[Verse]

Whether you're in HMV or KFC, HMP or A&E

I make them see a-n-d. let you know the c-a-s-e

From LDN not NYC, on the m-i-c I'm M.I.B.,

Like BIG the MVP, VIP to the e-n-d

E.g., my CD, is way to d-e-e-p

That goes for your TV screen, DVD or BBC

ITN or ITV, C-O-Ps say "ID please"

S-t-o-p like IC3, wanna see me hooked to an IV, g

In the ICU but Im n-o-t, they went OT with the m-o-b

Can't see me through the f-o-g

Don't cuss mothers of S.O.B's

These MC's are OAPs

Wanna hype up I'm like "okay, g."

You think you're b-a-d

Get a p-e-n and a p-a-d

If the CIA and the FBI, the MI6 and the MI5

Jump on the A3 then I drive, turn up the A/C, FYI

MJ like P.Y.T,, lol I never T.Y.P

I e-a-t on E.I.D,twist the C.I.D like Levi Jeans

D-i-e like BNP;EDL just BFG's.

Youths don't want no GCSE's they want C.O.D. on the PS3

I'm like DP, or PE, or KRS from BDP

Download this on your MP3

Send it to your MP & MTV

You're not on this thing like A.D.D

Your CD I rate PG

Like KKK's with AK's

My A.K.A is AA

Take you off the road ASAP

DDT these JLS MC's

What you just saw basically

Is how to murder the ABC's

Cause I'm back in the booth

Rappers wanna chat about the strap they got stashed in the back of their boot

But I chat to the youths

Abstract or back-packed my attributes and stack to the roof

I capture the truth

Pour it on tracks with my views, and I'll sell it out the back of the boot

I'm positive you're negative, you're whack and confused

I'm back and the fact is your dad's in the room

Ain't a track that you rappers can battle with

Every track that I spat is immaculate

Any track that I smash, I'm attacking it

Heard you rap fam, your tracks are inadequate

Your CD was cack, it was crap, I'm dashing it

You follow fashion with rap, I'm passionate

Blood start's splashing - your whip - you dash in it

Said you were packing a mac in the back of it

Kizzy, I'm busy, I'm really a brilliant guy

It's gritty and shitty but really the city is mine

If you diss me, pity the silly billy to try

From Bricky to Piccadilly to Mississippi I'm live

Getting rid of you Milli Vanilli's, gimme the vibe

Get jiggy like Willy spitting the wittiest rhymes

Uncivilised, ignorant, diligent type

And I victimise an idiot a million times

Hey hey, we ray rays will spray flames

Take snakes off the road like AA

So waste brays, vacate, and make space

You bait fakes ain't straight, you stay fake

We chase papes, you chase dames like 'Babes wait!'

On a lay-lay you date rape to save face

In the same place, we maintain and ain't changed

We make tapes that rake papes like Kay-Slay

Don't dismiss or diss this we live this from Lisbon to Ipswich

For instance the dick's got your sister addicted

Oh look, big tits came for a quick fix

You're limper than Bizkit you nitwits

A monster, a beast, when I stomp on the beat

If the nonsense you speak is not gonna cease

Unconscious but leave unconscious MCs

Don't respond to the beef if your nonces or neeks

Get ill up on the rhythm when I kill 'em on a lyrical

Finish up my dinner then I drill 'em with a syllable

Don't really care what you did and what you didn't do

Little fools are minuscule, spitting isn't difficult

You find your mind cause I'm out of mine

Fuck a pound sign, came for the crown of grime

I told you once, I told you a thousand times

I'm a fountain of acid, you're alkaline

You alcoholics are out of line

Got a mountain to climb if your mouth is lying

Bow to his highness, I'm bound to shine

Let me coach you on vocals and how to rhyme

Think I'm vexed with your indirects

If I spit rhymes next I will slit five necks

I'm a big time threat, to your pissed sly vets

This guy lives life inside stress

I'm the best in the game, not impressed with the fame

I'm testing my aim if I send for your name

The successful are lame, they kept it the same

But whatever the weather, it's destined to change

Couldn't give a fuck for your creps and your chains

You slobber on the mic like a sket giving brain

I'm mental, deranged, crush temples and frames

My pencil will end you like petrol and flames

Burn like syphilis, you nerds are privileged

When I die you can say that you heard the sickest spit

My verse it limitless, the earth is spinning quick

Pure words of wickedness that I merk the rhythm with

Heard you were good, It's a shame that you're not

Don't care about your chain or the fame that you got

Keep my name on your brain cause I came for your spot

What you're making is pot, they say it's a lot

You're whack bro with your cat flow

But you're whack though put your cap low

Prat go back home

This monster is stronger than Castro's backbone

I attack those little fat bowcats so...

Don't ever get arrogant

Don't start panicking, phone your management

Mumbling, man are in the manor getting mad again

Don't care about your swagger, mandem, or medallion

What's the matter then, maggot where's your magnum?

When there's beef, mandem are missing like Madeleine

I've been badder than you and your bag of men

What's happening when I kill 'em with a pad and pen

Ain't got the bars in your pad to match me

Me I'm so fast, you should catch a taxi

Have you got the picture like Paparazzi?

