This song was written as a diss to Wiley.
The beef all started when Wiley’s “Where’s My Brother?” song came out. It was a subliminal shot at Goodz and his brother Crazy Titch, over what happened when they went to jail for shooting a producer over a diss track. Goodz got released after a retrial but...
[Intro]
Wow, is that all you got pussy?
I tell you what, yeah
You are going to hate me
Because I'm a much better MC than you, blud
That's that, suck yourself
[Verse]
Crackhead just came back from the dead
Like he's looking to slap your hooks and your raps to shreds
Tell me what's up with Will, what's up with your deal?
'Cause when you record
You wanna know what's up with me or what's up with deal
What's up with the pill
What's up with the real and not with your skills?
Why'd you fuck with wassup in Austrail'?
You're selling your soul to get in the mode don't get me involved
I'm a movement, so nah I ain't Ghetto an' those
I'm better with flows I'm better at shows
The enemy knows it's straight headtop, dead in his clothes
Boom, your head is a hole, why you breddin me for?
When you know you're dead already, but you're beggin a war?
Once again I'mma show you, be ready for sure
But I bet you can't not say 'again' no more
'Cause your vocab's weak, you bocat freak
Don't hate me 'cause you're a coke addict
The joke of the street, broke 'cause what you smoke ain't cheap
But I ain't never told you to do it
Don't hate 'cause niggas sound dope on a beat
And you thought 'cause you hit it would've sold, it went cold
But Dizzee went gold,
You tried fuckin with Sway, he left you on the road
Industry hoe
You were fuckin with Kane but Kane wouldn't let you blow
Now you're fuckin with Scorcher and you can't let him go
Go suck yourself, nah furthermore suck your mum
Your luck's done
Your career's a second man, you've never been one
You was at number two, Dizzee was number one
Then you had it with Ghetts and you never won
And you had it with Devz and you never won
You're feeble, even Lethal won
You been gotten by Dot Rotten, you ain't beat one
About rape, it's not actually that
But your paedophilia's bait, that's actually fact
You pray that we're forgettin' them days when you were wack
When you were Pay-As-You go like Maxwell's flat
Now you've got your whole flat on the crack
Now your baby mizzle's given a little on the smack
You've gotta be high to try me on track
Somebody tell Coki give him his name back
Before I aim at a name brand eight track
That's spitting every MC in the game from way back
How many of my flows have you ate off a tape pack?
You're bait, let me set you straight, you and your gay pack
Look I just wanna know where the safe at
But every time I demonstrate coke he hates that
Putting my name with rape, it ain't that
How you gonna make facts? Don't create that
Look, you can hear the Chip in him alie
The mark of the beast, let the chip in him alie
Chip left, he knew you was tricking him alie
And if you had a chance, you'd put your dick in him alie
Now he's ahead of you you wanna hot Chip?
Fuck off prick, take your pop shit to Hot Chip
You had a top 3 and you lost it
Now you gossip on the internet thinking that the kids like Wotsits
Mad your albums ain't made no profit
And your publicity stunt, you're still a cunt you're silicon
With your subliminals in your vids
Look, kid and play, kid and play, kid and play
Kid and play, shit he's playing with the kids
And he's doing the running man so there it is
He'll be the man running off with your babies
Bare mans from Bow with court cases
Some are studio gangsters you're a studio blogger
When you go for me go in the studio proper
Who cares if you're a chart topper?
Go make a top CD before you talk to your poppa
And don't you worry about Ny, I've got her
I gave her the beat and now she don't wanna touch you
Nah she said you don't wanna touch her
Now she's grown up you don't wanna fuck
You wouldn't even answer her calls she phoned up
She sent emails, Ghetts had your laptop
And there where no bangers in your Mac
Your back never had a shot
'Cause you bun her off at the crack spot
You're Amy Winehouse of grime, you're swine
Swine, why phone up 999?
And say "Emergency, Durrty's spitting rhymes"
Then get shiffed outside a nursery lunchtime but I got
Dozen punchlines, something you can't find, faggot
You're swagger even with my style you lying maggot
You're the pagan, you're Fagin, you're Oliver Twist
The kids follower, and kids honour you
Listen I'ma demolish you
Run in your mums block and piss up in your corridor
You should get gunshot, but snitch is what you're gonna do
This is what you wanna do
Listen till you get cut so you can tell a cop
You and Logan set me up so I can wet you up
You devils wanna see me in jail but better luck
I don't owe Titch fuck, I'm lawless
But you owe Logan's mum a mortgage
She lent you twenty grand so you can expand
Then you went and made Phaze 2 and shit just jammed
Damn, another album down the pan
From Peter Pan fooling the kids to Neverland
Give me a reason why I should make your life live
I remember when you tried to touch Ice Kid
You was even sending for me when I was on a bid
I've been out three years you're just now taking digs
If you weren't swaggin' it, you could've been Giggs
If you weren't a faggot, you could've been big
But I knew you were low from you could make your own
Cousin served you bone, leave it alone
I done a set and you left your baby at home
I ain't gotta chase you like Jerome with the chrome
I'm getting chased by your baby mother she's a hoe
Every nigga I know has boned it in Bow
And you should've waited for Amber to come out her Pamper
Before you went and tampered, you're cancer
We're not in the same league and I gave you the transfer
That's why you take E's and spread propaganda
You're lucky this ain't yard you'd be getting shot on your veranda
Would you want me to be an E3 shanker?
