[Intro: Monkey & D Double E]
Yo
Ooer, ooer
Yeah
It's who, who?
Yo, one-two, one-two
We're running border
It's me, me
Strictly bang out of order
It's murkery
[Verse 1: Monkey]
You're acting hard; you're firming
You're vermin; I spit too determined
Lyrics are disturbing
You'll get what you're deserving
I spit like sci-fi
Coming through your hi-fi
I'm too ill so why try?
What are you, some wise guy? Do you wanta die?
'Cause I take on crews, forget singling
Move cold, leave your neck back tingling
Hot boy's at your flame, no rekindling
I'll wipe out your fame, no rekindling
Your shit stinks; the smell's lingering
Pussyholes will get a fingering
You're shook, stand still and your pockets still jingling
I know you can't mingle in
[Verse 2: D Double E]
'Cah no, you won't be able
You will only be disabled
Try to test the lyrically miracle
You win? That will be a miracle
Sore loser, wanna get physical
Left in hospital's typical
Bullet in the head from the nine minimal
Quickly, easily, and simple
Because you're not no Mission Impossible
So stop going on like you're unstoppable
If you think you're not probable
You'll be the first to find out 'bout the pistol
When your headtop get popped like pimple
Headtop get rocked like cradle
Part of the headtop not visible
You better look into the mirror; it's a miracle
[Verse 3: Footsie]
I'm gonna whack you about
Use my lyric book and smack you about
Hit you with a sixteen bar to your mout'
Or hit you with sixteen bars to your mout'
And leave you with sixteen scars to your mout'
Just cold, yeah, that's all blacked-out
And the gat? Yeah, that's all blacked-out
And I'll put it to your eye and then you're blacked-out
Nah, you don't wanna run it when Footsie's about
You can't chuck it when Footsie's about
Get bare right hooks when Footsie's about
Bare left hooks to your mout'
Nah, you don't wanna run it when Footsie's about
You can't chuck it when Footsie's about
Get bare right hooks when Footsie's about
Bare left hooks to your mout'
[Verse 4: Monkey]
Rudeboy, 'cause I'm ready for war; my troopers, I lead
With a force just like a stampede
My lyrics multiply like they breed
I'm spitting words for you to breathe
Lyrical army I'm gonna build
You're gonna get killed on this lyrical battlefield
Straight through your defence shield
'Cause I spit too skilled
Nah, I'm no chef; for you, I don't cater
When I touch mic, you're the spectator
Spit raw, snap back like gator
Run rings 'round man like the world's equator
I said now who's the greater?
Lyrics stick to your brain like data
Don't understand? My nine mil' is my translator
You impersonator
[Verse 5: D Double E]
I'm armed to the teeth, ready for the beef
If you really wanna see your bredrin get deceased
Draw for the piece, reminding me to fleece
Turn his headpiece into a [?] piece
Pure n****s on the road, they don't want a piece
Don't really wanna go through all the grief
What, you can't get touched? Is that your belief?
My mandem specialise in beef
Which bredrin's gonna back your beef?
Four different man have got a piece to your cheek
'Cah what you believe in, you've got a cheek
And because of that, a man will make you look weak
Inside or outside on the street
You don't wanna buck up with the wrong brehs this week
You'll be left with a lump on your head like a Sikh
And you'll be good food for mandem to eat
[Verse 6: Footsie]
And it's Foots, rudeboy
Stop, think twice; take a look, rudeboy
You wanna run up on my hooks, rudeboy
So my fist [?] rudeboy
If it's beef, it will get cooked, rudeboy
You could never take man for a moot, rudeboy
Chill and smoke your zoot, rudeboy
I'll put holes in your new tracksuit, rudeboy
Them old school methods? I'll use 'em
Right hooks, left hooks? I'll use 'em
Uppercuts, headbutts? I'll use 'em
Knees to the nuts? I'll use 'em
Them old school methods? I'll use 'em
Right hooks, left hooks? I'll use 'em
Uppercuts, headbutts? Yeah, I'll use
Any jaw I see, yeah, I'll bruise
[Verse 7: Monkey]
I'm gonna do it all my way
And decide to pop out the woodwork
But before I'll leave, I'll give it a good murk
Leave a few hurt
Like an accident on the highway
If you're not good then why say?
Why act or why play?
Why even try to spray?
[Verse 8: D Double E]
'Cause you don't wanna start trouble with the Double
The best thing for you is [?] to the Double
Then hold your mouth shut and beware of the Double
'Cause you don't wanna touch mic, your man are in trouble
Make an MC [?]
Make a DJ drop his MCs for the Double
'Cause you can't find a better MC than the Double
If you come against Double, rudeboy, you're gonna struggle
[Verse 9: Footsie]
I'll make my moves on ya
Do a couple wrestling moves on ya
I'll make my moves, do some wrestling moves
With a clothesline leg drop, yeah, that's you
I'll make my moves on ya
Do a couple wrestling moves on ya
I'll make my moves, do some wrestling moves
With a clothesline leg drop, yeah, that's you
[Outro: D Double E]
Ooh
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