Lyrics - P Money

I took a year out

And I came back like 'What, fam?'

Any MC squarin' up I’ll box man

See when I’m on man, hand ting up close

Give a man wings, youngers callin' me bossman (oi bossman)

Ribs or legs what you want fam

I?

top guys I don’t wear top man

Still on job fam

I ain’t no gym freak, still pickin' up somthin' heavy when I spot man (bah!)

You get me?

You know like that

You’re ringin' off at who?

I got street cred brudda I can phone right back

Ask the price roll right back

React quicker than no life Shaq (brrr)

In training you’re a tram manna Eurostar them manna got no live tracks (yeah?)

On big enough to sleep on you man ain’t even had shows like that, cause

Me

Nobody matters

Blacked out, big teeth, or it’s a blade so

Canada Goose while I wrap up these rappers (or)

Or trappers

Chat about snitchin', nobody snitched blud you’re in jail cause you went in the

booth on a whole tune and blabbered

You are takin' the piss, you’re bladdered (drunk)

You ain’t a stackers

Hopin' your ten-team bet comes in when I’m getting a few hundred K from an

ackers

(999 yeah this track gettin' battered)

I gave a young gun a booting

highlights givin' it to (mad)

I don’t know any computer geeks deep, they’re serious hackers (mmm)

I got a new one and I might call this 'Jack'

Ca' manna touch mic they can’t tell me jack (yeah)

Jump in the riddim and the riddim get jack (che!)

Your wifey wanted my number, when she ask for my name I said it was Jack

(hahaha)

Backstage lif' up her skirt like Jack (mmm)

Now when you beat she’s moaning «Jaack»

Got you thinking «Who the hell’s Jack?»

(huh?)

Look in her phone bet you gonna see 'Jack' (ah!)

Text messages, bet you gonna see 'Jack' (ah!)

Call register, bet you gonna see 'Jack'

WhatsApp too, yeah, you gonna see 'Jack' (oi Jack)

Now you’re rounding up your bredrins gassed up like «Nah, man’s gonna kill Jack»

(nah)

Then you realize P Money is Jack (wut?)

And walk past me like you can’t see jack (shook)

You think man’s stupid

Cause I dress like this and do grime music

They hear my crowd and they think «Who's this?

He must be good tho, look how they lose it!»

They can’t holla me whenever they choose it

Whenever they talk man block and mute it

MC sign deals and think they’re ballers

Brudda I will take your deal and boot it

About «why».

Man’s not stupid

You walked in fresh never owed nobody you signed a contract then left with debt

(ah?)

Ain’t got a clue.

To them man it’s Rubik’s

And your A&R secretly knew this

He don’t care, and your manager spent your first ten percent then jumped on a

cruise ship

I woulda dashed that contact out like Bang!

I never got the award ca' I’m still putting man inna hospital ward

If I pull up in a Honda Accord (ah!)

It’s long clips teeth so big he’ll have to floss with a sword (mad)

I don’t know why they wanted a war

I ball out with hooligans I’m scrappin' at home and abroad

You weren’t there you were at home with your broad (mmm)

Tell 'em when I’m chefin' this beef I ain’t messin' Gordon Rams' couldn’t

handle the sauce (huh?)

Big boy sets surrounded by 20 dead MC’s feelin' like I’m trapped in a morgue

Turn man into a corpse, burn man alive with the Fantastic Four

What you expect when you man gas up a torch (ah?)

Sets on my own, mic in my left, blade in my right never EVER had my back to the

door

Luke Skywalks when I cut man with force

You don’t want me battlin'

Batter 'im when I grab a snake and rattle it

Firing so many shells from the top the ground looks like a gravel pit (woah)

Wanna see what I got 'till I unravel it (sh!)

Look how they stutter and babble it

You ain’t on backin' it (ah!)

When it gets messy they don’t tackle it (ah!)

Take who chain?

I bought?

You ain’t havin' it (nope!)

Never caught that line but claim you’re trap, innit?

Fool, it’s not that innit?

(nah)

You ain’t got the belly you’re chattin' it

If I left the money you’re grabbin' it

Skateboard MC.

You been on the grind for years without stackin' it,

every year attackin' it

That’s why I’m busy

Summer after summer

Man knows man busy

They don’t know Dylan but still every MC that I span knows what it’s like to be

Dizzee (mad)