[Verse 1: AJ Tracey]

It could all go wrong on a grim day

Ruin man's day, give a fuck what his ting say

Don't get pumped cuh your chick's in sight

Cuh the 44 long looks thick like Kim K

Drama like a goal in the 90th

In the dance, wapped up, I'm a 90s kid

Grab a bitch, spilling yak when I'm wavy

Red Bull all on her chest, that's hyper tits

See, it's hot in my bits

See, in my bits, let sticks pop in my bits

Young Gs with a flick and a rock in my bits

My niggas are on tops in my bits

In my bits, don't come to my block

Dial in man for the bits on the blocks

You're a sideman, Lonsdale all on your top

And you cat for the dro when you don't have gwop

Armani man bags, not here for the fashion

One hand in if a yout starts gassing

Headstart, run but the T will catch him

No encore, see the snub start clapping

There's bare machines like Maplin

He left his iPhone in the seat that he sat in

Girls try run all over the set

Burst tryna dodge bros and the shots start flapping

Insta drop man, no iPhone apping

Friends get snapped so they wanna start backing

Bare change pots, I'm Django jacking

UPS goons cuh the team's all packing

Get banged for the greaze they are chatting

Gunman? Who? What rifle you clapping?

Still clingfilm that I keep rapping

Temper tantrum in the trap, I'm stamping

[Verse 2: Mic Ty]

I don't think they can handle the guy

Like "how we gonna take his lines in the night?"

That's mad, that's facts

When I'm gassed, there ain't no drought when I sight

I'm pulling off shots, I am fully on job

I ain't talking white as in white

I'm talking grime as in grime

Yeah, the name's Mic to the Ty with the livest of vibes

Since this guy has arrived

Since this guy has arrived, they strive off the hype

That's normal, so

Shell this shit on the normal, bro

Get my bread, that's normal dough

Truth be told, your corpse is owed with your awful flows

I'm on set and you've said two bars

With your Beckham tekkers, it's best you pass

That's real, these were bedroom bars

Not a year ago, these were bedroom bars

Now I guess Déja is the bedroom, darg

I talk stuff, talk, cuz, you talk crud

But talk up when I tool up, your talk's done

You still don't get it, you can mark me out the game, cuz

You still won't win it

I'm Suarez, you're a bit-back

If you didn't get that, you're a bit-back

New fresh of breath like a Tic Tac

And the flow is nice, it's mad, you get that

You'll get left back if you don't Patrice Evra

Sorry, if you don't practice ever

Specially if you're not match-fit, brother

Can't match me, brudda, score hat trick, bruddas

[Verse 3: AJ Tracey]

No greaze bars in this one, no lie

I collect art, so I'm on an artsy vibe

So forward that I can't rewind

Man, I'm so cashed out that I can't decline

You man are broke and you're hating

No bra for bruddas that get weighed in

You man are haps cuh your jeans cost two bills

Fam, I spend that on a frame for my painting

SB.TV, Rinse, BBC 1Xtra

I've had a whole bag of airtime

I've got bare sick bars, can't air mine

I heard man's send, but where is it?

It must have got lost like a Malaysian airline

I'm on point like a Caucasian hairline

You man are wank cause you wank in your spare time

Me, I just vibes, write bare lines

[Verse 4: MicTy]

Murking again and it must be told

Ain't gonna lie, man, I love it loads

I'm just getting my bread up, we touching loafs

[?] gone, I'm coming home

Might see me in Greengate with a few team mates

Yeah, let's go now

They replaced the pub with a Tesco now

It's still a place where the mess goes down

Down, MicTy will dead your sound

Don't wow, you see him as a threat, no doubt

Let's see how long the best holds out

When I'm breathing down his neck for a while

Name's MicTy, got a next profile

Come against me? Need Jesus, bro

Yeah, yeah, your team is jokes

You've got no chance just like England's hopes

[Verse 5: AJ Tracey]

Who's this yout tryna stunt on the back roads?

He'll get wet like Kelly from BangBros

Yeah, I drive through, hit it back, then I slang Os

No COD 4, wig shot for the tangos

He's tryna screw, getting fucked up

He'll get wet like a ting getting touched up

Cuh he weren't saying that much when we bucked up

Now your wife's all on the phone like 'tut tut'

[Verse 6: MicTy]

Where I'm from, manor is mental

Don't get man ah man ah mental, dem man ah man ah mental

Watch your manors, are you mental?

Run up on your flat and your manor, that's mental

Where I'm from, manor is mental

Don't get man ah man ah mental, dem man ah man ah mental

Watch your manors, are you mental?

Run up on your flat and your manor, that's mental