Live (feat. Merky Ace)

Everything's live, everything's live

Fuckin' hell, fam, everything's live

Behind the tints in my seat, live

Step out, see me on the street, live

Stage shows with my peeps, live

Tres, this fuckin' beat? Live

Big man done pass 30, live

Certi, live Merky, live

Everything live, wow, just like Raskit

Everything live, opposite of casket

Andthe corn live too, make you do a hand spring

Then a backflip, shoulda read a pamphlet

Trust, no plan B, MC only, ten years deep

Badman, no contingency

Doin' this thing in its infancy

Man see me and start do parkour

Rhetorical question, why's man runnin' for?

Get over here like Kombat, more

Tools is what I need in war

Stay on point and that

Road block traffic, leave a gap in front of the whip

In case man has to fuckin' swing a U-turn

And double back

The high road is hot

But don't think man won't come and cotch

Whether you like it or not

London is my block

The girls from back in the day

That used to say Jexis when I had the lurgies

Now wanna sex me, heard through the grape vine

That I sell Pepsi, psych

I'm just a MC

Kermit's giving me eyes and sipping Tetley

And if the boydems listening live then fuckin' get me

Or not, I turn my volume up to the top

I didn't hear the siren, rudeboy, what?

Chattin' bare shite about failing to stop

From the thread depth for my tires

A-C-E and J-M-E tryna maintain and stack legal P

But we'll stick kick out your molar, canines and incisors

And your wisdom teeth, might see me in your local Sainsburys

Testin' out the dairy-free cheese

Snapback, BBK tee

Then I jump in the whip with a T

Not no Aventador SV

I'll tell you like Lethal told me

Don't cop one if you can't afford three

Badman for them? That's fine, not me

A man brought waps, no ice on me

I done gripsed this man shirt and slap man

Like it was a Judo Gi

Still gyall say I'm cinnamon churro sweet

But she don't know me

She don't know 'bout my family tree

Might see me with a couple OGs

Yeah, boy, better know Meridian roll deep

Opps next door, don't look at us

For sugar and milk cah we ain't got nothing for ya, chief

Last time you knocked man's door

You was all asking to turn the music down a piece

Fuck that, feel this bass

Knock all you want, you won't see this face

Next time I leave my yard

I'll have my Beats by Dres on just in case man wanna converse

Dead crep, SK Airs, any time that I step

I'm on my jones, ain't got no jewels

But boys on the road still wanna dip sets

I put swammies in a man-bag

If he's the father, I'm the granddad

Turm white T-shirt into Tampax

I box, boot, a man, stab

Heavy in the ting like sandbag

Better yet, wet sandbag

Mad savage, they really drag

Ride in dingers and dip in cab

Man sick, no influenza

My aura make gyal tell Victoria Secrets

And expose her centre, please remember

I roll with guys with a greaze agenda

But you don't know about grime

Yeah, fam, what you still know about me and Skepta?

UK gang shit, been a member

No joke ting, no Bo Selecta

No joke ting, no Inbetweeners

So my date of birth on my Tanitas

Man wanna test in their two-seaters

Man wanna test in their two-litres

Light goes green, if you're looking for me

Better look in front about 20 metres

Put this one, one track, repeat us, repeat us