Spookfest - Footsie

Random ones

Start spraying off bars, random ones

If you listen up close, inna my lyrics, you’ll hear pars like random ones

(random)

Nah, we can’t work in tandem ones (tandem)

Kidnap the game on a ransom one

Come to your yard, ransom ones

Slap man at his door, spank some ones

Ugly, this ain’t handsome, son

Everyting’s loaded, you’ll get folded (I'm loaded)

Don’t act up, I’ll hand you son

Or I can do it old school and land you one (bang)

Before you’ve blinked I’ve banged you one

A good nights sleep I’ll hand you one

That pussy’ole said that he don’t like me (so)

Don’t watch that, I can’t stand you son

I’m sick

I used to be on foot on the strip

But that’s not the lick so man copped a whip

Part cash and part plastic

Now feds wanna search my shit (what)

Like 99 problems bitch

But that’s not the lick so I give them lip (truss)

You can’t take Jme for a prick

I’m hustling like Tip and Chip

I used to move bits in the bits

But that’s not the lick so I fixed up quick (sick)

Now I pick up the mic and spit

I make capital Gs like Eric Schmidt (what)

I will never lyrically slip

Cause that’s not the lick

Man are making hits

The day I die is the day I quit (safe)

I’m lighting them up and I’m bunning them out

Rolling them up and I’m bunning them down to the roach

School his whole team just like a coach

Been around the world I’ve been coast to coast

And yeah I’m on this more than most

Lick a man down and propose a toast

I’ve got the styles and p’s, I’m a ghost

Then, then, then

I come back with a banger that’s nanger

Man are gonna get left on a hanger

He’s gonna get left on the line (to dry)

I’ve been drying him out

Just like weed I’ve been drying him out

And his girl, I’ve been eyeing her out

Like a new flavour, I’ll be trying her out

When I put her in the grind and grind her out

Man wanna hate me

Cause I do it bigger than big, I do it big, I do it B.I.G

Girls wanna rate me and wanna date me

See my video on MTV

Going on shady, going in lately

Boy Better Know til I D.I.E

Man, try violate me

Man will get duppied like violently

I don’t wanna hear no more talk

Man are eating great, no knife and fork

But the grime

I don’t know what they thought

Them man are popstar like champagne cork

I will pop stars just like champagne cork

Body outlined in chalk

Hand on the Bible, lie in court

No talk to the pigs

No bacon talk

My career’s got so many bidders

Cause I cut more paper than a pair of scissors

How you gonna come against a team full of winners

With a flow that’s way more amateur, they’re beginners

I never use the «n word», but you know what, today I really ain’t fucking

around with these niggas

Olympics is over but I would still bang

And watch them go dive like synchronised swimmers

This kid’s sick

What’s in his hand would lift your car in the air like machines in Kwik-Fit

I keep telling them mind your bloody mouth

Or a bloody mouth will make you look like you wear lipstick

My punchlines hit like a plastic surgeon

No botox, still leave you with big lips

I’m artistic

With bars I can spoil your whole life and let you relate to a rich kid

Man wanna run off your mouth online

Arm lock man, make a big man cry

Run up in the yard, 3D man’s wife

DDT man’s child

Spit so deep that I’m bringing up bile

Ain’t gave a man a dead leg in a while

When I’m gone it’s a ting

Man better jet off

Before man let off

Hop out the whip, burst man’s head off

Rise up the ting like a wheelie

Before that, they were talking greazy

?

Stevie

Eyes closed when you see me

I go Blunkett

Blind on the beat, I go Blunkett

Blind on the beat, I go Blunkett

Sleeeeeeeeew Demmmmmmm