96 Bars Of Revenge

[Intro]
Anyone that's dissed my mum, yeah, suck your dead great gran through your dad's batty crease rudeboy

[Verse]
It's time to up the levels again, a new MC's born every weekend
If you're an MC, don't try and befriend me, 'cause I will not holla back like Gwen
You'll get no air time like space, frankly there's not enough space
There's already too many stars like space, I'm not having a bar like space
So shut your mouth, give me space, give me room, if you don't then you will be facing your doom
Lyrics are deeper than a bass on a tune with hidden messages like the face on the moon
My lyrics will chief up your rhymes, you just chat about beef all the time
Your content is weaker than mine, your dry lyrics need some E45
Bare MCs just lie too much, if not, then they say, "Like" too much
Easy peasy similes used frequently really gets on my nerves
High like sky, big like Ben, air like pie, that's what you do all the time in your rhymes
Not like mine, when I come round it's metaphor time
I'm so deep, when I come around, your ears pop
When I spit lyrics, your ears stop picking up the ambient sounds around 'cause I'm on top
You're so weak, when I come around, you best not
Spit no lyrics, go have a drink, swag MCs, spitting with me, that ain't the lick
It's not a good career choice, my lyrics will diminish your voice
If this was your lyric, you'll say something like me being crap and your Rolls Royce
Not Jme, that's too predictable, blud, what would I rhyme with Royce?
I'll say something deep like, "When I go festivals, I don't pay the ticket kiosk"
My name's on the list, V.I.P wristband, triple-A card hangin' from my neck
You're not a musician, put you in a room with a computer, you'll just surf the net
Not me, I open Fruit Loops, Cubase, Pro Tools, Logic
Reason, Ableton Live, I don't give a shit, switch on the computer, make a hit
See Jme? He's in charge, I ain't never been stealing cars
I'm meetin' stars, my tunes will make your mouth water, just like sweetie jars
I'm repeating bars, 'cause that's me, individual, I didn't cheat in class
You lot are thicker than windscreen glass, like Kano, I got beats and bars
My album will soon be out, you can cop that straight off the shelf like greeting cards
Want one's, two's and three's in the charts, when you're in HMV breezing past
My lyrics are serious, leaving scars, like Skepta, you'll hear me in cars
I'm not a cheat but I'm breezin' past, like a cheetah, you're a cow eatin' grass
You won't see me in a bait car chase, I'm on the grind, on a paper chase
Before all my skate park days, before music made the 8-bar phrase
LISTENNN! Like Trimbal, while Jme's hitting the right cymbal
Riddim is cold like a winter day
Listen to the bass get syncopate
Trust, can't get rid of me since I learned how to export the MIDI sequence
Skepta and Jme are rough, them lot got a loud bass drum and a tough rim shot
Any wasteman with a PC can't step to Skepta or Jme
I don't care what you thought, can't beat them at 140 BPM
Yo-yo blud-blud don't get rude-rude-rude-rude boy-boy, warning
You-you-you know that I don't normally slew-slew-slew me that'll be the end of you
All this bad boy talk is nothin', got a stiff face like you wanna say somethin'
Don't get rude, blud I said, don't get rude! I will start upper cutting
Yo-yo bredrin, fix your face-face-face-face, facts-facts you can't spray-spray-spray Jme blud
What did you say-say-ssssay that again that's the end of your day
All this re-te-te is air, think you'll scare me if you swear?
Don't get rude, blud I said, don't get rude, I will break your ear!

[Outro]
Serious, yeah, uppin' the levels yeah, producing the beats, writing the lyrics
One take, Jme, serious, hold tight all the waste MCs, all the people wasting their time
You're not a musician, stop what you're doin', shut ya mout'