[Intro]
200 bars, SBTV, exclusive, listen
[Verse 1]
Guess who's back from the land of the nomads
Land of the scallywags, land of the toerags
Land where they don't Snapchat and they don't dab
We were fractured to fragments, it's so sad
Guess who's back from the land of the nomads
Land of the scallywags, land of the toerags
Land where they don't Snapchat and they don't dab
We were fractured to fragments, it's so sad
We were captured as chapters in notepads
Where the have-lots robbed from the don't-haves
Where the caps lock's lost in the phone tap
Emojis minus emotion and vocab
Seven years passed, let me parse you for part 2
Never let them tell you what you can or you can't do
They don't know where you stand 'cause they aren't you
Love yourself to the core, even when it's hard to
Cry no more, shout and sing
Violence in silence the loudest thing
They don't know about the power the Shaolin brings
Place a rock for a mountain that outlives him
Like Malcolm did, we are out of sync
And out of time by the sound of things
Arms long like Dhalsim is how to win
Best murder machine gets crowned a king
But what about the voices that can't be heard?
Press barons witch hunt like McCarthy purge
You're lying to yourself, the past seem's worse
'Cause I can get dark, more dark than the dark moor
I can get dark like a dark night in Dartmoor
Dark like Darfur at half-past four
AM, so why you dummies getting daft for?
Not shy to defend it, don't try to prevent this
A mind as tremendous as Einstein or Midas i meant this
I rise from the trenches like vikings
I'm fighting for my independence
My rhymes are relentless
Like a right to your dentures
Your rhymes are as violent as fencing
My rhymes are offensive
As violent as Ghengis through pride and resentment
Misers cry to lament this, how foul could your mouth be?
How could you doubt me?
That's random like a row with a mounty
Or an alchi' driving his Audi to Saudi
Or Bush and Blair making rap albums about peace
You're ready for the rumble, heading for a tumble
Definitely better any veteran among you
They should've told you 'If anybody loves you
With level irrelevance, you will never get above two'
I murk it with ease, burn it indeed
Merge with the beat like the birds and the bees
They want food for thought, I will serve them a feast
Not commercial, believe that I nurtured a niche
Much love to those doing reaction vids
Rap kids act big but are tactic-less
Better off practising mad back-flips
With a bad slipped disc and fractured wrists
Who mastered this? Know what the answer is
Who's got bars that carve to the heart of this?
Regardless, I blame SB for starting this
What's Fire in the Booth to an arsonist?
Guys don't make me rap, guys don't make me rap
Guys don't make me rap, might go crazy at
What's Fire in the Booth to a pyromaniac?
Please bro, he don't need no heat though
What's Fire in the Booth to the dragon Ricky Steamboat
Seven years out, never fear doubt
Any peers proud? Whatever the weather, better clear out
You're a mere mouse, I'm here now to tear down
What you care about bears clout can never compare now
Back worse than ever before, rebel with a cause you could never ignore
If anyone thought, I never dead it with metaphors that were better than yours
I rendered the sentiments simple with source, and dead on the floors
Let them have a bite, but that was bad advice if you fraternise
Know what man-a-man are like when a man on mic
Battles bad as Bannon's like when hes banning guys
Had enough of savage lies getting sanitised
Asinine pantomimes got you paralysed
Got a panoramic mind when I strategise
Agonise, analyse before I spat a rhyme
Merciless mystic, birth as a misfit
Journalistic gift with the verbalist instinct
They heard that I did this, cursed as an infant
But burst with the verse, like the first in existence
Billionaires, they don't want Corbyn in
We nearly are there, hit them with the four-kick spin
They're silly and scared, running on a forfeit ting
Hearing impaired, thinking I'm a Nordic King
We fought the cowards of corporate towers
Tryna force them out the corridors of power
And the taste-makers were sort of sour
Vultures circle, leave your corpse devour
But I'm back now
200 bars, SBTV, exclusive, listen
[Verse 1]
Guess who's back from the land of the nomads
Land of the scallywags, land of the toerags
Land where they don't Snapchat and they don't dab
We were fractured to fragments, it's so sad
Guess who's back from the land of the nomads
Land of the scallywags, land of the toerags
Land where they don't Snapchat and they don't dab
We were fractured to fragments, it's so sad
We were captured as chapters in notepads
Where the have-lots robbed from the don't-haves
Where the caps lock's lost in the phone tap
Emojis minus emotion and vocab
Seven years passed, let me parse you for part 2
Never let them tell you what you can or you can't do
They don't know where you stand 'cause they aren't you
Love yourself to the core, even when it's hard to
Cry no more, shout and sing
Violence in silence the loudest thing
They don't know about the power the Shaolin brings
Place a rock for a mountain that outlives him
Like Malcolm did, we are out of sync
And out of time by the sound of things
Arms long like Dhalsim is how to win
Best murder machine gets crowned a king
But what about the voices that can't be heard?
Press barons witch hunt like McCarthy purge
You're lying to yourself, the past seem's worse
'Cause I can get dark, more dark than the dark moor
I can get dark like a dark night in Dartmoor
Dark like Darfur at half-past four
AM, so why you dummies getting daft for?
Not shy to defend it, don't try to prevent this
A mind as tremendous as Einstein or Midas i meant this
I rise from the trenches like vikings
I'm fighting for my independence
My rhymes are relentless
Like a right to your dentures
Your rhymes are as violent as fencing
My rhymes are offensive
As violent as Ghengis through pride and resentment
Misers cry to lament this, how foul could your mouth be?
How could you doubt me?
That's random like a row with a mounty
Or an alchi' driving his Audi to Saudi
Or Bush and Blair making rap albums about peace
You're ready for the rumble, heading for a tumble
Definitely better any veteran among you
They should've told you 'If anybody loves you
With level irrelevance, you will never get above two'
I murk it with ease, burn it indeed
Merge with the beat like the birds and the bees
They want food for thought, I will serve them a feast
Not commercial, believe that I nurtured a niche
Much love to those doing reaction vids
Rap kids act big but are tactic-less
Better off practising mad back-flips
With a bad slipped disc and fractured wrists
Who mastered this? Know what the answer is
Who's got bars that carve to the heart of this?
Regardless, I blame SB for starting this
What's Fire in the Booth to an arsonist?
Guys don't make me rap, guys don't make me rap
Guys don't make me rap, might go crazy at
What's Fire in the Booth to a pyromaniac?
Please bro, he don't need no heat though
What's Fire in the Booth to the dragon Ricky Steamboat
Seven years out, never fear doubt
Any peers proud? Whatever the weather, better clear out
You're a mere mouse, I'm here now to tear down
What you care about bears clout can never compare now
Back worse than ever before, rebel with a cause you could never ignore
If anyone thought, I never dead it with metaphors that were better than yours
I rendered the sentiments simple with source, and dead on the floors
Let them have a bite, but that was bad advice if you fraternise
Know what man-a-man are like when a man on mic
Battles bad as Bannon's like when hes banning guys
Had enough of savage lies getting sanitised
Asinine pantomimes got you paralysed
Got a panoramic mind when I strategise
Agonise, analyse before I spat a rhyme
Merciless mystic, birth as a misfit
Journalistic gift with the verbalist instinct
They heard that I did this, cursed as an infant
But burst with the verse, like the first in existence
Billionaires, they don't want Corbyn in
We nearly are there, hit them with the four-kick spin
They're silly and scared, running on a forfeit ting
Hearing impaired, thinking I'm a Nordic King
We fought the cowards of corporate towers
Tryna force them out the corridors of power
And the taste-makers were sort of sour
Vultures circle, leave your corpse devour
But I'm back now
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