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Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Sam Buckee
Songwriter
RICHARD COWIE
Songwriter
Lyrics
Bad 'em up, bad 'em up, bad 'em up once
If you wanna come and take man for a dunce
I've been on the grind for a hundred months
And I ain't stopped doing music, not once
Bad 'em up, bad 'em up, bad 'em up once
If you wanna come and take man for a dunce
I've been on the grind for a hundred months
And I ain't stopped doing music, not once
See the bars I write, they're like scriptures
I'm famous and everybody takes pictures
I had faith since decks and mixers
And you're a non-believer, so I can't see you in the distance
Picture the game as a whole
It's healthy, like the Boy Better Know tee business
J's my witness, I'm a musician, ask Skepta
Three of us talk, then we make a decision
You know me, I got good vision, rudeboy, listen
Don't fuck about, there'll be a rude boy missing
When the goons start fishing
I'm a LON kid, I got the hood snakes hissing
Me, the shotta that you couldn't really see
Made the dream come true after years of wishing
After years of dissing, after years of swinging
I still do the crime and walk, no
Because everything seems cloudy
I've never been robbed in the game 'cause I'm rowdy
Carry on, I will take a hammer to your Audi
I'm like a soldier from Saudi
You're not bad 'round me
Want a CD, try and howl me
It's next week, and you still ain't found me
The phone starts ringing when I drive through boundary
And where's Lethal? He ain't in boundary
27, big achiever, E2 weaver, had the first Sega
Blud, I emerged out of jungle fever
Volume One Creeper, Roman street sweeper
Don't get gash by the hour rudeboy
I get gash by the metre
Wilehouse senior, lemons will lean ya
E3 teacher, LON preacher
UK speaker, Trinidad bloodline
St Paul's soldier
Northumberland Park, next-door neighbour
Eskimo raver, L-stone visitor, Meridian resident
See me in Manny with President
Shout all my south soldiers
Don't fear olders, never had youngers
Age ain't nothing but numbers
'Cause the 17-year-olds roll with the pumpers
But I'ma temple tourer, champagne pourer
Winchmore warrior, Class A courier
Grime scene ambassador, Duppy maker
Four-four saviour, Ally Pally jungle raver
Entry ticket and a borer
Fresh hair cut, with a side parting and a border
Selby Centre explorer, private caller ignorer
Go on then
I'm an Eskidance keeper, get the weed cheaper
Quantum leaper, the Tottenham high streeter
Eskibeat beater, A-star reader
Four times community service breacher
Back to court, facing jail, the case beater
Robbery, burglary, dad got nicked 'cause of me
The police thought I was a phone shop dealer
Back in the day, I was a wheeler and dealer
Fly to west where the sky is blue and the grass is greener
Paul Smith jeans suit, Air Max typhoon, Choong gash greeter
Yeah, I know Jenny, but I don't know Rita
Plus my Mum's family come from Antigua
You come from West, but you don't know younger or older Beaver
I was in carnival 12 years back with the east and west side leaders
Man are badman, man are breeders
Yo (ah)
Writer(s): Richard Cowie, Sam Buckee
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