I'm slept on
I'm on a level that they ain't ever stepped on
This is Ghetto, not Ghetts, dog
Speak up, where's ya chest gone
A lot of war, I'm in my heart and my chest strong
I'm on my Jack Jones, and I feel like I'm ten strong
School more MCs than St Bon's
Ay, look, look
[Verse 6: Mic Righteous]
I only deal with certain people
I only deal with certain people
I only deal with certain people, people know
People know I'm from the coast and I give my people hope
From feeling broke, but other people seem to joke
'Cause people's minds are smaller than their balls are so they need to boast
I don't think people know the suffering my people go through
I don't think you people would believe me even if I showed you
If I showed you, if I showed you even though you felt some pain
Ain't to say there ain't no one out there that ain't felt the same
But fuck certain people, we don't work with egos, every person's equal
And fuck certain people when they say they love you but they turn and leave you
And fuck 'the world is evil, every man for theirself', I wanna help the people
These fat cats wanna kill the people
Steal from people, look at what they sell to people
Same old tricks and they still deceive you
It's hell for people, but I fail to free you
But we just as fucked, what the hell can we do?
Be selfish, dude that ain't healthy
I be tryna live healthy, watch my well-being
You wanna be like the wealthy people
Those Made in Chelsea people
Let hell freeze
Oh please, no fees for selfies, no self esteem
You still self loathe, self harm, watch yourself bleed
Been there myself, no self belief
There ain't nothin' you can tell me, people
Got people I'm cool with, people I went school with
People that are bringing the tool if I call 'em
Some be in England, some be in Scotland
My peeps are my people
Check this
No eyes shut this time
Know my shit fucked and I might just light this blunt
Turn a festival to a fighting club
The best of all time, you ain't frightening us
Fat fuck, you ain't dieting much
Rap tough, you ain't writing much
Ah fuck, now look at what I've become
And I just begun, retire your mum
I give an MC ten seconds to run like ten ni- fuck
5, 4, 1, click clack clow
Sit back down, Alan Sugar ain't firing fuck
I'ma just sit there and smile while you slimy fucks eat off my plate
This ain't Come Dine With Me, blud
Rope round your feet wrapped round to a tree
Rope round your neck and it's tied to a truck, and the driver is drunk
You can hear the engine firing up
Wheels spinning quicker than a vinyl spun by Preemo
And you can see your spinal tear
Am I all there? No
So you can spare me your final prayers, bro
Fuckin' this game, stickin' my dick in its ear hole
We weirdos, we heroes but we here, ho
Forgot About Dre Freestyle was produced by Dr. Dre.
BBC Radio released Forgot About Dre Freestyle on Sat Sep 13 2014.