[Intro: Skepta]
Yeah, Cel Double, Lay-Z, Skeppy
Professor Teka production
We're back in the business
North London's finest
Tell 'em, slew dis ting
Boy Better Know, TMT

[Verse 1: Cel22]
I'm on a baxxing ting
I said I'm not ramping so you won't see me skin teet'
Come thru, buss man's head with the chair
I don't wanna send man up in the air
I'll show you 'bout six feet
Revenge is sweet and payback's a bitch
I owe you like I'm in arrears
End of the week, I'll have rotten teet'
Yeah, yeah, so I'm back with a new ting
Man better duck down, don't look 'round when I'm shooting
Get spun around when I use it
Shots fly, better mеk a man dance
Like say he's gеtting down with the music
You wanna pree man? Watch how man are moving
Always about when I do tings
All up in my B-I, man wanna be I
Don't tink that you won't tek bad up
Anybody can get bad up, go and get back up
See man's tings, don't try take that up
I was down but I'm back up
They know what I'm worth
I refuse to be here on my face like sideburns
I've gotta break down light work, day to the night work
I come thru then it might work
You man are waste like chicks with nice curves
Bring beef to your door like Guy Fawkes' night
You'll see bare kids with fireworks
Kids better divert, mum, dad too
It's a shame that she had you
Rolling on road with holes in your tracksuit
I will slap you
Darg, I know you ain't moving no damn food
[Verse 2: Lay-Z]
'Cause I am lyrically better than any MC
Wanna duel? Let's get ready, then see
Big bars, know I've got too many, OG
Give me juice, give me Coke, a little Henny, that's me
And boom, I will lyrically bad him up
Draw for the heat; if he gets rude, tan him up
Move all the white and the B, then bag him up
Just haffi laugh at the way that I had him up, bad him up
Straight on a mad ting
Now watch me control the scene like captain
[?] like mummy unwrapped in
So far ahead, you'll think I'm behind
Real talk, look, cuzzy, I've lapped him
There's no sleep, nah, cuzzy, no nap ting
Can't catch me, nah, cuzzy, can't catch him
There's not one scene that I'm matched in
It's a mad ting
'Cause I came in the game real hard, no homo
Sold out my mixtape without a promo
Most MCs are just jokes like Kojo
Talk about road but they don't know so
So I take students back to the dojo
I am the sensei, one-man, solo
Greatest MC
The one that all the haters envy
You can't send for the name, nah, cuz, that's a no-go
I'll dun a man's dance with his own flow
Bax man's head with the mic at his own show
You ain't the same guy on your own, so
But I'm just after the dough-dough
Forget the bird, pounds of the moto
Top three, no Intertoto
Better than average but I still know Joe
[Verse 3: Skepta]
Yo, let me turn this ting into Heat FM
I write bars in my head, I don't need a pen
I already made ten MCs wanna join JLS
'Cause their heart won't beat again
I told them start it, I'll finish it
Since I've been in it, I've been killing it
We give it to the DJ, he's spinning it
You give it to the DJ, he's binning it
Skepta, Lay-Z and Cel Double
Anytime we come through, they smell trouble
They talk about bussing off guns
When the only metal on your waist is a belt buckle
They talk about holding the piece
But when it kicks off, they run to police
They get on my nerves like holes in my teeth
That's why I stay screaming "fuck the police"
Bare rudeness, bare back chat
They just don't like the fact that
Jme's driving a matte black
BMW, looking like Batman
So they put two and two together
They think I'm Robin, but I'm not robbing or shotting
But if we're talking 'bout shotting CDs
Then I'm killing 'em like anthrax
Boy Better Know, TMT
N15, 17, TMD
Man don't wanna see me MC
Hating on a n***a like the BNP
But if you don't like me, just fight me
But trust me, I ain't giving up lightly
'Cause I remember when my line was dead
And I had to take the £18.90
[Outro: Skepta]
Skeppy
Murder