| Big up my mum, my dad, my brother, my sister, skepta | |
| Hold tight wiley | |
| Boy better know | |
| See I got bare labels phoning me but | |
| Cash point ain't showing me no love | |
| Everyone's got my tunes on their phone | |
| And the cd in the pc at home | |
| Is packed with all of the tunes I've done | |
| But my wallet ain't saying one | |
| You think I'm making mad p | |
| All right! My money is angry with me | |
| It took me five years to get 10 A to C's | |
| But in five days I get 10 AC's | |
| Somebody out there please tell me | |
| What I'm'a do with my uni degree? | |
| I don't want a job | |
| Blud I swear down | |
| I just wanna be a big mc | |
| Or something along them lines | |
| Swear on my life | |
| Music means so much to me | |
| Getting a degree to me is like a plan B | |
| It will mean so much to my family | |
| But understand me | |
| JavaScript makes me wanna swear like Plan B | |
| I know it'll come in handy | |
| I stick with it even when I get angry | |
| And I'm not on my own | |
| I got a brother in this music game like Brandy | |
| He knows how much music means to me | |
| We're just trying to make money legally | |
| I know guys that'll creep in your house | |
| Go upstairs | |
| Open your safe and steal a g | |
| That sounds like quick p to me | |
| But still I travel on c-c | |
| And WAGN | |
| And Silverlink | |
| Everything's not what it seems to be | |
| You think I'm stupid | |
| Move on | |
| Stereotype me | |
| I'll prove you wrong | |
| Ask anybody that knew me ages ago | |
| They'll say I had my head screwed on | |
| Yeah JME that guy he's cool | |
| Trust me blud, he went to my school | |
| He made me a ring tone once | |
| It was like Eskimo mixed into Oldschool | |
| To this day, I still ain't changed | |
| JME, music in his veins | |
| Same face, same deranged | |
| Thoughts coming through the speaker each day | |
| Mum still shouting turn down the bass | |
| Bredrins lounging around the place | |
| I don't smoke but my room's smoked out | |
| Can't see my hand in front of my face | |
| As if I'm in a time capsule | |
| My pockets are still filled with shrapnel | |
| Only difference, some of it's Euros | |
| I've been travelling, capital to capital | |
| I've been nuff countries I swear | |
| One day I'm a write them all down | |
| If you turn the clock the back 2 years | |
| I don't think I'd have even left town | |
| But still I used to make hits | |
| I was blessed with a lyrical art | |
| The other mc's, they weren't shit | |
| But they come like lyrical farts | |
| And they stunk, I used to hate them | |
| See nowadays I rate them | |
| Not cause I think that they're down | |
| But for simply sticking around | |
| The bars are right, they're like red bull | |
| Trust blud, I got a whole shedfull | |
| Yeah sometimes I can be a hot head | |
| But more time my head's cool | |
| When I'm a hot head I don't get lyrical | |
| I get serious, lyrically physical | |
| I start shouting stuff like derkhead | |
| And people think it's really cool | |
| In the mc rank I'm a piss take | |
| Yeah blud I'm way before fifth place | |
| JME, everyone saw his face | |
| See now I've got about four mixtapes | |
| Trust me I know you're playin em | |
| And all of my lyrics you're sayin em | |
| Even your girl says Shuhut your mouth | |
| There's no escaping it's blatant | |
| Yo blud man better know | |
| No one test with the dibby dibby flow | |
| Flow round here on the mic I'm a pro | |
| Professional in the game and you know | |
| All this war and clash is trash | |
| I'll make a tune or bore some gash | |
| Don't get rude | |
| I said don't get rude | |
| Or I will singe your tache | |
| Yo blud stand over there | |
| Dare you attempt to swear | |
| Swear down I'll burn your ear | |
| Ere what blud you know I don't even care | |
| All this push out your chest is late | |
| I did that in 1998 | |
| Don't get rude | |
| I said don't get rude | |
| Or I will phlegm in your face |
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