£18.90

[Intro: Skepta]

Yeah, Cel Double, Lay-Z, Skeppy

Professor Teka production

We're back in the business

North London's finest

Tell 'em, slew dis ting

Boy Better Know, TMT

[Verse 1: Cel22]

I'm on a baxxing ting

I said I'm not ramping so you won't see me skin teet'

Come thru, buss man's head with the chair

I don't wanna send man up in the air

I'll show you 'bout six feet

Revenge is sweet and payback's a bitch

I owe you like I'm in arrears

End of the week, I'll have rotten teet'

Yeah, yeah, so I'm back with a new ting

Man better duck down, don't look 'round when I'm shooting

Get spun around when I use it

Shots fly, better mеk a man dance

Like say he's gеtting down with the music

You wanna pree man? Watch how man are moving

Always about when I do tings

All up in my B-I, man wanna be I

Don't tink that you won't tek bad up

Anybody can get bad up, go and get back up

See man's tings, don't try take that up

I was down but I'm back up

They know what I'm worth

I refuse to be here on my face like sideburns

I've gotta break down light work, day to the night work

I come thru then it might work

You man are waste like chicks with nice curves

Bring beef to your door like Guy Fawkes' night

You'll see bare kids with fireworks

Kids better divert, mum, dad too

It's a shame that she had you

Rolling on road with holes in your tracksuit

I will slap you

Darg, I know you ain't moving no damn food

[Verse 2: Lay-Z]

'Cause I am lyrically better than any MC

Wanna duel? Let's get ready, then see

Big bars, know I've got too many, OG

Give me juice, give me Coke, a little Henny, that's me

And boom, I will lyrically bad him up

Draw for the heat; if he gets rude, tan him up

Move all the white and the B, then bag him up

Just haffi laugh at the way that I had him up, bad him up

Straight on a mad ting

Now watch me control the scene like captain

[?] like mummy unwrapped in

So far ahead, you'll think I'm behind

Real talk, look, cuzzy, I've lapped him

There's no sleep, nah, cuzzy, no nap ting

Can't catch me, nah, cuzzy, can't catch him

There's not one scene that I'm matched in

It's a mad ting

'Cause I came in the game real hard, no homo

Sold out my mixtape without a promo

Most MCs are just jokes like Kojo

Talk about road but they don't know so

So I take students back to the dojo

I am the sensei, one-man, solo

Greatest MC

The one that all the haters envy

You can't send for the name, nah, cuz, that's a no-go

I'll dun a man's dance with his own flow

Bax man's head with the mic at his own show

You ain't the same guy on your own, so

But I'm just after the dough-dough

Forget the bird, pounds of the moto

Top three, no Intertoto

Better than average but I still know Joe

[Verse 3: Skepta]

Yo, let me turn this ting into Heat FM

I write bars in my head, I don't need a pen

I already made ten MCs wanna join JLS

'Cause their heart won't beat again

I told them start it, I'll finish it

Since I've been in it, I've been killing it

We give it to the DJ, he's spinning it

You give it to the DJ, he's binning it

Skepta, Lay-Z and Cel Double

Anytime we come through, they smell trouble

They talk about bussing off guns

When the only metal on your waist is a belt buckle

They talk about holding the piece

But when it kicks off, they run to police

They get on my nerves like holes in my teeth

That's why I stay screaming "fuck the police"

Bare rudeness, bare back chat

They just don't like the fact that

Jme's driving a matte black

BMW, looking like Batman

So they put two and two together

They think I'm Robin, but I'm not robbing or shotting

But if we're talking 'bout shotting CDs

Then I'm killing 'em like anthrax

Boy Better Know, TMT

N15, 17, TMD

Man don't wanna see me MC

Hating on a n***a like the BNP

But if you don't like me, just fight me

But trust me, I ain't giving up lightly

'Cause I remember when my line was dead

And I had to take the £18.90

[Outro: Skepta]

Skeppy

Murder