[Intro]
Yeah
Eskiboy
Hold tight the Twitter massive, MySpace, Facebook, everyone
Practice
Yeah
[Verse 1]
You could've been a fan of this one or that one
MCs think they're too rough until I come around and slap one
If you know a girl in the hood who don't like me
When you come radio, better bring that one
Heard that you wanna take a trip to the moon
I'll make you moonwalk just like Michael Jackson
You ain't on the level that I'm on
You need the exposure path to find that one
I'm a bigger star in the hood, rich black one
Lend you a fiver, I don't want back one
Keep it, if I see an empty [?] on you
Anybody, I'm all ready to clap one
You keep saying I'm a crackhead, cokehead
But this time, you're wrong, you're the cat one
I wanna pint, Guinness and black one
If you wanna shoot, don't come with a cap gun
Spray your crew with a 10 fresh MAC one
Bring anybody you wanna bring, how's that one?
Imagine if I never wrote 'black one'
You'd be looking for bars to take - take that one
Call me anything that you want
Because six times a year, I get cheques, fat ones
I knew that my name rang bells
You didn't, what a joke, nick nack paddy whack one
[Verse 2]
MC, you're not the best black one
With the flow, you're a slack one
This soundboy, he's lower than a PS3
He sold it like a cat, pretending he's jacked one
East London split into postcodes
I'm better than you in that one, and that one
And that one, and that one, and that one, and that one
And that one, and that one, and that one, and that one
Thought you had a better bar than 'black one'
But this bar is a you-fall-back one
You called 'black one' into a war
You was never gonna win it because it was a full-strap one
You was wrong
Take it all back and get it off your chest on a chill and relax one
Taking my lyrics on board for no reason
Got a paranoia problem? Fat one
Artists are lost but the sound don't freshen
Rave, no guest list, no concession
F the recession, F the suppression
Hear me out good, I'll teach you a lesson
For grime, I've got an obsession
And that's why I've got a high level of aggression
When I get on my lyrics, they give a run up in a session
You leave with the wrong impression
[Verse 3]
H, can't, test, these stars that are next up
You ride a bike, no light or reflector
It's 2'10, you're not better than JME
Chipmunk, Scorcher, Frisco or Skepta
Ringing up my phone, recording, that's extra
If you're a king, when will they elect ya?
Kill a soundboy with a sentence
I won't waste a line rhyming, Carmen Electra
It's like that, let me get straight to the point
You think you're big, H, but I don't detect ya
I'm not lying, I don't detect ya
Leave you outside the rave will forget ya
Lazy, Double S, Prez T, Wretch 32, they'll blow up your sector
You got it wrong because I'm the corrector
I'm the chosen one, the money collector
[Verse 4]
I'm the b-d-est
You can't t-d-est
I can write tunes, no bullet proof v-d-est
[?] and [?] can't get rid of we, make money before
I'm coming back with the b-d-est
For the wicked, there's no r-d-est
How you gonna bother me like you was a p-d-est?
You're not good enough, can't inv-d-est
Fall back, your tune ain't pumping
You've been on a vibe that's like no heart in a ch-d-est
Dead out, so get out the rasclart n-d-est
[Outro]
Yeah