R U Dumb?

[Verse 1: Jme] You think you're a badman to the fullest Cause you got a couple of shotbun gullets Don't run it up and make me get dark Cause I will chief you up in the par cark Tell your girlfriend to leave me alone Stop ringing my phobile mone Serious, it's getting on top Jeez, can't even shop to the bops I'm slim but I ain't got anorexia I spit like I've got dyslexia You don't want to make me get vexed Or you'll find out about my tourettes Boy Better Know Don't mess with Skepta, my bro My family, Joseph Junior My name's Jamie Adenu- Shh hut yuh muh Derkhead, wasteman, poomplex I don't know what you're thinking But it's not a me-and-you-spitting-in-the-same-room flex When I enter, you exit, cah You said shit 'bout me and Skepta See, now shit can't be perfect, cah You let the situation get complex Shh hut yuh muh Derkhead, wasteman, poomplex I don't know what you're thinking But it's not a me-and-you-spitting-in-the-same-room flex When I enter, you exit, cah You said shit 'bout me and Skepta See, now shit can't be perfect, cah You let the situation get complex [Verse 2: Wiley] Yo, yo, well everything seems clearer Seems like Eskiboy is the key bearer You on my level? No you ain't getting any closer Than last time I checked you're getting nearer, blud I can't hear ya, your best friends Can't compare ya, when I'm 'ere, come out the area How dare ya, ya getting bright Might get a couple shots in your new Porsche Carrera Yep, yep, yep, I eat lamb curry and roti I'm a war MC, they can all quote me And I might punch you in the boaty When you get up everything seems floaty I guess you wanna find me but I move low key In your house with no key, climb through the window You know me, my name's Wiley Yeah I'm that brere with a goatie You and your boys came round and thought you could fold me I'm from a city, not Holby Who's this chavvy looking brere? He looks like Jan Mølby It sounds like he's talking in Dolby Telling me he's gonna leave my t-shirt holey Wasteman, he can't test Wiley Coyote If it's the last thing I'll do I'll revenge Anybody that tries to stop me or hold me [Verse 3: Cookie] It's the downtown boy Drop boys to the floor then I stamp down boys Boys get boyed, oh boy I'm not a boy, I make big boys look smaller Downtown baller, clamp down boys Drop boys to the floor then I stamp down boys Boys get boyed, oh boy I'm not a boy, I make big boys, look I'm in and around the bits, see me around the strip They can never hold Cooks down, I'm bound to flip I know you're bound to slip, walking around The hood with no gun, it's obvious you ain't down for it I know I'm down for it You can catch me down town, with the goonies from round town We hold it down Used to be so many guys on the road but we own it now I ain't saying I'm the realest But I've been around some realness Some guys hate my bars cause they can't relate to the real shit They don't know about bare knuckle fist fights Knocking out guys on a quick hype Trying to make a little P, pan full of drugs and a flick knife Yeah I'm quite pretty but ask about Cooks in the hood You'll be told he's a sick guy [Verse 4: Tempa T] Pricks like you just get a beating Nike Air Dunks, I'm there stamping You can't move or stand up, I'm beating Get left on the floor, you're wheezing My boys round the corner, creeping Cock back and hear man, blasting Headshots are raining, bleeding You can’t move or stand up, you’re screaming And I won’t be stopped be that you’re teasing Draw for the mash, man’ll start breezing Ducking out fast, they’re not screaming Went into the woods start the skeezing When he sees me — not bleeding My four five, pop that, chest squeezing Your [?] your easing Lacking for the key cause I'm not starting Dash you in the back of the flats Grips, bang him He's on the floor No movement, he's on the floor