F64

[Verse]
I put my heart in the beat
A lot of MCs wanna target my dreams
But they can’t, because their bars are garbage and weak
And they’re not anywhere near hard as half of a seat
D-Dem man are air
But still, I can’t even breathe
Fulfill my bars in a speech
I feel like Martin Luther
I star the future, because I’m just dream
Ready to get slept on, they love to lie
Only do it where your beds been crept on
I’ve lost my mind, head gone, ain't got the time
I watch my own hand, yes, I’m always on one
I got no work, leave them amazed
Now they got no words
Watch them birds Tweet, they say I’m sick
Mi nah need no doc, no nurse
And me shape and dem gyal ah got no curves
Better get to the gym, 'cuz I’m destined to win
If they wanna bar fight, then I’m next in the ring
I’ma murder the beat
Threat I’ma kill when I get to the field
With the farm with the sheep
I’m a leader, I rather stop to defeat
I’m a Sargent for the army, march and compete
I’m a boss, fully recharge my artillery
I’ma charge to ya team
Every mic I’m on gets beat, kinda like Michael’s song
I flex with the best now, find a spot
I swoop down like an eagle, Lyle and Scott
And everybody thinks they’re animals, but I am the shark
Make sure your head straight, or I’ll iron the top
It weren’t hard to get their ears, I just get my Mike Tyson on
Get it?
Or maybe your brain's slow
You’re way behind a hole
If a MC wants it, then they can get it in the mornin'
Something like J. Cole
I told the haters, they know to stay low
I’ma have to take them out, no date show
I’m over their heads, rainbow
So just lighten up, cake soap
Learner, teacher, if you wanna murk I’ma burn a heater
Take 'em off the mic
Don’t let me turn 'em to Ike
I’m a haffi Turner to Tina
Make them spin round like a ballerina
Leave 'em leanin', tower of Pisa
Some gyal are, like, half similies
So gimme a intro like the start of da beat
Like
Dum-dum, dum-dum-dum dum dum
Dum-dum, dum-dum-dum, ha-ha-ha-ha
You must be dumb, dumb-dumb-dumb
Eat up the beat like nam-nam-nam-nam-nam-nam-nam
I am the don-don-don-don from Brum
I’m not from London, don-don-don-don
Man down, bruk up, rum-pum-pum-pum-pum-pum
Gyal ah act Ashley Young, Young, Young, Young, Young
They act too much Fabregas
Used to be so much Gascoigne
I aim for my goals and achieve
'Cuz I’m upfront strike any gyal with a match
I’m heading to my destination and that’s final
I make the crowd jump like a scratched vinyl
They’re gonna know that I am back spinal
It's gonna get messy, ask Lionel
But it's not as fun
These games like a race that I’ve already finished
So I’ma keep runnin' it, Forrest Gump
They will get spun like Sonic does
I’ma school you college pucks
You can see I stand out like porridge lumps
You keep sayin' that you all for the success
Deep down if you really want it come
And I know some YouTube comments are gonna say
"Get to the kitchen and make me a sandwich!"
Who do you think I am? Gordon Ramsey?
You will get dressed, Maxi
You must be drunk, stop pourin' Brandy
You said you came with ya dogs: better off callin' Lassie
Or keep your mouth shut like the doors of a taxi
You got too much lip, Jay-Z
And his album I bought
Some gyal act way to vain
Runnin' up, clap like a round of applause
Clap, clap, clap
Left 'em in a state, but you don’t count as a broad

[Outro]
Ha-ha!
SBTV, the entrepreneur!