kamakaze - road rage lyrics
[verse: kamakaze]
i’ve been about since ‘kama-who?’
since roll deep made heartache avenue
see i’m a big dog; no i’m not scr-ppy doo
them man are weak spirited like malibu
i’m more than nice
morgan spice
head up in the clouds, northern lights
it’s a next ting, head spin
warrior i’m red skin
i am the sh-t that you stepped in
attack with a hammer and sickle, does that make me left wing
man can’t walk in my crep ting
attack from the sky, yeah that’s zeppelin
man moves sly, know who’s a bredrin
see they ain’t baking a loaf, they’re cutting your slice
and making a toast
they ain’t chip from the bottle, they’re making a toast
don’t bring to the table, they take from the host
i ain’t ghost, i’m a poltergeist
when i did it for me, i’m walter white
i got two wheels, yeah that’s a motorbike
man wanna snake me, then know the price
skit so we told them right
i can make you an enemy over-night
man got hennessy, c-ke and ice
man got the remedy, flow that’s nice
my yout’, you can never be with it
that’s a series of unfortunate events, lemmony snicket
got c-ke, mixed hennessy with it, i’m the fox, never the chicken
like, like bawk, bawk, you go round in circles like duck duck goose
till we get f-cked up, truth
i swear the tape it must of come unstuck, or a couple knots
must of come loose and just to conclude
you must be confused
you can never do what i does, cuz
i fit the profile
i am the un-sub, twenty-one, still no b-mfluff
yeah, man will get tucked up, your at home in your room getting tucked up
me i’m out with the goons getting f-cked up
but i swear my life’s kinda f-cked up
but i’m looking for a happier day
i got my city on my back, i’m tryna carry the weight
but mcs want to come and get carried away
that’s when they get body bagged and carried away
used to have big bars back in the day
man used to hate, why i was unsure
tying to step on matt like i was next to the front door
come against me then you’re done for
give you a run for your money
go on then, go on then, come for me sonny
cold out here, my country ain’t sunny
got no ps, blud, you still ask mum for your money
look, and if you can’t tell – b.l.g., i still rep for the cartel
used to spit bars with scheme and the marcel
if you got a coat, better mix it with a mar-tell
remember way back, back in day when man said i used to let ‘matic spray
carry on talking like that, why’s that then?
grime sounds better in a northern accent
on the ball in a more than rap sense
we are the local morgan’s mad men
had big bars from way back when
now i’m back on my leicester sh-t
and i’m doing it again like skepta did
i am the yout’ they want to get extra with
i press your chick, then i s-x and dip
left on the side of the road like
call a cab, call your dad, don’t expect a lift
and the rest a myth, i spin heads like the exorcist
know you man are vexed and p-ssed
probably cause i f-cked your ex and sis
you get me? b.lg
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