letra de westwood freestyle - skepta
youtube.com/timwestwoodtv
[intro – tim westwood & skepta]
we’re going in! let’s start with a classic…
yo
ah, man…
skepta, boy better know
2010, doin’ it again
turn that beat in my headphones a little bit
alright
dun know, a million views, westwood, legendary
2010, doin’ it again!
alright then, alright then
yo, listen
alright, skepta, yo
[verse 1]
come let me go, let me start off
boy better know – that’s the team i’m part of
you man have-
yo, u-
working your ass off
the tomtom said i’m getting to my destination in four hours
i said, “tomtom, look at the car, calculate that again, then, take half off”
’cause the car’s way too much
i breeze off with the lightest touch
a pedal for the brakе, pedal for the accelеrator
but no pedal for the clutch
tiptronic and auto cuz, i get more money, i buy more stuff
them mcs are like having s-x when i’m drunk
they’re never gonna buss
this little piggy thinks i don’t wanna bring him
’cause i got beats i don’t wanna give him
boy better know making a k!lling
so i don’t wanna sit up on the riddim with him
life used to be hard but now i can’t lie, man are sitting in my front room just chilling
everybody laughing, smiling, grinning
‘dem man are losing, us man are winning
this little piggy thinks that i weren’t robbing
that i never had food and i weren’t shotting
alright, let’s get this ting popping
one skeng, one bullet and i put it on him
life used to be hard but now i can’t lie man are like, “wagwarn, let’s go shopping”
boy better know, still chart-topping
forget a red light, manaman ain’t stopping
this little piggy thinks he’s scary
told him, not a lot of things scare me
i’m in the mirror screaming bl–dy mary
with all the bl–dy mandem right near me
my man are united like giggs, i will never leave my young gunners like thierry
wow, that metaphor’s scary
let me say that again, listen up
i said my man are united like giggs, i will never leave my young gunners like thierry
sometimes i think man can’t hear me
since early, number 1, sincerely
lyrically, there’s n0body near me
i’m a beast, look at my arms, they’re hairy
in a party, i spit loud, clearly
it goes off, trust me the flow’s dairy
this little piggy thinks that i like him
that i listen to his songs and i bite him
somebody better advise him, stop piping the white ting on a hype ting
i don’t know what makes them think i think about their swag bars when i’m writing
them man over there ain’t vibsing
you do your ting, i do my ting
this little piggy thinks that he’s on it
’cause he got a cd full of greaze on it
i’ll put p’s on it
every last penny in my lv wallet
[interlude – tim westwood]
man, skepta in the building!
[verse 2]
listen!
this one’s dangerous
marley, meridian production
okay, listen
this little piggy thinks that he’s on it
full of greaze on it
i’ll put p’s on it
every last penny in my lv wallet
’til i stop breathing, but chilling in the hood don’t make me profit
a lot of these mc’s make me vomit
you talk about real but you’re far-
they wanna criticise skepta, but i got one question
can you do better?
always ready, bet you a tenner
you’re not sure like english weather
wanna see an action replay of lord of the mics 2
then just write me a letter
i’m heavyweight, you’re light like a feather
the microphone champion forever
mc’s wanna diss my baby mum
you’re so lucky that i don’t have a child
swear to god, i would’ve gone wild
buss a man’s face off the bathroom tile
i don’t wanna battle rap with man no more
you must think that we’re in 8 mile
manna get mad, jeremy kyle
i give a man a chelsea-
how dare you chat about my unborn kid
anyhow, i see another youtube vid
bare wickedness that man have gwarn with
buss a man’s face off the toilet lid
every other lyric chatting ’bout bun an informer
but everybody knows what you did
i said rahtid
my man’s rolling with the sids
f the police, i see through them
they bring guns and drugs into the country
then, lock me up if i use them
like tempa i’m shouting ‘slew dem’
you’re looking for the wrong person
lock up the sergeant that’s linking up with the german
the same sergeant that’s got the world scared of a man in a turban
as long as them lot act the fool
god forgive me if i buss my tool
i’ll break any law, break any rule
i’ll tell a fedman, don’t take it out on me
’cause you was a chief at school
and man punched out your t–th at school
and now you wanna talk like a bad boy
i’m laughing out loud, l-o-o-o-o-l, lol
always ready!
