Pick Up The Mic

[Verse 1] It's Jme, the grime scene dweller The online MP3 seller The 100% true lyric teller Hand on the bible spit accapella I need listeners, you need a smeller Cause your music stinks Bite my flow and catch salmonella Or get beat box like Killa Kella Pub man ting, widda Stella Left hook, top lip sweller Wobbly tooth, bare Bonjela My wallet is a cheese sandwich First I put in the bread And on top of that I put cheddar And on top of that we're OGs Don't believe me, ask Mela [Verse 2] It's Jme, the grime ambassador The badboy MP3 trafficker If you spit acid, I spit acider You get popped like Pringles paprika You won't spray, man your a panicker Can't chase my status with no stamina You get a texas chainsaw Massacre Modern Warfare silenced Raffica No chaps, no chain, no manager Somehow still you're not in my caliber My lyrics are so detailed As if I made them with a lens and an aperture Professional, not amateur Cause I work all night like Dracula If two of my Friends argue I'm On both sides like the a's in Africa [Verse 3] Go home, look in the mirror Realise no one's scared You tried to diss me, no one cared When you came radio, no one tared You're not hench, you're not bad You just screw up your face all weird Tryna get hype off me you get air Tryna get hype... you get air! You jumped out the whip, no one ran Nobody cares what you got in your hand Nobody cares what you got in your jeans I'll slap you so hard I'll crack your phone screen, yo Don't bring war to the king Don't tell me about draw for the ting, yo Right about now, you're heads so big You get charged more for you're trim, safe!