Grime-a-Side 2017 Semi-Final: Bristol vs. Manchester

First Half

[Intro: Jay0117]
Yeah
Red Bull
Semi Finals
Bris' to the world
Yeah, yeah
Come on
Now I gotta
Now I gotta

[Verse 1: Jay0117]
Now I gotta clash man again, that's awfully long
These man take hits, not toking the bong
XP, please admit that you're ginger
Stop telling gyal you're strawberry blond
Or auburn, all your mumzys should've had abortions
Just take that as a caution
Fiascoo said that his family's schitz
I guess you're better off an orphan
Done with the talking, bruddah, just forfeit
You're fat, you're ginger and you're shit
Man ah get slapped for thinking that you're sick
That's crack you sprinkle in your spliff
So if it's war, know that I'm involved
Should've sent Bugzy Malone or Chimpo
Could've sent Liam or Noel, gingers don't have souls
So you really can't win, bro

[Verse 2: XP]
I make man in a rave flash lighters
Them man stand in the rave, drink ciders
Three little farmers chatting 'bout violence
Nobody round here thinks you're riders
Big man ting when I touch West Country
Tune with Jakes, got a tune with Buggsy
Eskimo Dance, backstage comfy
Didn't see you man once, that's fuckery
Don't even know man, still gotta diss them
Make man dive on the floor like Klinsmann
Can't forget my bars like who?
Man can't forget my bars like Dimpson
X on mic, not bad for a ginger
Press your girl, like Bash, I'm a sinner
Murk MCs, that's what I'm inna
How you gonna jump in a clash with a winner?
You're a pussy

[Verse 3: RagoLoco]
Dead man time
First, Jay0117
Little loner, no one don't bell him
You talk 'bout line in country
Must be the money you're selling
'Cause all the drugs you're tekking
Coke and gack got you cold sweating
Bun some trees, try bunning cheese
And you think you're repping?
And you two
I'mma call you Miss The Drop and Flop
Big men but you still get sent shop
Sidemen, coleslaw, corn on the cob
You're not mic men, you're just knobs
Rhyming but your timing is off
You be the reason Bristol lost
Double your score because you're washed

[Verse 4: Double]
Yeah, I spin guys, lift guys, who are these guys?
Clothesline XP in his windpipe
XP, try get silly and bright
Get slumped in the ring like Dillian Whyte
No iPhone, no flipping up rhymes
Spin this guy like a million times
XP looks like the kind of wise guy
That I serve in the flat for a [?] white
Ragzy looks like a wannabe dyke
Ragzy looks like he's getting outshined
RagzLoco, Ragz or RagzFari
Ragz, fam, you look like you're bunning on spice
Dem boy don't wan' tek it outside
Fiascoo, he's got a funny hairline
Dem boy looking like the feminine type
Probably wear G-string, legging and tights

[Verse 5: Fiascoo]
Red Bull
I thought this was supposed to be three-against-threes
They've got one, two, three, four, five
Like eleven MCs
Jay, I think Dimpson
He ate all your garlic bread and your cheese
The workers know him on first-name terms
At KFC and McD's
When Jesus fed the five thousand
You're so glad that you weren't there
And when you die
You're fucked 'cause there ain't any room up there
Jay, when you say "wah gwan"
You do know that that comes from yard?
But you know that you come from farm
You just look like Nutty Professor

[Verse 6: Dimpson]
Loco, tell a boy go home
You can hold two-two straps in your throathole
That's not a German whip, that's a Volvo
Heard XP's in love with the coco
Now let me move straight onto Fiascoo
Taken two bills and straight [?]
I can't believe you got past Glasgow
Send Manny back with a chain in your asshole
So, sit down when I'm teaching the class
There ain't no way you'll leave with a pass
You're gassed like e-on, know when I see one
Us man are P1, you man are [?]
So, fuck your city, fuck Manchester
You was outside tryna beg for a [?]
XP, you look like a police inspector
Us man are R1's, you man are Vespas, yeah

