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lyrics - p money lyrics

[verse]
i took a year out
and i came back like ‘what, fam?’
any mc squarin’ up i’ll box man
see when i’m on man, hand ting up close
give a man wings, youngers callin’ me bossman (oi bossman)
ribs or legs what you want fam
i ? top guys i don’t wear top man
still on job fam
i ain’t no gym freak, still pickin’ up somthin’ heavy when i spot man (bah!)
you get me? you know like that
you’re ringin’ off at who? i got street cred brudda i can phone right back
ask the price roll right back
react quicker than ?no life shaq? (brrr)
in training you’re a tram manna eurostar them manna got no live tracks (yeah?)
on [?] big enough to sleep on you man ain’t even had shows like that, cause
me
n-body matters
blacked out, big teeth, or it’s a blade so [?]
canada goose while i wrap up these rappers (or)
or trappers
chat about snitchin’, n-body snitched blud you’re in jail cause you went in the booth on a whole tune and blabbered
you are takin’ the p-ss, you’re bladdered (drunk)
you ain’t a stackers
hopin’ your ten-team bet comes in when i’m getting a few hundred k from an ackers
(999 yeah this track gettin’ battered)
i gave ?a? young gun a go [?]
[?] highlights givin’ it to [?] (mad)
i don’t know any computer geeks [?] deep, they’re serious hackers (mmm)
i got a new one and i might call this ‘jack’
ca’ manna touch mic they can’t tell me jack (yeah)
jump in the riddim and the riddim get jack (che!)
your wifey wanted my number, when she ask for my name i said it was jack (hahaha)
backstage lif’ up her skirt like jack (mmm)
now when you beat she’s moaning “jaack”
got you thinking “who the h-ll’s jack?” (huh?)
look in her phone bet you gonna see ‘jack’ (ah!)
text messages, bet you gonna see ‘jack’ (ah!)
call register, bet you gonna see ‘jack’
whatsapp too, yeah, you gonna see ‘jack’ (oi jack)
now you’re rounding up your bredrins g-ssed up like “nah, man’s gonna k!ll jack” (nah)
then you realize p money is jack (wut?)
and walk past me like you can’t see jack (shook)
you think man’s stupid
cause i dress like this and do grime music
they hear my crowd and they think “who’s this?
he must be good tho, look how they lose it!”
they can’t holla me whenever they choose it
whenever they talk man block and mute it
mc sign deals and think they’re ballers
brudda i will take your deal and boot it
about “why”. man’s not stupid
you walked in fresh never owed n-body you signed a contract then left with debt (ah?)
ain’t got a clue. to them man it’s rubik’s
and your a&r secretly knew this
he don’t care, and your manager spent your first ten percent then jumped on a cruise ship
i woulda dashed that contact out like bang!
i never got the award ca’ i’m still putting man inna hospital ward
if i pull up in a honda accord (ah!)
it’s long clips teeth so big he’ll have to floss with a sword (mad)
i don’t know why they wanted a war
i ball out with hooligans i’m scr-ppin’ at home and abroad
you weren’t there you were at home with your broad (mmm)
tell ’em when i’m chefin’ this beef i ain’t messin’ gordon rams’ couldn’t handle the sauce (huh?)
big boy sets surrounded by 20 dead mc’s feelin’ like i’m trapped in a morgue
turn man into a corpse, burn man alive with the fantastic four
what you expect when you man gas up a torch (ah?)
sets on my own, mic in my left, blade in my right never ever had my back to the door
luke skywalks when i cut man with force
you don’t want me battlin’
batter ‘im when i grab a snake and rattle it
firing so many sh-lls from the top the ground looks like a gravel pit (woah)
wanna see what i got ’till i unravel it (sh!)
look how they stutter and babble it
you ain’t on backin’ it (ah!)
when it gets messy they don’t tackle it (ah!)
take who chain ?i bought? you ain’t havin’ it (nope!)
never caught that line but claim you’re trap, innit?
fool, it’s not that innit? (nah)
you ain’t got the belly you’re chattin’ it
if i left the money you’re grabbin’ it
skateboard mc. you been on the grind for years without stackin’ it, every year attackin’ it
that’s why i’m busy
summer after summer
man knows man busy
they don’t know dylan but still every mc that i span knows what it’s like to be
dizzee (mad)

- p money lyrics

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