Let’s Push Things Forward (The Streets Remix) The Streets (Ft. Roll Deep)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Let’s Push Things Forward (The Streets Remix)" by The Streets (Ft. Roll Deep). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Chorus: Mike Skinner & Dizzee Rascal]
Smash the show, glass on the go
Geezers like "Whoa" (Roll Deep crew)
Smash the show, glass on the go
Let's push things forward (Live on The Streets)
(2000-and-slew) Smash the show, glass on the go
Let's push things forward (Realness, huh)
Smash the show, glass on the go
Geezers like "Whoa", oi ([?])
[Verse 1: [?]]
This man is too jacked
Can't kick the cats out the flats
All of little use, I got gats, but don't watch that
'Cause I got a compact, double impact
In fact, my whole crew strapped
How ya like that?
Everybody splat when I kick off the back door
Are you lookin' for a fat jaw?
Do I have to get the hacksaw and make your back sore?
[Verse 2: [?]]
Low key, yeah, four by four
Thought he was raw in a lyrical war
Now he laying on the floor, sore
Come in the front, left out the back door
Them boy can't fuck about no more
Can't chat shit no more
Can't feel sweet no more
Why? 'Cause he's laying on the floor, sore
And on the rhythm, I'm raw
Smash the show, glass on the go
Geezers like "Whoa" (Roll Deep crew)
Smash the show, glass on the go
Let's push things forward (Live on The Streets)
(2000-and-slew) Smash the show, glass on the go
Let's push things forward (Realness, huh)
Smash the show, glass on the go
Geezers like "Whoa", oi ([?])
[Verse 1: [?]]
This man is too jacked
Can't kick the cats out the flats
All of little use, I got gats, but don't watch that
'Cause I got a compact, double impact
In fact, my whole crew strapped
How ya like that?
Everybody splat when I kick off the back door
Are you lookin' for a fat jaw?
Do I have to get the hacksaw and make your back sore?
[Verse 2: [?]]
Low key, yeah, four by four
Thought he was raw in a lyrical war
Now he laying on the floor, sore
Come in the front, left out the back door
Them boy can't fuck about no more
Can't chat shit no more
Can't feel sweet no more
Why? 'Cause he's laying on the floor, sore
And on the rhythm, I'm raw
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