Blue

[Intro: Southside JB & Merky ACE]
Dirty
Yeah
Hold it in my hand, two-handed
I done left blood in these streets
Sick head, horrible, rude
Do things you ain't thought of
Whoa
Coming up off me? Now that won't happen
Who's that? What's that? Dot-dot
Terrible torture

[Verse 1: Merky ACE]
Still moving erratic
Things on me, I ain't going to the attic
Bring who? Do what? Man ah just grab him
Red dot pon him head like pauper Aladdin
Jerk man's food that he just finished bagging
Coming up off me? That won't happen
Reverse the ting, not jamming, spinner's not jamming
Come back next week, calm, like "yo, what happened?"
I want a lightskin ting from Clapham
Eight straps and a G-wagon
Dem boy gwan go buy jewellery in Hatton
We tek the tings, then send them back to Hatton
Check the profile, more time serious
Dem boy dere get flattened
Man circle the spot like Saturn
Came with the who? What? Mek a man doo-wop
Not Lauryn when I say Hill
Juice gon' spill
Tryna mek man French kiss canvas, so romantic
Hold it in my hand two-handed
Crash, bang, he's slumped on the landing
Ratchet came through clanking
Boom-boom, boom-boom, man's blanking
Who's that? What's that? Dot-dot
Nah, man know that's the hand ting
Leave the shush at home on that Joe there
Cuh you might haffi main road crash it and dash it, gone
Man ah pull back like elastic, calm
Whoa, strike like matchstick
Get a refund for your obeah garbage (rubbish!)
Might move like Mugabe
And Idi Amin and dem boy dere
If a man step in, then boy start fret
When they leave them house, them nuh expect death
Straight cash-in-hand, me nuh accept cheque
Except when me count up label bread
I'm able, turn all the tables
Head-over-heels, man make rules
Dem boy dere can't come to the Gaza
Not even to buy ten eight-balls
Dash it in his face, fuck a convo
Came with the suttin' in my long coat
Lick off his head like strongbow
Juice gotta spill like Um'Bongo
Flock OT, that's on toe
And local but it's chotch though
You ain't gotta ask, I'm live
But you can let me know what you want, though

[Verse 2: Southside JB]
Dirty Deptford, dirty
.44 Remington teeth
Make your mum dress all churchy
I've turned down sex for beef
I'm still tryna roast this turkey
I've done left blood on these streets
I've been putting in from early
Man ah go shoot me a birdie
Straight up greazy ting
This .44 here
Don't know about talking and reasoning
Man ah fill up a boy with lead
Put all these teeth in him
Then I shove this blade in far
Pray it goes deeper in
Nobody in sight for a mile
It looks quite peak for him
He didn't wanna get this blade
But man still sneak it in
Just smoke on smoke on smoke on smoke
No shisha ting
Man ah soak his coat or poke his throat
Blood seeping in
It looks quite peak for him
Back out the rammy on him
Dirty, ram it in him
The pum pum thought he was bad
Till man flang it on him
Bullets on a cannibal ting
Brain cells hanging on him
The mizzy had never been used
Until man rang it on him
Terrible torture
Burn man's skin for a hour
Don't give him no water
Sick head, horrible, rude
Do things you ain't thought of
Man gun buck the top of your head
Now the nigga looks shorter
Kill everybody in your house
But your son and your daughter
In ten years' time
I'll put your kids in the corner
Boy turned bad, got nicked
Then turned informer
Hot head, yeah?
Well, these bells make that warmer
Fullers