You lack the facts that go back-to-back, b

When I watch you rap it's like crazy comedy

I got a 'don't rate fake G' policy

Fuck your awards, I don't rate these nominees

Just little fickle Jay-Z wannabes

You hobos are old and It's oh so true

No promo, logo, or photo-shoot

Fuck your postcode, MOBO and polo suit

My opponents are hoping I won't go through

I'm certainly burning these burglars verbally

Merking these merkers 'til mercenaries murder me

Burst in and turnin' your Burberry burgundy

Guernsey to Germany, Jersey to Bermondsey

True rhymes, ain't got a pen? You can use mine

Ain't stayin' underground like a tube line

I'm'ma come through and shine, in due time

Which one of you pricks said I can't do grime?

Genre crosser, nonsense stopper

Continent stomper, the conscious monster

The freedom fighter, deepest writer

Beat up cyphers, the peoples' rhymer

I'm bond to get iller, the sound effects killer

The Malcolm X spitter, the alphabet killer

Not a player hater, lady dater

Maybe later a baby maker

I get slept on like old pyjamas

Will I blow up like boats in the harbour?

You spit fire, I'm molten lava

Flow so cold I scold your father

Sold your soul for gold and Prada

Who do you know who's flow goes harder?

It's over partner, you know the answer

Drop bombs on the rhythm, no Obama

Baseline murderer, fake guy hurter, race line hurdler

Face flying all over the place like furniture

I'm back so hard might break my vertebrae

Beat breaker, heat taker, sheet of paper cremator, since a teenager

DJs can't be BKRs cause if they do they'll get PAR'd

I'm back so let me see, the facts are very deep

You prats will never see, I rap to any beat

Pack the pen and P, practice every week

Attack the melody, and smash my enemies

Not a sent bro, but you're getting dough

With a bent flow jacking off Jay-Z like a little klepto

And the tempo went slow

Done a lot in my lifetime, I was retro

Everybody bow to the king cause he's back

Whether or not radio was in his track

Forget Nas and his dad cause I'm bridging the gap

You think it's just rap, but it's bigger than that

If it's tit for tat, I got the gift of the gat

What you spit is just shit, blood, stick to the facts

You itch like a cat that's addicted to crack

I'm sick of you Prats, cause you shitheads is whack

I'm a G, any beat, I will damage

Very deep, whether it be grime or garage

Enemies better flee, I won't have it

You'll never be ahead of me you blind old maggot

If you really really live crime, don't chat it

If you really really got a 9, go grab it

Then, if you're live, don't hide, don't panic

Just ride like a psycho that might go manic

Don't settle with the rest, cause I'm better than the best

Not just clever, yes I'm intelligent and best you

Better invest in some weapons and a vest

You veterans are vexed, irrelevant and stressed

Keep telling us your rep, but you never get respect

You fed up cause seven of your regiments are messed

You could get a bit of press for that ice on your neck

It's not credit, it's a debt

I'm here for the beat, just save all the nonsense

Murk it whether a rave or a concert

When I'm on stage, make way for the monster

Key to the Game: I came, toured, and conquered

Spit on your bars, I spray more for longer

You spit boring, chainsaw's are stronger

You're a boxer, wait, you're a mobster

Ain't got time for fake fraud impostors

I'm a champ, deep MC and it's blatant

But tramps wanna sleep on me like a pavement

When I speak, I leave them chiefs in amazement

Meanest genius, I'm free like a mason

But I don't sleep with police at the station

I'm writing my rhymes, you're completing your statement

Running from the swine while you're eating your bacon

Don't rip beats, I beat them and break 'em

Most MCs don't believe them or rate 'em

It's no secret, these neeks are just hating

Keep on saying that my team isn't flaming

Light fire like them trees that you're blazing

Double P, trouble we, there'll be an invasion

Test us? Get left deep in the basement

Don't care whether you're from Ealing or Leyton

Middle Eastern or Asian...

Little man never did exams

Got a particular bigger plan flippin' grams

'Til a bigger man in his gang gave him a stick to bang

Or maybe just hold cause no one thought he would kill a man

'Till he caught a silly billy villain, chillin' in a jam

Sippin' champs, spliff in his hand, trigger didn't jam...

Bang bang biddy bang biddy biddy bang

Now he's in the can thinkin' "Damn, what a pity fam."

Rappers are yapping and flapping their lips

'Bout how they're packing and clapping their sticks

Has to be big, the impact it has on the kids

Tell me where the factory is

When the government kill, they're just stacking their chips

You wonder why the yout-dem are strapped and they're pissed

If not a nine, it's a knife getting jabbed in your ribs

People die for the petrol, the gas in our whips

In London, you can get shanked in the heart

Still the government put more tanks in Iraq

Ignorant little spitters are talking greasy

Cause they bitten bitties that they saw on TV

If all you rap about is the hoes and the dough

It's already too late, you sold 'em your soul

You jokers act like you know but you don't

Cause there's little kids dying all over the globe

Many say they know what revolution could be

But many don't know what revolution would mean

It would mean blood, it would mean pain

But it could be us to bring that change

Little hypocrites are spittin' typical nonsense

Am I blackballed because of political content?

Laugh at my people while you criminals bomb them

Militant on the rhythm, I'm killing you on the song then

History you won't read in a textbook

Kunta Kinte, I bleed from my left foot

Never see me on the TV with Jedward

Tell the BBC they need me on Westwood