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<inside. the. |
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Medasyn. camp.> <yes. |
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MCs. state. your. identity.> -- |
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Frost P! -- |
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Zuz. --SOV, |
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Lady Sovereign. -- |
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Shystie! <let. the. battle. commence.> [FROST P] |
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Yo, Medasyn star. |
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Plus the prodigal son, |
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Zuz Rock. |
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Den, I will do. |
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Yo. See I'm a man who only chats realness |
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F*** being like most dese kids who chat sh*t |
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Suck record company dick. |
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Frost P, I keep it gutter. |
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Still bills |
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I'm payin', still for meals |
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I'm prayin' |
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In the meanwhile, |
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I stayed me and wait, |
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De life ain't great, |
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But's better than the jobs from state, |
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For makin' it, mate, |
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Just a Q and |
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A. Still ghetto wit de mind of a needle quicker than a cheetah, |
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Draw nine millimeter up. |
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Grab a man's chain |
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If I get shifty, never in vain |
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Ain't life, but |
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I stay in de game |
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Yeah the prodicial's the same "Ain't we all a little ?" |
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Frame my brain to the game |
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N*gga blow the whistle (tweet) [ZUZ ROCK] |
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Same issue, |
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I move like a video on jerk. |
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Steady, walk forward in my |
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Timberland boots |
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And I still ready to shoot, you need proof? |
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Show it any time f*ck a label, |
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I never get signed! |
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More time, |
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N*ggas wanna leave me behind. |
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Tell me to put my name on de dotted line. |
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Ya find, the way |
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I am contracts to de street |
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Come around, will you? |
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In the last two weeks, you're too weak. |
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I still represent |
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Hays Town. |
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Though it's my proximity, my boy face down. |
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Murder mans, |
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N*ggas fast like a greyhound |
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Quick to run in the bank, and tell ya lay down. |
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Style to the manner, got a place in the manor |
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Like a 38, always come back to the man-ner. |
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That's grammar. |
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Use it punk, big like de clumps. [SHYSTIE/SOV] |
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Yo, this is |
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Shystie . . . |
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Yeah, SOV, |
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Lady Sovereign, and what |
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Shystie. Let's take dese boys out, yah? |
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I'm on it, boy-eh |
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Let's battle |
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Show dese guys what we're worth, rude boy, ' |
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Cos I know, see, |
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I can spit |
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Let's show dem. |
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A'right! [SOV] |
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Yo, dere's suttin, |
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I got one bad habit, |
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When those streets step to me, |
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I won't have it, ' |
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Specially people like you and you and you |
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Dat's okay, now when |
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I come through |
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Come up de light's in de low power, |
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Remember de time when you got slaughtered, |
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Beef? Cos' no, it's just an argument |
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Words they is jerkin' in de |
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House of Parliament. |
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Wid out de words, wid out de verbs |
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Little boys left on de kerb. |
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People, lift dem up before dey get hurt. |
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But their heart rate stop (beeep) |
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When they have just learned |
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Dat I'm above de flow |
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Leave yer mind in high-low |
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Like de center of a polo, push |
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Can't enter his height when |
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I'm so low, |
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Yah, yeh don't know, so -- |
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None a yer words can hurt me, fool. |
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None a yer comebacks mean f*k, fool. |
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Nuffin' you say can hurt me, fool. |
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I feel bad, pity for you. |
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Rue the lack of sense. |
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That's yer ish-ing the bestest |
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Where yer car? harhar! |
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A domestic life |
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Devil promotion of sickness (hwack) |
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I'll spit this |
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Anyone listenin' is a witness. |
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Helpless lady -- |
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I never written dis. |
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Let's get on wid de quick busi-ness. |
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S.O.V. that darn lyricist can get us dis? -- |
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No. Hup-two-three-four, |
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I'm goin' to war, |
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To win and leave the runner-up sore. (ow!) |
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I'm raw, like uncooked meat, |
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That's why |
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I'm in de hole, |
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Dat why I flak it, |
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I'm a treat -- |
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I'm deep. |
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But my face looks sweet! |
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Sweet enough to fool yeh 'bout my greed. |
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Waltz it to where dem don't sleep, |
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Yaeh, now creep! [SHY/SOV CHORUS] [x2] |
