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Bruv, I didn't look at it this way before But as I approach my birthday All you man are my youngers You man are my youngers, bruv If you can't do 10K first week Then I don't wanna' hear no chat about numbers You man are my youngers All blacked out like grungers Tens and twenties and hundreds Tens and twenties and thousands, uh I can't never just lowe dem (No) On Mount Everest shoutin' (I) Soon go back to the mountains Third album, nigga, I bless the beat with smoke And my day one bros they kept me close Then I sip my Tetley take a toke They're tryna get me on the ropes Ayy, bro got the speshy in his coat So, please man let's just be adults And don't be flexin' in my boat Nigga, you can't test me, I'm the G.O.A.T Rolex collections lookin' dope I got the Pepsi and the Hulk And I ain't flexin' on you niggas Cah I'll still be sexy if I'm broke Songtexte Wait, there and I was made to win like I'm designed to blow We're doin' major things, but it's a minor though I used to pay for things but that was time ago And now I hit you niggas with the Wiley flow, it's like Bad 'em up, bad 'em up, bad 'em up once Never could you take me for a dunce Been on the scene for a hundred months All I met is bare cunts Take man for lunch, eediot youts get punched Pick one boy from your bunch Tell man, "Jump!", oh, what, you didn't wanna jump? Well Oh, well, look, now you're slumped Lil' nigga, I swerve (Lil' nigga I swerve) Get out my lane (Get out my lane) North and East and West are hot but the South's on flames This year I'ma be a household name I grew up in a house of pain I don't do it for the clout or fame All the real niggas gonna' vouch on my name All the real niggas gonna' vouch on my (Vouch on my, woo, vouch on my, vouch on my) Yeah (Yeah, yeah) Yeah (Yeah, yeah) If you ain't got more than five Top 10's Then I don't wanna hear no chat about chartin' You man are just startin' Comin' like a young Chris Martin Start swingin' with my arms like Carlton Start swingin' with my arms like Anthony All my niggas been charged, don't amp me Have your Mrs. in her bra and panty If you see me in the dance, I'm anti, quite frankly Heavyweight champion of the world They wanna' war me for my belt If you ever hear Stormzy caught an L Know I stood tall before I fell There's a couple birthdays comin' up So I took like a quarter from the shelf Spent like a 100 on my mum, then about 140 on myself The Mille; I sport it like Pharrell But I got the Nautilus as well And all of the stories that I've lived, my nigga These are the the stories that I tell Wait there and I was made to win like I'm designed to blow We're doin' major things, but it's a minor though I used to pay for things but that was time ago And now I hit you niggas with the Wiley flow, it's like Run up on them man laughing, fuck it You got a chain but you tuck it, fuck it Man throw dirt on my name, blud, fuck it Slew anybody in the family, fuck it Run up on them man laughing, fuck it You got a chain but you tuck it, fuck it Man throw dirt on my name, blud, fuck it Slew anybody in the family, iyt, iyt My last three tunes kinda prove that I did this Mind what you say, I put a yout on my shit list Must be the same old yout in the dinner hall Primary, sippin' on my juice with my biscuits I'm from a place where we move to da witness Stare in your face, tell 'em "Business is business" Came for the fame but she stayed for the litness Ask your new girl, she loves Mr. Skeng You'll never ever see me with guys known for verbals My bruddas pull up and sky no rehearsals Don't switch sides, there's no role reversals How's the best spitter in grime so commercial? Wait, nobody said you're good, dun your chat Your girl take the wood lumberjack Hit 'em with the lighter flex, humble brag I can't drop the bag, I'm the bag Yeah, yeah If you ain't got no platinum plaques Then I don't wanna hear no chat about— Nah, I'm joking, man Aus Songtexte Mania