[Verse 1: Wiley]
-pable of taking me out
Stabbed fourteen times, I'm still about
I'm still saying I will knock Babycham out
But me against twenty man's out of the question
Buss after twenty man, don't ask questions
Some days I've got something to live for
Other days, blud, I've got nuttin' to live for
I'm not laughing and joking in the war no more
Settle the score, I know the score
Told you already and I told you before
Fist to the jaw in the midst of the war
None of these crews ever roll two-up and do shit
But, me, I do two-man war
For the simple fact I don't care anymore
I'm coming to the fire strapped, not a rebore
Weigh more than your crew if you're stood on a see-saw
You wanna be more? Me, I can see more
Foot to the floor and I'm looking for your mum
Bitch, I banged her once, I got a little itch (Yo)
Mum, she's a fryars, slag from the bits
She's an A-cup, big bum, no tits
Just like you, she's got dry lips
The bitch has got stretch marks on her hips
Show no pity like a Blood or a Crip
Top boy from the bits
And I don't really care about you or your clique
I'm on the path, don't get in the mix
But I've had no choice, now I'm loading six
Put my life on the line, blud, I'm doing fine
Beef is a laugh, all day, every time
Hello, my name's Wiley, I'm grime
I'm shiesty and you won't get beside
-pable of taking me out
Stabbed fourteen times, I'm still about
I'm still saying I will knock Babycham out
But me against twenty man's out of the question
Buss after twenty man, don't ask questions
Some days I've got something to live for
Other days, blud, I've got nuttin' to live for
I'm not laughing and joking in the war no more
Settle the score, I know the score
Told you already and I told you before
Fist to the jaw in the midst of the war
None of these crews ever roll two-up and do shit
But, me, I do two-man war
For the simple fact I don't care anymore
I'm coming to the fire strapped, not a rebore
Weigh more than your crew if you're stood on a see-saw
You wanna be more? Me, I can see more
Foot to the floor and I'm looking for your mum
Bitch, I banged her once, I got a little itch (Yo)
Mum, she's a fryars, slag from the bits
She's an A-cup, big bum, no tits
Just like you, she's got dry lips
The bitch has got stretch marks on her hips
Show no pity like a Blood or a Crip
Top boy from the bits
And I don't really care about you or your clique
I'm on the path, don't get in the mix
But I've had no choice, now I'm loading six
Put my life on the line, blud, I'm doing fine
Beef is a laugh, all day, every time
Hello, my name's Wiley, I'm grime
I'm shiesty and you won't get beside
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