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Yo, lissen up to |
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Sovereign and me, |
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Shystie! The |
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Meda camp's deep, and they never stopped we |
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Spittin' lyrics in your face, you can't keep up de pace |
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So you don't wanna f*ck wiv our side, fool! [SHYSTIE] |
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Ha! So, let's show dese boys what time it is. |
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I'm showin' you, |
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Dey don't know about how us gurrls spit, yeh. |
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Let's show dem how we keep it real. |
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Let's show dem what de deal is. |
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Let's show dem what time it is. |
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It's Shystie! |
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Let's go! |
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Oi! 'ey, lissen up, |
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Don't get f*cked up |
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I go through |
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PMS, My mood swings leave |
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N*ggas in a state of distress. |
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I'm the lyrical |
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Shakespeare thou shall never test thou |
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Doesn't spit about a rattle man's chest |
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I called the |
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N*ggers in, and goes if dere was a circle |
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Yeah! -- play, boy, but |
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I know my swivin' hurt you. |
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I take you for a joke, so you get laffed at (haha) |
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Yer a basic |
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MC, boy. I'm done -- past it. |
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Cos' my microphone sample is in de silence, |
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Leaving, yeh suddenly need stabilizers. |
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You wanted to battle me like an idiot. |
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But I'll show everyone (sure!) here dat yerr not ready yet. |
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I'll leave you body wrapped, body bagged, in a closed hearse. |
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Leff it in de church, can |
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I really get worse? |
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Cannot rilly know dat |
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I jes silly caught, seen me |
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But I'm still here, cos' |
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I move like the wind. |
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Goin' to make havoc -- spit til |
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I choke. How could anyone ever better me for a joke. |
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See de tick-tock? on de body clock, |
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I put it on stop. |
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If you wanna come and drop a lyric, there is no top. |
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But if you had it, you still couldn't rhyme |
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You still couldn't write (nah) in beat to dis time |
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So you never get close enough to me to attack. |
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You take two steps forward, but three steps back. |
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Cos' I'm daily separatin' mens day out day in, |
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Leaving them with no self-esteem, meditating and don't think of it, |
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Unless its how |
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I'll make you lose your confidence. |
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Even how you spittin on dis track is never-never lan'. |
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Your sh*t you. can't. spit. and. it's. better. dat. you. quit. leave. it. to |
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Shystie. that. spits. hot toxic. but -- you may be heavy still ya know... yeah! right! hah hah! [SHY/SOV CHORUS] [x2] |
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Yo, lissen up to |
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Sovereign and me, |
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Shystie! The |
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Meda camp's deep, and they never stopped we |
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Spittin' lyrics in your face, you can't keep up de pace |
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So you don't wanna f*ck wiv our side, fool! [FROST P] |
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Yo! This is it! heh hah haa! |
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The beef's kickin' off now! (s'fun now) |
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Frost P! Bruce |
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Grove N17. |
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Z-U! Let's take down these duck birds. (nice) |
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Yo, I used both of dese girls mouth |
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Like pick-up sex in a condom de beef is on. |
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And your Miss |
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Dynamite Impressions ain't botherin' no one. |
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So thanks but nah. |
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Get yer own slogan! |
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Take that! |
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Matter of fact, get off de track. |
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I'm too class to go back-to-back |
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Wiv your average hood-rats. |
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What you know about markin' yer game |
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Up yer walls? |
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Nuffin. Spittin crap at yer sympathizers. (nuffin!) |
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Treat yeh frauds like |
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Kit-Kat -- "Give 'em a break!" |
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Cos' yer unknown and fake, |
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Cos' yer bound to hate. |
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Dey wanna beee like us!! (I know) |
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But they're featherweight, |
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And I'm a heavyweight. |
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Eatin' MCs like ready-break. |
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If that's the case, imagine what the skets get slapped. |
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Quick and exit. (huh huh) |
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And home it crept. |
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Must be men! ' |
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Cos you had the balls to step in, pretend to rap |
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But you get blazed off de set. |
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Trust if you be |
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Sovereign, |
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I'm Benson and hedges |
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Don't to trust get me like anesthetics. |
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Even wif Gab's compressor, ya still sound lesser. |
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So don't get it twisted, girls -- you aint better. |
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Man, I take down your whole 'hood wiv my four wood. |
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You hear de way |
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I flow, and you really wish you could. |
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Never dat! |
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Too many rhymes, too many lines. |
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For dead amateurs like you, |
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I ain't got de time. |
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Yo! [FROST/ZUZ CHORUS] [x2] |
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Lissen up -- |
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Zuz, Frost |
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P, eyes frosty, |
