Yo, yo, u wicked hard nut, u fucking butt, licker, and u picking bogeys, and I call u the flicker, u wear grannies not knickers, U wear shit shoes, I wear kickers.
U mucking me bout, get ma cru to come out, u prob beat us, NOT, and that’s a doubt. Im bout, 2 give a shout, to the u.a.c dats hu we b. Chilling, graffing, rapping, mc-ing, that wat we do, mc-ing, rapping, graffing, chilling, that wat we bring, rap not sing.
Now all the cocks of shitty school, aka greensward, put Ur mothafucking hands up n let me saw all Ur mc’s away cos there only one that’s bout to stay, that me, mc Lix, that hu I be.
Chilling, graffing, rapping, mc-ing, that wat we do, mc-ing, rapping, graffing, chilling, that wat we bring, rap not sing.
I b seen down Southend, wearing ma bling, showing ma rapping, I be tapping, n it gonna be happening, ma lyrics on the internet, didn’t see that one come till I was a rep.
Chilling, graffing, rapping, mc-ing, that wat we do, mc-ing, rapping, graffing, chilling, that wat we bring, rap not sing.
Now the raps ova, so I throw the mic in tha crowd, they shout from silence to loud.
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