The Other Side
Tell the barber stop fuckin' with my hairline
Got mine fitted to the side when I wear mine
Why these boys keep reachin' for my plate knowin' I don't wanna share mine?
Why these boys keep lyin' when they swear blind?
Why they talking like I never made bare grime?
Talk tools like I never had a spare 9
Why they reachin' for my pockets like it's their grind?
They better recline
Don't don't need a co-sign from the mayor cos I got a pretty penny, I ain't beggin' in my spare time
Why these bitches wanna hit me with the bare whine?
Tell me hit it bareback, these bitches ain't even worth the airtime
Why these singers always gotta use Melodyne?
Why these rappers on their phone on the radio, they ain't got prepared lines?
Why you gotta keep gassin' up their dead rhymes?
Why I gotta be a hater when I tell the truth?
Why I gotta like your shitty fire in the booth?
If you're really spittin' fire where's the bloody proof?
I ain't hatin' on the youth, if you ain't got the juice
What's the bloody use?
Cos I'm used to the true spitters on the roof
East side of the river that's the bloody roots
Had to put in work like a pair of muddy boots
Too big for my boots that's the truth
No excuse for you new recruits
Bunch of dilutes, and a few flukes
I've been out of the loop
Gotta pepper MCs with a few nukes
Bunch of fashion MCs think they're too cute
Bunch of rubbish MCs stick em in a chute
Chuck em out of a helicopter with no parachute
I had to jump through hoops
I'm a true brute
It ain't up for dispute
How bad do you want it?
Do you really, really want it?
How bad do you want it?
Do you really, really want it?
How bad do you want it?
Do you really, really want it?
Do you really, really want it?
If you want it then I'm on it
Why these bredders beggin' a re-union?
Why's the Godfather touchin' on the kids?
Why you actin' like you never knew and he's movin' new again?
There ain't ever gonna be another crew again
So tell Willy that I don't need a pen pal
Stop writin' me these letters cos I don't know what to do with them
It ain't ever gonna be '03 or '02 they don't do it how I did it
Somebody tell me what I've gotta prove again
I was runnin' round the manor like a hooligan
I was linkin' up with Gavin he was slewin' them
Would have been a mad ting if he blew all these little grime kids ain't got a clue
I ain't even got a problem with the newer gen
But all these rappers that you're begging I will ruin them
And tell Mega he can make all the noise that he wants but I'll put him on his arse in a swamp with a few of them
They're still talkin' about my old wars
Folklore still talkin' bout my old bars
Got my thinkin' that it's all I'm really known for
I ain't runnin' from no-one I fought my own wars
C1 NORTHSTAR, thats a war lord
If they only knew the way, flip the scoreboard
And tell Wes that he's pukka and a mukka, he's still a mad man, and a nutter and the heat I just can't afford
Coz I'm on tour, they want an encore
Yeah sure that's what I'm on for
Tell the promoters that they gotta put me on more
I'm like an elevator stoppin' at the wrong floor
I ain't got no regrets, if I did have a set
It would be that I never flew Concorde
Now my flow is complete 'cah I don't want no raasclaat beat
How bad do you want it?
Do you really, really want it?
How bad do you want it?
Do you really, really want it?
How bad do you want it?
Do you really, really want it?
Do you really, really want it?
If you want it then I'm on it
Got mine fitted to the side when I wear mine
Why these boys keep reachin' for my plate knowin' I don't wanna share mine?
Why these boys keep lyin' when they swear blind?
Why they talking like I never made bare grime?
Talk tools like I never had a spare 9
Why they reachin' for my pockets like it's their grind?
They better recline
Don't don't need a co-sign from the mayor cos I got a pretty penny, I ain't beggin' in my spare time
Why these bitches wanna hit me with the bare whine?
Tell me hit it bareback, these bitches ain't even worth the airtime
Why these singers always gotta use Melodyne?
Why these rappers on their phone on the radio, they ain't got prepared lines?
Why you gotta keep gassin' up their dead rhymes?
Why I gotta be a hater when I tell the truth?
Why I gotta like your shitty fire in the booth?
If you're really spittin' fire where's the bloody proof?
I ain't hatin' on the youth, if you ain't got the juice
What's the bloody use?
Cos I'm used to the true spitters on the roof
East side of the river that's the bloody roots
Had to put in work like a pair of muddy boots
Too big for my boots that's the truth
No excuse for you new recruits
Bunch of dilutes, and a few flukes
I've been out of the loop
Gotta pepper MCs with a few nukes
Bunch of fashion MCs think they're too cute
Bunch of rubbish MCs stick em in a chute
Chuck em out of a helicopter with no parachute
I had to jump through hoops
I'm a true brute
It ain't up for dispute
How bad do you want it?
Do you really, really want it?
How bad do you want it?
Do you really, really want it?
How bad do you want it?
Do you really, really want it?
Do you really, really want it?
If you want it then I'm on it
Why these bredders beggin' a re-union?
Why's the Godfather touchin' on the kids?
Why you actin' like you never knew and he's movin' new again?
There ain't ever gonna be another crew again
So tell Willy that I don't need a pen pal
Stop writin' me these letters cos I don't know what to do with them
It ain't ever gonna be '03 or '02 they don't do it how I did it
Somebody tell me what I've gotta prove again
I was runnin' round the manor like a hooligan
I was linkin' up with Gavin he was slewin' them
Would have been a mad ting if he blew all these little grime kids ain't got a clue
I ain't even got a problem with the newer gen
But all these rappers that you're begging I will ruin them
And tell Mega he can make all the noise that he wants but I'll put him on his arse in a swamp with a few of them
They're still talkin' about my old wars
Folklore still talkin' bout my old bars
Got my thinkin' that it's all I'm really known for
I ain't runnin' from no-one I fought my own wars
C1 NORTHSTAR, thats a war lord
If they only knew the way, flip the scoreboard
And tell Wes that he's pukka and a mukka, he's still a mad man, and a nutter and the heat I just can't afford
Coz I'm on tour, they want an encore
Yeah sure that's what I'm on for
Tell the promoters that they gotta put me on more
I'm like an elevator stoppin' at the wrong floor
I ain't got no regrets, if I did have a set
It would be that I never flew Concorde
Now my flow is complete 'cah I don't want no raasclaat beat
How bad do you want it?
Do you really, really want it?
How bad do you want it?
Do you really, really want it?
How bad do you want it?
Do you really, really want it?
Do you really, really want it?
If you want it then I'm on it
Credits
Writer(s): Dylan Kwabena Mills, Ronald Latour, Brock F. Korsan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.