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Dat Meda camp, kills |
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MCs softly |
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Light Lauren, we buy shots from foreign. |
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And you don't wanna f*ck wiv my side, fool [ZUZ ROCK] heh heh. |
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Yeah, dese gurls can't be serious! |
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Frost, are these gurls serious, man? |
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They better f*kin' reco'nize what time it is, |
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Before we clean their clocks. |
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R-O-Z? -- yep. |
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I spit sick rhymes, my styles |
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Better den yours, times ten. |
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I rhyme couple time, |
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I punish you in line, |
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You could never take |
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Zuz for a spin. |
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These b*tches only better, but |
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I'm tougher dan evah. |
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My vendetta is simply payback |
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Write lyrics wiv no pen, no paper. |
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Haters never prosper. (yep) |
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So get lost like change down the sofa. |
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Gary doesn't matter to me. ' |
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Cos if Shystie is on battlin' me |
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She's ready to see, |
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R.O. is old school |
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Like bullet-hole jeans (whew) -- when de bullet goes in |
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I used to shop work to get a gold fing. |
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Think it's bullsh*it |
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I'm talkin', my fro's clean. |
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Yo, my 'fro's clean, just like the po sheets |
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Better listen up when |
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R.O. speaks. |
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So all of my worrds are hurrrtin' you. |
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And yer both damn, sound like dudes. |
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Why would not you got a better fing to do? |
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Easily kill you hos, |
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I won't lose. |
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ZU-ZU! In the |
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MC game, I put a lame |
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MC to shame. |
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You've only got yourself to blame. |
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Tame your voice when you talk big my sh*t is real |
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I kill your little kids like mornin'-after pills -- |
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So chill. |
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When you walked in, |
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I met ends, it's not happenin'. |
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I still strappin' my nine, |
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I still rappin' part time. |
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Lemme up, |
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I take ye back de old ways. |
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Yeah don't wanna see me take it back to old days -- |
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I favored |
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Frost P like a maniac. (he's great) ' |
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Cos I'm back, |
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I show you where the f*ks izzat. |
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I'm still one of a kind, win de war wiv me? |
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Killed twenty-two (22.) |
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MCs, Dem wanna make it twenty-three (23!). |
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Yo! [FROST/ZUZ CHORUS] [x2] |
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Lissen up -- |
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Zuz, Frost |
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P, eyes frosty, |
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Dat Meda camp, kills |
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MCs softly |
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Light Lauren, we buy shots from foreign. |
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And you don't wanna f*ck wiv my side, fool [SHYSTIE] |
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I'll slew you, hands tied behind my fat*ss |
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No lies, I will even close my eyes. |
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Turn aroun', with my back faced |
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In yer face, switch place. |
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Spit my lyrics in yer face like mace. [SOV] |
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Yo, -------- |
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I pity de fool ---- |
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Light drizle, uh huh. |
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I be de midget in de middle |
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Wot right about now (yo) |
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But can you do a little? [FROST P] |
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Rose, never stoppin'. |
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I called de rolls, twenty years old. |
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I still hop on the bus with a child bus pass. |
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We ain't stoppin for queues we just rush past |
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Educated, but yep, |
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I still bunk class! [ZUZ ROCK] |
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See, I'm renegade. |
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Roll wid de |
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R.O.Z., Plus, we fully stocked wid de nine milli ' |
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Cos we hotter than the sahara desert |
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Afta banned and a filly, |
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I thug jacked |
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Pokemon cards from kiddies. [SHYSTIE] |
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A lotta people know |
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Shystie de renegade, |
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I keep gasses out de bottle, but it's not lemonade. |
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So -- don't get twisted, 'cos |
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I'm not Shy. |
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Give a bad look, get a right hook in yer eye! [FROST P] |
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Fat man dat man |
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I pull scares like anthrax |
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Leave a boy lookin, zip is lips wit' |
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Tampax! Wit my accent, jack all de lime off de track. |
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Make a used door sound like "Oh dear, Maxwell" [ZUZ ROCK] |
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Still -- Huffing and puffing and bluffing |
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And not on a double to nuttin'. |
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I doubled up when |
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I f*cking yer girlfriend, |
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Double the trouble, when |
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I doubled de barrel, |
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R.O. dubbed it, so you won't be into lurin' [SOV] |
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Yeah dont wanna look in my eye, fool! |
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My lyrics see people dat cry, fool! |
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Yeah'll see black and white, |
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Like a black tie ball, so -- [ALL] ** |
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YOU DON'T |
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WANNA F*CK |
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WIV MY SID |
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E, FOOL** |
