[Intro: Southside JB & Merky ACE]

Dirty

Yeah

Hold it in my hand, two-handed

I done left blood in these streets

Sick head, horrible, rude

Do things you ain't thought of

Whoa

Coming up off me? Now that won't happen

Who's that? What's that? Dot-dot

Terrible torture

[Verse 1: Merky ACE]

Still moving erratic

Things on me, I ain't going to the attic

Bring who? Do what? Man ah just grab him

Red dot pon him head like pauper Aladdin

Jerk man's food that he just finished bagging

Coming up off me? That won't happen

Reverse the ting, not jamming, spinner's not jamming

Come back next week, calm, like "yo, what happened?"

I want a lightskin ting from Clapham

Eight straps and a G-wagon

Dem boy gwan go buy jewellery in Hatton

We tek the tings, then send them back to Hatton

Check the profile, more time serious

Dem boy dere get flattened

Man circle the spot like Saturn

Came with the who? What? Mek a man doo-wop

Not Lauryn when I say Hill

Juice gon' spill

Tryna mek man French kiss canvas, so romantic

Hold it in my hand two-handed

Crash, bang, he's slumped on the landing

Ratchet came through clanking

Boom-boom, boom-boom, man's blanking

Who's that? What's that? Dot-dot

Nah, man know that's the hand ting

Leave the shush at home on that Joe there

Cuh you might haffi main road crash it and dash it, gone

Man ah pull back like elastic, calm

Whoa, strike like matchstick

Get a refund for your obeah garbage (rubbish!)

Might move like Mugabe

And Idi Amin and dem boy dere

If a man step in, then boy start fret

When they leave them house, them nuh expect death

Straight cash-in-hand, me nuh accept cheque

Except when me count up label bread

I'm able, turn all the tables

Head-over-heels, man make rules

Dem boy dere can't come to the Gaza

Not even to buy ten eight-balls

Dash it in his face, fuck a convo

Came with the suttin' in my long coat

Lick off his head like strongbow

Juice gotta spill like Um'Bongo

Flock OT, that's on toe

And local but it's chotch though

You ain't gotta ask, I'm live

But you can let me know what you want, though

[Verse 2: Southside JB]

Dirty Deptford, dirty

.44 Remington teeth

Make your mum dress all churchy

I've turned down sex for beef

I'm still tryna roast this turkey

I've done left blood on these streets

I've been putting in from early

Man ah go shoot me a birdie

Straight up greazy ting

This .44 here

Don't know about talking and reasoning

Man ah fill up a boy with lead

Put all these teeth in him

Then I shove this blade in far

Pray it goes deeper in

Nobody in sight for a mile

It looks quite peak for him

He didn't wanna get this blade

But man still sneak it in

Just smoke on smoke on smoke on smoke

No shisha ting

Man ah soak his coat or poke his throat

Blood seeping in

It looks quite peak for him

Back out the rammy on him

Dirty, ram it in him

The pum pum thought he was bad

Till man flang it on him

Bullets on a cannibal ting

Brain cells hanging on him

The mizzy had never been used

Until man rang it on him

Terrible torture

Burn man's skin for a hour

Don't give him no water

Sick head, horrible, rude

Do things you ain't thought of

Man gun buck the top of your head

Now the nigga looks shorter

Kill everybody in your house

But your son and your daughter

In ten years' time

I'll put your kids in the corner

Boy turned bad, got nicked

Then turned informer

Hot head, yeah?

Well, these bells make that warmer

Fullers