Tiger nah panda, look you're pink panther
You're just a panto -mime and a dancer
A cock sucker with a cheek
You've linked Mark Ronson and you was off beat
When Rolex came out the charts was weak
And your dubs weren't as hard as the bars on the suite
Wicked man's a grasses and you spit fast
But this is like picking on a man with glasses
Some of you say that I should take it to the road
But you're lyrically garbage
I will kick you in your rahtid
Go away, you're a delay (delay, delay)
Copying everything I say (say, say)
You went from OK to wack, coke to crack
You fucked up grime, made it cool to cat
Fact: you're a serial deal wrecker
Dizzee brang you now he don't respect ya
I can say the word crack and upset ya
When I was in the bing, you were Jessica Fletcher
You're paying off of your Bentley to Bionic
He works with Kane and you work with Kane
So to help pay it off you made a verse exchange
But the verse weren't flames 'cause you weren't cursing names
Merked again this is what I call burnt remains
Jerk you're lame putting in work and getting shamed
Say what you're saying, it don't hurt Dwayne
Now when I'm the booth I hurt the game
You ain't worth your chain but I'm taking the Mickey
'Cause you satisfied Riko and got a boy sending
Boy Better Know don't defend him
He's even got a rat 'round his neck representing
Cartoons with no bars in his tunes
And his MySpace's spaced out like Mars on the Moon
There's only two men in the world that love Mickey Mouse
You and Michael Jackson, let's kick him out
Kick him out, you're chatting up minors
You're a big man and you're rapping 'bout tigers
Fans par you, you argue 'who are you?'
Mans ran up in your studio and scarred you
You're behind so get sober man
You released your summertime jam in October, damn
Retired one time like Hova, thought he was the man
Still couldn't sell to his fans
Jumped on your Nightbus, shit broke down
You've been provoked by Ultradope Sound
Okey doke clown, there's no coke around
You're called Cokey now, you call coke your pal
Wow, you jacked a hit, made a hit shit
I bet you couldn't spit with Griminal, he's sick
You've only got 8 bars of bare quick shit
Wow
The best beat you made you never vocalled it
That's why you're remaining local you're a prick
Go hide behind your vocoder you dick
You're a producer, off beat
You need to get on your computer and get off street
Look now, 50/50 cost heaps
I Am Nature, now you've lost me
I smoke and I roll Marijuana 'cause I'm an MC
You heard it and wrote I Am The Sea
So what are you smoking that had you floating?
Oh yeah yeah we know, it's a coke ting
Chart charts chart chart, but did it chart Will?
You chat chat about charts, did it chart Will?
You had a single, yeah but that was fart Will
And your album never made top thousand
Clash done, right there that's an outcome
You're shit I'm sick I'm a loud one
And I've got a passport are you allowed one?
Aye listen I'm a black man and I'm a proud one
What have you done in your life to feel proud of?
All you do is sell out and sniff powder
With Big Dada you did nada
Man should've said you were the kidnapper you ain't a rapper
You're a faker, how you gonna diss Jamaica?
Where you from, Granada?
Flow taker, better save loads of paper
Act like you don't owe the major
You crack addict, you rap erratic
Get back in your lab and make a classic
You've ha-had it, these days are tragic
You ain't really spraying no bars it's all magic
You're mentally scarred as Gadget
Starting war knowing Will I won't have it
Now you're wrapped in plastic
I guess you could call this track a casket
If it really were you that ran the city, bro
Why you looking uncomfortable in your video?
Save your breath you're shaking on sets
Chasing my steps, claiming you're vet
But you ain't a threat, you are insane
I will Usain you and shit on the set
'Cause you ain't done nothing but sniff and sweat
Go suck a dick, step
Your mums got athlete's foot on her neck
You've made 3 dubs I made one and wrecked
Your whole rhyme scheme go talk to Wretch
No offense 32 but this one's stretched
He's a pest that keeps molesting so I put him to the test
If you can fuck with me, come with something fresh
Bring me the luxury, come with nothing less
If it was up to me you'd be shot in your chest
You ain't got bars like me
You couldn't survive behind bars like me
You talk large but it's alright see
I got so many flows you ain't hard Wiley
Nah you're a fraud you can't harm me
I got more bars than your army
You go quiet, put out trash and tell fans go buy it
Are you barmy?
Grime junky, rhyming monkey
Ain't got bars but he shines on funky
You cry monthly, look alive cookie type
Cooking fights with MC's that took his life
Took his wife, took his nine from him and bored him
He don't mind getting stabbed up it's normal
On his grind but he's still not important
Nah you never made grime it was imported
Your mum knows you should've been aborted
You sound distorted
I'm playing with the dead like this is Ouija board
Nah this is what the lord did
You wish I ignored it but this is what you wanted
You want straps to burst in the place
You want me to aim and blow you to waste
Man I still see the work in your face
Or is it 'cause Kano jerked in your face?
Face it you come like a chicken Thai fubu
Always getting moved to, done a little voodoo
'Cause your beats are doo doo your heats are two two
In the streets they're ashamed of what you do
You're a freak you ain't ready for the stage they'll boo you
Boo, you're shook I can see clear through you
Hooked on anything that really don't suit you
And I got better bars so no I won't shoot you
'Cause you beg, you ain't a celeb
Spit your lyric now, don't go brain dead
You're a fool, your little dubs didn't slew me though
Dissing my bro when you're older than Coolio
Cokey you're looney tooney
You're so old you where spitting with Spooney
Your mums skinny, you're from Trini, you bum Billy
That's why your girl come see me it's long really
[Outro]
Suck ya momma!
Cokey The Snowman was written by Durrty Goodz.
Cokey The Snowman was produced by Wiley.
Durrty Goodz released Cokey The Snowman on Tue Jan 06 2009.