Ghetts – Sycamore Freestyle (2005) | Track profile | Dork

Ghetts – Sycamore Freestyle (2005) | Track profile | Dork

Lyrics

Sycamore Freestyle

[Intro]

Yeah, sycamore

'Cause I'm more sick than anyone

You can tell the doctor where he can stick his cure

Your boy Ghetto

G-H-E-Double T-O

Fuck about

Know what the fuck this is?

London City!

I said London City!

[Verse 1]

I'm killing MCs with ease

The minute I squeeze

The riddim is heat

Stop livin' in a dream

You're not bigger than me

Fuck minimum Ps

I wanna be living in the heat with women that are freaks

I'm sick in the streets

Sick in the beef

And not one of my bars has been written in peace

Not one of my cars have been legitimate, please

Please let a criminal breathe

You shot to a kid then leave

Without you lot ringin' the police or seeking out thieves

When I'm wiggin' out D

When a nigga down East

That wicked doubt that we could never live without cheese

So now more time, they're bringin' out heat

Niggas that've been around keys-

PULL UP!

[Intro]

Yeah, sycamore

'Cause I'm more sick than anyone

You can tell the doctor where he can stick his cure

Your boy Ghetto

G-H-E-Double T-O

Fuck about

Know what the fuck this is?

Plaistow City!

I said Plaistow City!

[Verse 1]

I'm killing MCs with ease

The minute I squeeze

The riddim is heat

Stop livin' in a dream

You're not bigger than me

Fuck minimum Ps

I wanna be living in the heat with women that are freaks

I'm sick in the streets

Sick in the beef

And not one of my bars has been written in peace

Not one of my cars have been legitimate, please

Please let a criminal breathe

You shot to a kid then leave

Without you lot ringin' the police or seeking out thieves

When I'm wiggin' out D

When a nigga down East

That wicked doubt that we could never live without cheese

So now more time, they're bringin' out heat

Niggas that've been around keys

Since I've been about 3, I've been about Gs

You could never say I ain't been about

I will never be outta' dough

So I got cats slingin' down my phone

I shot crack in and out of the zone

I'm in and out your hoes

Zippin' down the road where niggas out for dough

You ain't a killer out on road

I'll leave you lookin' like a [?]

Fuck that

Let me slow it down

I came in this shit, thinkin' it's all fair

'Till I was told crystal clear, keep the pistol near

Listen here to what was written tears

You pricks in your offices, sittin' chairs

Talkin' like your office ain't split in fear

But it's obvious that you're pretty scared

To the same artist that obviously didn't care about reading the small print

Call it a small hint

N.A.S.T.Y, we run our own lives like we can all sprint

And who gives a fuck what you call it?

I just wanna buss without bullshit

Get signed to a label I feel cool with

Why should settle for a Ford when most of these niggas on my level can afford whips?

Sometimes I hear the devil and he's callin'

But never will I fall in

Never will I sell my soul for cheddar

'Cause, in the long run, it could never be worth the torment

Plus, I don't wanna work for a dark force

Just to merk a dancehall

When in hell, you certainly can't pause

Sell my soul

Nah, I'm cool

Forgive I failed my past to talk about the dark force

Cock back, shot crack and swapped slags

But it's not that

I ain't proud of it

This game, I'm trying to get out of it

I've been in and out, in and out

And then you could never say Ghetto ain't down to swing

I've seen it happen from the meanest rappin' to the cleanest stabbin'

You niggas ain't seen shit happen

What you're doing now, I done did it years ago

Black Mercurials, I had seven pairs of those

A pair for each day of the week

Back then, I would've taken your phone and exchanged for Ps

'Dem times I walked with a borer from Poundland

'Dem times I never saw you around man

'Dem times if I saw you, without a doubt, you would get wrapped up and thrown in a brown van

And if you know how I operate, you would co-operate

'Cause no-one in their right mind would wanna swallow eight

Yeah, I said I'm trying to change

But I'm not a saint

No, I'm not a saint

So what you on about?

Do you really want it now?

You don't want a Glock in the mouth

When my niggas are in your house

[?] shottin' your couch

You got an account?

You'll be left with not even a pound

I'm the king, what you really want the crown?

It's clear I'm knocking it down from here to Nottingham Town

I swear I'm the hottest around

Can't compare or copy my sound

Lyrics provided by LRCLIB

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