Blue

[Intro: Southside JB & Merky ACE] Dirty Yeah Hold it in my hand, two-handed I done left blood in these streets Sick head, horrible, rude Do things you ain't thought of Whoa Coming up off me? Now that won't happen Who's that? What's that? Dot-dot Terrible torture [Verse 1: Merky ACE] Still moving erratic Things on me, I ain't going to the attic Bring who? Do what? Man ah just grab him Red dot pon him head like pauper Aladdin Jerk man's food that he just finished bagging Coming up off me? That won't happen Reverse the ting, not jamming, spinner's not jamming Come back next week, calm, like "yo, what happened?" I want a lightskin ting from Clapham Eight straps and a G-wagon Dem boy gwan go buy jewellery in Hatton We tek the tings, then send them back to Hatton Check the profile, more time serious Dem boy dere get flattened Man circle the spot like Saturn Came with the who? What? Mek a man doo-wop Not Lauryn when I say Hill Juice gon' spill Tryna mek man French kiss canvas, so romantic Hold it in my hand two-handed Crash, bang, he's slumped on the landing Ratchet came through clanking Boom-boom, boom-boom, man's blanking Who's that? What's that? Dot-dot Nah, man know that's the hand ting Leave the shush at home on that Joe there Cuh you might haffi main road crash it and dash it, gone Man ah pull back like elastic, calm Whoa, strike like matchstick Get a refund for your obeah garbage (rubbish!) Might move like Mugabe And Idi Amin and dem boy dere If a man step in, then boy start fret When they leave them house, them nuh expect death Straight cash-in-hand, me nuh accept cheque Except when me count up label bread I'm able, turn all the tables Head-over-heels, man make rules Dem boy dere can't come to the Gaza Not even to buy ten eight-balls Dash it in his face, fuck a convo Came with the suttin' in my long coat Lick off his head like strongbow Juice gotta spill like Um'Bongo Flock OT, that's on toe And local but it's chotch though You ain't gotta ask, I'm live But you can let me know what you want, though [Verse 2: Southside JB] Dirty Deptford, dirty .44 Remington teeth Make your mum dress all churchy I've turned down sex for beef I'm still tryna roast this turkey I've done left blood on these streets I've been putting in from early Man ah go shoot me a birdie Straight up greazy ting This .44 here Don't know about talking and reasoning Man ah fill up a boy with lead Put all these teeth in him Then I shove this blade in far Pray it goes deeper in Nobody in sight for a mile It looks quite peak for him He didn't wanna get this blade But man still sneak it in Just smoke on smoke on smoke on smoke No shisha ting Man ah soak his coat or poke his throat Blood seeping in It looks quite peak for him Back out the rammy on him Dirty, ram it in him The pum pum thought he was bad Till man flang it on him Bullets on a cannibal ting Brain cells hanging on him The mizzy had never been used Until man rang it on him Terrible torture Burn man's skin for a hour Don't give him no water Sick head, horrible, rude Do things you ain't thought of Man gun buck the top of your head Now the nigga looks shorter Kill everybody in your house But your son and your daughter In ten years' time I'll put your kids in the corner Boy turned bad, got nicked Then turned informer Hot head, yeah? Well, these bells make that warmer Fullers