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dot rotten - it's over (ft. wiley's mum) lyrics

[intro]
look, i think i’m don king
mike tyson
muhammad ali, i like fighting
one punch, you’ll hit the ground
hit records have you on your bottom sitting down

[verse 1]
everyday another new mc dies out
run up on who?
no entry in my house
your rhymes, your content’s empty
better talk sensibly
or i’ll send kane to wile out
p-ssing on roman, candles light out
used to strangle all night
domestic violence when i [?] angle high
i’m ten steps ahead of this ritual guy
plus everybody knows that i ride out firing
kylea’s a pr-ck, i’ll circ-mcise him
scars in your face don’t make you a g
shank when your kid [?] sixteen
f-ck you and your bentley
i’ll smash through the windscreen
i’ll slash the tires and hope they burst while you’re driving
what’s your purpose of rhyming?
when the truth is that you’re cursed being wiley
desperate man making desperate moves
k!ll me, you are not destined to
f-cked up the game on your records through
and your mum is a fiend of the big man ting
will’s mum is a fiend
she’s a f-cking disease
my mum would invite you for crumpets and tea
then slice you and dice you for f-cking with me
just like kane
mz bratt’s something like nicki
i’m wayne
come bricky, it will get sticky
i’m a big dog with a very large bite
but i’ll give man a mark and it won’t be a hickey
it’s more like a box in the face
you’ll get robbed if you wore all the [?] for a chains
i’m a hood rep, gets more props than your name
i guess you couldn’t k!ll me
dudududu-badadada
aim your gun fingers
dudududu-dadadada

[verse 2]
wiley perform with the pipe in a [?]
because his mum’s dangerous spread is vile as a dog
your mum, she’s been f-cked bare times
she’s a wh-r-
she can barely remember the guys from before
h-llo, it’s all war talk
you don’t have the laugh
i think that i’ve k!lled him because it’s real talk
real recognise real
there’s a bar that i raised
william can’t reach it, he’s still short
black, your mum’s a real life crackhead
you’ll catch her on bow on the sidestreet
i know man that have shotted your mum slows
real talk, no lies in the mic g
how you gonna act like a gangsta
with that scar in your face from kane?
you’re g-y, f-ck you
how you gonna diss my mum
when your mum sniffs lines and pipes
and she don’t even love you
if i sold all of your siblings a kilo of c-ke
you’d be gone in a sp-ce of an hour
and it’s twisted, lord is my witness
course he’s addicted
wiley’s kids with the face full of powder
you ain’t big at all, still coughing up pubic hairb-lls
stuck in your throat from liverpool
i’m enormous, you’re minuscule
i’m a master writer, you’re just lyrical
there’s a big difference, from instance
i’m about to start on your past, your pinnacle
f-ck all your wisdom
nothing you say is enough to explain when you dress like women
test my vision
i’m a good boy but manlike d row
respect my villain
who is he kidding?
he is a t-tfake like devlin says
so pretend i’ll k!ll him

[verse 3]
you will not catch me praying in church
but i leave all laying in dirt for his disses
temper a sin, you should go and repent for your sins
on the way you’ve been playing with children
we know you’re a perv, faulty
but your childhood getting raped in the -n-l by [?]
would cry every night, caged in a prison
but smile in the showers, behaving ridiculous
i spell my name on janae or her j-zz strip
w-nk in her face and spray at her lipstick
in your head you’re like “oh my days, he flipped it”
your mum’s got a pum full of std viruses
and you got a face full of syphilis
oh man, this is the age of the whiz kid
you spat a dub, though that i wouldn’t come back
things ain’t going the way you predicted

[verse 4]
alb-m tour sales are astounding
you won’t sell a hundred thousand
you’re in debt to all the labels
that’s why all your cheques are bouncing
it’s not easy being homeless
yet your mum in council housing
get her off the sniffing powder
and exchange it for some talent
come around south west 9
at 10 greazy when beefing get surrounded
you talk like graham norton
and you’ve had brought right where your mouth is
if grime is your estate
you’ll see me refurbishing the houses
you’re a coward, we all know you ain’t about it

[chorus]
you ain’t got no gun
you ain’t k!lling anyone
you’re the one that’s getting spun
also you just suck your mum
you ain’t k!lling nothing
you ain’t k!lling nothing
you ain’t got no gun
you ain’t k!lling anyone
you’re the one that’s getting spun
also you just suck your mum
you ain’t k!lling nothing
you ain’t k!lling nothing
you ain’t k!lling nothing
you ain’t got no gun
you ain’t k!lling anyone
you’re the one that’s getting spun
also you just suck your mum
you ain’t k!lling nothing
you ain’t k!lling nothing
you’ve been sniffing something

[outro]
it’s over, i think i’m don king
mike tyson
muhammad ali
i like fighting

- dot rotten lyrics

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