F64

[Verse] I put my heart in the beat A lot of MCs wanna target my dreams But they can’t, because their bars are garbage and weak And they’re not anywhere near hard as half of a seat D-Dem man are air But still, I can’t even breathe Fulfill my bars in a speech I feel like Martin Luther I star the future, because I’m just dream Ready to get slept on, they love to lie Only do it where your beds been crept on I’ve lost my mind, head gone, ain't got the time I watch my own hand, yes, I’m always on one I got no work, leave them amazed Now they got no words Watch them birds Tweet, they say I’m sick Mi nah need no doc, no nurse And me shape and dem gyal ah got no curves Better get to the gym, 'cuz I’m destined to win If they wanna bar fight, then I’m next in the ring I’ma murder the beat Threat I’ma kill when I get to the field With the farm with the sheep I’m a leader, I rather stop to defeat I’m a Sargent for the army, march and compete I’m a boss, fully recharge my artillery I’ma charge to ya team Every mic I’m on gets beat, kinda like Michael’s song I flex with the best now, find a spot I swoop down like an eagle, Lyle and Scott And everybody thinks they’re animals, but I am the shark Make sure your head straight, or I’ll iron the top It weren’t hard to get their ears, I just get my Mike Tyson on Get it? Or maybe your brain's slow You’re way behind a hole If a MC wants it, then they can get it in the mornin' Something like J. Cole I told the haters, they know to stay low I’ma have to take them out, no date show I’m over their heads, rainbow So just lighten up, cake soap Learner, teacher, if you wanna murk I’ma burn a heater Take 'em off the mic Don’t let me turn 'em to Ike I’m a haffi Turner to Tina Make them spin round like a ballerina Leave 'em leanin', tower of Pisa Some gyal are, like, half similies So gimme a intro like the start of da beat Like Dum-dum, dum-dum-dum dum dum Dum-dum, dum-dum-dum, ha-ha-ha-ha You must be dumb, dumb-dumb-dumb Eat up the beat like nam-nam-nam-nam-nam-nam-nam I am the don-don-don-don from Brum I’m not from London, don-don-don-don Man down, bruk up, rum-pum-pum-pum-pum-pum Gyal ah act Ashley Young, Young, Young, Young, Young They act too much Fabregas Used to be so much Gascoigne I aim for my goals and achieve 'Cuz I’m upfront strike any gyal with a match I’m heading to my destination and that’s final I make the crowd jump like a scratched vinyl They’re gonna know that I am back spinal It's gonna get messy, ask Lionel But it's not as fun These games like a race that I’ve already finished So I’ma keep runnin' it, Forrest Gump They will get spun like Sonic does I’ma school you college pucks You can see I stand out like porridge lumps You keep sayin' that you all for the success Deep down if you really want it come And I know some YouTube comments are gonna say "Get to the kitchen and make me a sandwich!" Who do you think I am? Gordon Ramsey? You will get dressed, Maxi You must be drunk, stop pourin' Brandy You said you came with ya dogs: better off callin' Lassie Or keep your mouth shut like the doors of a taxi You got too much lip, Jay-Z And his album I bought Some gyal act way to vain Runnin' up, clap like a round of applause Clap, clap, clap Left 'em in a state, but you don’t count as a broad [Outro] Ha-ha! SBTV, the entrepreneur!