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!