| I got more guns than Keanu, from the Matrix, full of lead,
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| And I got more whips, than a dominatrix in bedroom,
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| They make great sounds, and I make pounds,
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| The only time you push a whip, is when your bredrin breaks down,
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| And he’ll be like, «Ay blud, start pushing weight»,
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| Cos he’s seen the car that I bought, from pushing weight,
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| I don’t mean getting hench, on a bench, pushing 40,
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| I’ll be moving weight, to the day i’m pushing 40,
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| I’m a young hooligan, so I don’t need to fight,
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| I’m from Meridian, so I feed the things at night,
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| I’m Nigerian, I represent the green and white,
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| So come to me or Skepta if you want the green or white,
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| You p*icks think that I choose to be hated?,
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| Nah man, i’ve always been musically orientated,
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| I’ve been talented since birth, see how fast this kid learns,
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| You just know when you’ve got it, like when your p*ss burns,
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| Don’t come to my spot and lick shots on your own,
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| That’s as off-point as a shopkeeper on the phone,
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| See if you’ve got a bit of food, and i’m in a bitter mood,
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| You’ll get blown up with a pump, like a inner tube,
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| I’m on point, when a car drives slow on me,
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| If he’s black, drive by, if he’s white, CID,
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| Either way, you’ve gotta run like a greyhound,
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| I’ll go bookies and bet either way on the greyhound,
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| Shotters don’t know you, and they don’t know what you’re like,
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| When shotters want food, they ring me cause i’m like,
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| «What d’you want, Abel, I got bare with me»,
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| You’re like «I'm reloading bruv, please bear with me"shut yuh mout,
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| You’re the type to have an argument and run out and shout,
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| I’m the type, to go round-for-round, bout-for-bout,
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| I’ll win the round and bout, catch me at the roundabout,
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| Cos i’ll be there roundabout, 10, shooting rounds about, so
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| Shut yuh mout
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| D*ckhead, wasteman,
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| Hold tight the engineer, still ain’t got no snare on my headphones, or kickdrum,
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| What you looking at me for blud, stop it if you wanna stop it innit? |