[interlude – tim westwood]
oh! smashed it, kid!
[verse 3]
let me go in, let me go in
listen! tim westwood, skepta
i was like how can i be stupid?
i got my walkman in my top pocket
my headphones going into my blazer sleeve
you think i’m resting my head on my hand
nah fam, i’m listening to music
but you didn’t know what i was doing
i’m on the ball like patrick ewing
you better not get out your chair
’cause when you come back you’ll be sitting in the gum i’m chewing
i kept acting a fool ’til i left school
with one gcse, scr-w-ng
hit the road-
l- yo
i got a little buzz
and left the road for my supporters that showed me love
alright, verse 2
alright, alright
junior
aka joseph adenuga, left school with one gcse
self-raising flour, two eggs and a ruler
i went home straight to the computer
my mum told me to turn it down
a couple years later, i’m in the jeweller
picking up stuff that i only dreamed about being able to afford
i bought my dad a brand-new car
straight off the showroom floor, it weren’t a porsche
but it meant the same thing to him
stop smiling dad, jump in the thing
emotional, i wanna cry
my eyes tingling
see, they wanna know how i’m on the way to a mil’
but still, i keep it so real
okay, i’m ready to answer the question
no deal
just me and sam – that’s a good team
right now, i’m living the hood dream
me, ghetts, giggs and c
repping the uk at the bet
and tinchy stryder once told me
“skepta, play the game but break the rules
even if it’s a fist fight, take a tool
even if it’s one per person, take it all”
’cause n0body’s praising boy better know for getting off the ground
so i ain’t jumping off my high horse anytime soon ’cause it’s just too far down
and i can hear man saying skepta’s gonna fall off, oxymoron
i run onto the grime mc pitch and kick the ball off, what
it’s skepta the listeners wanna hear more of
you had a little buzz but it wore off
i don’t wanna hear no talk about sawn-off
i kick the door off
run up in the house like “god forgive me if i hurt any children”
can’t take me for paris hilton
you better know i’m a tottenham temple soldier
hold tight mr. wilson
call me a lyrical author
i specialise in lyrical slaughter
and if you think he’s better than me
then you ain’t got taste like water
no matter how hard you try to
you can never make duppy like i do
any way you wanna hide i’ll find you
do i have to remind you that i’m on a one-man ting?
but i got a big family like patel and singh
so when i go make me a duppy
n0body knows who boyed off the ting
they’re like “skepta, what’s popping?”
so i told them “ace of spades, me, scholar, rapid and gracious k”
treat the champagne like a mac-10
when i get hold of it i pop it off and spray
plus my cousin dwight just come outta jail
so i’m celebratin’ today
i’m like “hip-hip hooray”
i won’t stop
i cleaned up with a broom and a mop
and now i got ibs on my intestines feeling like it’s tied in a knot
tim, it must be all the champagne
i’m a dan like marc and zane
heavy-weight champion so you know i had to get frank warren on my album campaign
a lot of money’s exchanging accounts
i’m talking ’bout stupid amounts
all your cheques are like a basketball
they bounce
you man are air like michael jordan
better still you man are like rodman
big shout to my bruddas in tottenham
that love me like they love game in compton
yo, it’s joseph
i get dough, bread, hovis
plus, me and my paper stick together like sticha and otis
girl better know, boy better know this
i bought an r6, got chased by the boydem and got shift
i got a fine and a 6-month driving ban, so i sold it
fam-a-lam, i’m fine
boy better know is the label, i’m already signed
i’m the reason anyone over 25 still listens to grime
yeah, take that to heart
my ears burning from the talk in the yard
“n-nah man, i don’t like grime but you see that guy skepta, he’s hard”
nah, you can’t do it like me
part-time criminal, full-time mc
feds wanna lock up the ic3
because i don’t play like a blank cd
it’s the way that i am with the women
i merked every single dance that i’ve been in
commercial artist, still one of grime’s hardest
stuck in the middle like sandwich filling
brap! boy better know
[outro – tim westwood]
oh, man!
oh man, you just set some levels, dawg
you said a ton! hahaha
oh, man! oh, man!
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