Gameover P Money

[Verse 1]
Anybody that thinks they're bad, then come
I'm number one, dun know
I'll turn your ears into Dumbo's
Listen clearly! I'll send you where the sun goes
When a tongue sputs, gun blow
Man better duck down
You ain't got no Adidas stripes, don't come with your Umbro
Otherwise you'll be left floored with a numb nose
Taliban, hype like a gypsy
Light up the caravan
Come to your yard on my ones
Cos I know that you are no badaman
Name one yute that you're badder than
Swell up your chest, till it's the size of a caravan
Style and technique is wild
No man could defeat this child
This MC can't manage man
Turn beef into cabbage man
Show them the style of a general
I be the baddest MC in general
No other MC comes near me
They're all stuck in their genitals
The hope they need to receive is medical
I'm a veteran like Terry Venables
This picture here is not edible
Man wanna cause a racket
And get clapped with the tennis ball
Swing but you won't get 'em all
Show them the style of a champion
Wanna say names? Cool I'll thank them
Lock down, blank them
Guys wanna get loud bass I'll amp them
Envelopes I'll stamp them
Swell up your chest, till it's the size of a mansion
Can't come back, nah DJ don't run that
If they don't stretch I'll pramp 'em
Warrior must fear this champion