Second Half

[Verse 7: XP]
XP, I'm a Lord of the Mic
Jay, I'll break your jaw with the mic
You're not bad, you're on a hype
Your dad's smoking raw in a pipe
Bristol man don't hold no guns
They know me, I don't know those bums
Dun talkin' like Kojo Funds
Go home, suck all three of your mums
Yeah, 'bout 017
I'll punch your head in, come through shelling
Might shank man up, there's no telling
My man's wack, Dimpson's shegging
Jump in the war, get clarted, standard
Big time forward, darg, step backwards
Best go back to your farm and tractors
Man are OT like Marcus Rashford
Bazz, bazz, bazz

[Verse 8: Jay0117]
When I heard "Manny man"
I thought I was clashing Shifty
Soon as Red Bull turned on the lights
XP started banging on Factor 50
Get back to the shade 'cause your back's peeling
You man love crack and you lack eating
Fiascoo's a paranoid schizo, more than a bit slow
That's why your dad's leaving
I might just leave him alone
He's already told Snooch that he's a fan of me
If Fiascoo really wanna war
You better be sure I'll go schitz like your family
After the clash, might ram Loco in the boot
And drive man right back to the gallery
XP's gyal loves bunning on food
When I say food, not chatting 'bout calories, murked

[Verse 9: RagoLoco]
This prick can't diss Rags
I've got your wife licking on my ballbag
I just get hench and you tend to shag
"Ayy, Julie, get a couple of cans, you slag"
She ain't boujee or bad
Got you on curfew like you're on tag
Bloody pussy, call you Tampax
You two should've stayed in your gaff
But this fat Sambo came for the free Nando's
Damn craving
And you should change your occupation
Shittest MC in the nation
Sound like special education
Got problems with immigrations
So you're gonna get sent back
With your backpack full of humiliation

[Verse 10: Double]
This time round, let me start with the captain
And let me start up a mad ting, Fiascoo's a has-been
Even [?] had you planking
This Red Bull clash, he's going in a casket
Likkle dead MC
Fuck this nigga and fuck XP
XP looking like he injects speed
While Ragzy's looking like a fake Prez T
You three don't rep your ends properly
Your hairline's in a next country
Fiascoo's looking all stiff and stuck in his tracksuit
Looking like a sted MC
Like Footsie, they don't wanna war with me
Come up on your ends, catch corn and leave
Dem man don't wanna hear stories
Dem man really are boring, G

[Verse 11: Fiascoo]
Bristol
I'm so glad that you all shown up
And you've brought on the fat kid from Boyz N the Hood
But now he looks all grown up
Jay, before you start bringing it up
Yeah, I am a little nuts
But your girl's still in my DMs
Saying us black boys, we've got the bigger nuts
First time that you met her
You was blazing a zoot [?]
Pull down her knickers, she pulled out your pecker
You decided to lick her
She gave you a dick measure
And she said the zoot was all thicker
So, she belled Dimpson
And he said he'll be round right after his dinner

[Verse 12: Dimpson]
And it's D-I-M
What you know about D-I-M?
I'm a real mic man, let me tell them again
Sent Manny straight back to the Stretford end and it's
D-I
I don't know about these guys
You don't know about D-I
Loco's looking all de-hyped
So I control that, snap your neck
You back so bad, get a slap to the neck
When I spit bars, better have some respect
Come back for the sesh
And I don't wanna hear no talk about Grim
You'll get headbutts just like him
Talking 'bout burst, bussing the ting
Don't you think that you ain't gonna win?

[Outro: Jay0117 & RagoLoco]
Manny, win, vote
It's all mad
You're going home, you're going home, you're going
Bristol, yeah
Bristol's going home, going home, you're going home, you're going
Allow all that bullshit talk
Bristol's going home
Bristol to the world
0161
Don't listen to no wasteman
RagoLoco, man