Nutcrackerz (feat. Giggs)

Cause man ain't bumping him or you Man ain't bumping him either Man ain't come for him Man ain't come to grin neither Man ain't comforting geezers, ease up Man ain't jumping in neither Man just jumpy and eager beavers Shit ain't sunken in neither Man just old school from Gloucester Grove When man had comfortable Fila Back when [?] didn't even live there It was Josh and Makeda Back when gangsters weren't even shooting Man took chunks with that cleaver Back all Super Dee, Stone Love days Yep, Jamrock Sound, Metro Media Back in the day when I was broke I was on Bow Road and looking out for eaters Back in the day before I had seven figures Our bredders were begging me for features Back in the day before bloggers and tweeters Before they knew I was a genius They were the days when I was excluded From school for fucking with my teachers I was so damn facetious I would leave em with fevers Seizures, bunch of holes in my sneakers Back in the day before I had that Brand new Range Rover, looking devious Previous, I was moving mischievous None of my girlfriends were divas Making moves was the easiest Please don't make me get deeper I was linking Kamika Ice Rink and that Creeper Had em dropping in caesars Jesus, bunch of unstable geezers Bunch of peelers and dealers Demons, they were holding them beaters We were owning them speakers Man came back with that classic Man came back with that Raskit Rolled up with them Rottweilers And came back with Bullmastiffs Quickly grab them six brownings Women grab me two taxis There's a negative and a plus side Hollow's back with new batteries Hold up, coming back for you fassies Better run home, could I [?] the new lassy Them two straps are too massive Jumped out, pap pap pap with two maccies Quick, jump back in front seat and back seat Pricks get bought Ribena and Capri Don't gas me I was in the back streets, couldn't catch me On a jack spree They looking at me like "why you wanna rap me?", that's crappy I was actually not flashy They couldn't hack me All-black in my Nike Air tracky And I went all out on a fassy And I didn't make beats on a lappy What you know about Rex in Stratty? Exactly Had a yatty, in Hackney Big batty, a bit scatty But I was happy Cause she cooked saltfish and ackee She didn't clap me So I've gotta give thanks to Selassie Shy FX and UK Apache The speaker blowing, better keep it going Mention Hollowman when your speaker flowing Get that mozzarella cheese, get the pizza going Seen your gully side, now your weak is showing My nigga Dizzee Ras, they say he's a poet They hear we drop a track, niggas tippy-toeing Now come around a man with your pissy poems I've got bitches on my dick and their lippy showing