Seems 2 Be

(Who's that, who's that, who's that?)
The dopest, flyest
OG, pimp hustler, gangster player
Hardcore motherfucker living today
To be honest, I'm totally and completely on his dick
And you know this, MAN
It's the return of Dizzee Rascal
Dem boy not ready yet, trend they can never set
Inside outside, inside outside
Stop dat, start dat, get dat
Yo, you know, going on dirty going on stank (Yo)

Roll deep on these (Uh)
Put these MCs on deep freeze (Freeze)
Hit these, whip these and rip these
Come like Busta, we flip these
So please don't rap with these (Nah)
Fearless, angry, sick MC's
Don't like Christine's or Britney's
Lalas or Tinky Winkys
And this one's strictly for pickneys
Old school afro dry white knees
Barclays, Halifax, we stick these
Endless gunshots, you lick these
Trick these CIDs with ease
Touch mic, MC's jump like fleas
Player haters get chopped like trees
Come a boy rascal, to a boy miseries

It seems to be cars and cash and (Uh) girls and peds
And manners on flame (Uh), better keep your eyes out for them feds
It seems to be phones and bling and raves and weed (Weed)
And pay up what you owe or else them boys will make you bleed
Seems to be DJ's and MC's and gold and Nike's
We roll deep for the money; we don't want no technicalities
It seems to be love and war and hate and life
Harsh life, hustle life, thug life, street life

So far from clean (So far)
Play kiss chase with your aunt Maureen
Get rhymes, get heard, get seen
Dizzee run things like Idi Amin
Keep vigilant, keep on guard
We chuck grenades at Scotland Yard
Retard gets kicked hard, real hard
Leave death threats in your birthday card
Oh my days, what is he like
Dizzee.com, Dizzee.bustmic
World Wide Web dot slash east end
Dizzee.com jacked your girlfriend
Co.uk, outlaw scholar
Barefoot pimp slash dot holla
Frank Fraser lyrical tank
Dizzee.com slash going on stank

It seems to be cars and cash and girls and peds
And manners on flame (Uh)
Better keep your eyes out for them feds (Woo)
It seems to be phones and bling and raves and weed (Weed)
And pay up what you owe or else them boys will make you bleed
Seems to be DJ's and MC's and gold and Nike's
We roll deep for the money; we don't want no technicalities
It seems to be love and war and hate and life
Harsh life, hustle life, thug life (Yo), street life (Listen up, yo)

Ding-dong, it's on
Fake MC's want to sing my song (Song)
You want to test? Hurry up, bring it on
Wanna take me for a mong? Nah, that's wrong
Hit them with a Jeet-Kun-Do akido blow
Leave bullet holes in your Moschino clothes
Hot like weather, we grow, carry condoms for the hoes
Back, front, inside, out
Dizzee got the flow to make a boy wile out
Six foot deep you can never climb out
I smoke dat weed till my mum finds out
Front, back, outside, in
Barefoot kids sipping on jing-sing
Love making? Nah, doggystyling
In a dark park on a dark evening

It seems to be cars and cash and girls and peds
And manners on flame (Uh), better keep your eyes out for them feds
It seems to be phones and bling and raves and weed (Weed)
And pay up what you owe or else them boys will make you bleed
Seems to be DJ's and MC's and gold and Nike's
We roll deep for the money; we don't want no technicalities
It seems to be love and war and hate and life
Harsh life, hustle life, thug life, street life