JME

Nang
Oi, how did man get that whip? Buss up the mic and spit Oi, how did man get that yard? Mash up the mic, go hard Oi, oi, how did man get on stage? Pick up the mic and spray Oi, how did man get that far? What?! Bruck up the mic with bars Nang, going on nang Nang, them man are going on nang Nang, going on nang Nang, them man are going on nang You know when I step on the mic I do this ting You man better get on your bike and move in sync If you never believe man will start rinsing I don't give a shit and I might even convince him Don't approach me when I'm eating I don't wanna listen to what man is teaching Man are going crazy asking me bullshit All I hear, ring-ding-ding-ding-ding! When I step in the dance they got questions So bait, I wanna ask where's the restroom Halfway through the answer man's gobsmacked Like I weren't clocking you glancing at Skepta Letras de cancionesI clock you before you clock me In my black top like I said in 'That's Not Me' Kick down an apple and pears and that's cockney On stage man are scared, they can't stop me, what! Nang, going on nang Nang, them man are going on nang Nang, going on nang Nang, them man are going on nang So, what? Fam, I'm sick of these, pussyoles in this industry Man's got batteries put in his back and then they wanna speak up instantly Mandem are making history You man can't do shit to me When you see me I got the same energy but you ain't saying nuttin' like Mr Bean What, yeah, man I move too sick Fifteen years deep you man ain't on shit Games in my hand fam and I've gone switch Come for the ball, get a panna on pitch Try take the piss since manna got rich? Get a reality check I'll wake him up quick Can't call yourself a grime MC if you can't come radio, stand up and spit Oi, how did man get that whip? Buss up the mic and spit Oi, how did man get that yard? Mash up the mic, go hard Oi, oi, how did man get on stage? Pick up the mic and spray Oi, how did man get that far? What?! Bruck up the mic with bars Nang, going on nang Nang, them man are going on nang Nang, going on nang Nang, them man are going on nang I don't take back chat or disrespect, I already know the gang and I'm suttin' like Big Fris Fuck the opps, it's their loss, I cut them off How could I get pissed off, bodies get ticked off I hope you brush your teeth, before you talk about the big boss Brand new bed sheets, covered in your wifey's lip gloss You was at the top but you slipped off They hate the way I took what's mine Fucked off, came back, took some more, fucked off again Turned Shoreditch into a cunch spot, and I got more sauce in the dutch pot I do the producing, do the booth, I do the bouncing Funny guy, couldn't be me you're clowning Ten summers at the top and I'm still counting Said they don't rate me but when I bring out a new riddim they're listening Tryna find out who did the mixing, what was MsM Engineer thinking? Yeah, we was in the studio, doing up greatness You was on Insta, doing up shameless Peng ting, said she had enough of the fake-ness Told me she loves the way that I don't beg friend with any of them Nang, going on nang Nang, them man are going on nang Nang, going on nang Nang, them man are going on nang Nang, going on nang Nang, them man are going on nang Nang, going on nang Nang, them man are going on nang From Letras Mania