Fire in the Booth

Whether you're in HMV or KFC, HMP or A&E I make them see a-n-d. let you know the c-a-s-e From LDN not NYC, on the m-i-c I'm M.I.B., Like BIG the MVP, VIP to the e-n-d E.g., my CD, is way to d-e-e-p That goes for your TV screen, DVD or BBC ITN or ITV, C-O-Ps say "ID please" S-t-o-p like IC3, wanna see me hooked to an IV, g In the ICU but Im n-o-t, they went OT with the m-o-b Can't see me through the f-o-g Don't cuss mothers of S.O.B's These MC's are OAPs Wanna hype up I'm like "okay, g." You think you're b-a-d Get a p-e-n and a p-a-d If the CIA and the FBI, the MI6 and the MI5 Jump on the A3 then I drive, turn up the A/C, FYI MJ like P.Y.T,, lol I never T.Y.P I e-a-t on E.I.D, twist the C.I.D like Levi Jeans D-i-e like BNP; EDL just BFG's. Youths don't want no GCSE's they want C.O.D. on the PS3 I'm like DP, or PE, or KRS from BDP Download this on your MP3 Send it to your MP & MTV You're not on this thing like A.D.D Your CD I rate PG Like KKK's with AK's My A.K.A is AA Take you off the road ASAP DDT these JLS MC's What you just saw basically Is how to murder the ABC's Cause I'm back in the booth Rappers wanna chat about the strap they got stashed in the back of their boot But I chat to the youths Abstract or backpack my attributes and stack to the roof I capture the truth Pour it on tracks with my views, and I'll sell it out the back of the boot I'm positive you're negative, you're whack and confused I'm back and the fact is your dad's in the room Ain't a track that you rappers can battle with Every track that I spat is immaculate Any track that I smash, I'm attacking it Heard you rap fam, your tracks are inadequate Your CD was kak, it was crap, I'm dashing it You follow fashion with rap, I'm passionate Blood start splashing you, whip you're dashing it Said you were packing a mac in the back of it Kizzy, I'm busy, I'm really a brilliant guy It's gritty and shitty but really the city is mine If you dis me, pity the silly billy to try From bricky to Piccadilly to Mississippi I'm live Getting rid of you Milli Vanilli's, gimme the vibe Get jiggy like Willy spitting the wittiest rhymes Uncivilised, ignorant, diligent type And I victimize an idiot a million times Hey hey, we ray rays and sway flames Take snakes of the road like AA So waste brays, vacate, and make space You bait fakes ain't straight, you stay fake We chase papes, you chase days like day way On a late day you date fakes and save face In the same place, we maintain and ain't changed We make tapes that rape pace like Keslane Don't diss this or miss this we live this from Lisbon to Ipswich For instance the dick's got your sister addicted Oh look, big tits came for a quick fix You're limper than Bizkit you nitwits A monster, a beast, when I stomp on the beat If the nonsense you speak is not gonna cease Unconscious belief, some conscious MCs Don't respond to the beef if your nonsense is meep Get ill up on the rhythm when I kill 'em on a lyrical Finish up my dinner then I drill 'em with a syllable Don't really care what you did and what you didn't do Little fools are minuscule, spitting isn't difficult You find your mind cause I'm out of mine Fuck a pound sign, came for the crown of grime I told you once, I told you a thousand times I'm a fountain of acid, you're alkaline You alcoholics are out of line Got a mountain to climb if your mouth is lying Bow to his highness, I'm bound to shine Let me coach you on vocals and how to rhyme Think I'm vexed with your in-directs If I spit rhymes next I will slit five necks I'm a big time threat, to your piss sly vects This guy lives life inside stress I'm the best in the game, not impressed with the fame I'm testing my aim if I send for your name The successful are lame, they kept it the same But whatever the weather, it's destined to change Couldn't give a fuck for your creps and your chains You slobber on the mic like a sket giving brain I'm mental, deranged, crush temples and frames My pencil will end you like perpetual flames Burn like syphilis, you nerds are privileged When I die you can say that you heard the sickest spit My verse it limitless, the earth is spinning quick Pure words of wickedness that I merk the rhythm with Heard you were good, It's a shame that you're not Don't care about your chain or the fame that you got Keep my name on your brain cause I came for your spot What you're making is pot, they say it's a lot You're whack bro with your kak flow But you're whack though put ya cap low Prat go back home This monster is stronger than Castro's backbone I attack those little Fapo Caso's Don't ever get arrogant Don't start panicking, phone your management Mumbling, mannering that man are getting mad again Don't care about your swagger, mandem, or medallion What's the matter then, magger where's your magnum? When there's beef, mandem are missing like Madeleine I've been badder than you and your bag of men What's happening when I kill 'em with a pad and pen Ain't got the bars in your pad to match me Me I'm so fast, you should catch a taxi Have you got the picture like Paparazzi? You lack the facts that go back-to-back, b When I watch you rappers, It's like crazy comedy I got a 'don't rate this fake g' policy Fuck ya rewards, I don't rate these nominees Just little fickle Jay-Z wannabes You hobos are old and It's oh so true No promo, logo, or photo-shoot Fuck your postcode, mobile, and polo suit My opponents are hoping I won't go true I'm certainly burning these burglars verbally Merking these merkers 'til mercenaries murder me Burstin' and turnin' your burberry burgundy Guernsey to Germany, Jersey to Bermondsey True rhymes, ain't got a pen? You can use mine Ain't stayin' underground like a tube line I'mma come through and shine, in due time Which one of you pricks said I can't do grime? Jungle crosser, nonsense stopper Continent stomper, the conscious monster The freedom fighter, deepest writer Beat up cyphers, the peoples' rhymer I'm bond to get iller, the sound effects killer The Malcolm X spitter, the alphabet killer Not a player hater, lady dater Maybe later a baby maker I get slept on like old pajamas Will I blow up like boats in the harbor? You spit fire, I'm molten lava Flow so cold I scold Jafada Sold your soul for gold and Prada Who do you know who's flow goes harder? It's over partner, you know the answer Drop bombs on the rhythm, no Obama Baseline murderer, fake guy hurter, race line herder Face flying all over the place like furniture I'm back so hard might break my vertebrate Beat breaker, heat taker, sheet of paper cremater, since a teenager DJs can't be BKRs cause if they do they'll get PAR'd I'm back so let me see, the facts are very deep You prats will never see, I rap to any beat Pack the pen and plea, practice every week Attack the melody, and smash my enemies Not a cenbro, But you're getting dough With a bent flow jacking off Jay-Z like a little klepto And the tempo went slow Done a lot in my lifetime, I was retro Everybody bow to the kind cause he's back Whether or not radio was in his track Forget Nas and his dad, I'm bridging the gap You think it's just rap, but it's bigger than that If it's tit for tat, I got the gift of the gat What you spit is just shit, blood, stick to the facts You itch like a cat that's addicted to crack I'm sick of you Prats, cause you shitheads is whack I'm a g, any beat, I will damage Very deep, whether it be grime or garage Enemies better flee, I won't have it You'll never be ahead of me you blind old maggot If you really really live crime, don't chat it If you really really got a 9, go grab it Then, if you're live, don't hide, don't panic Just ride like a psycho that might go manic Don't settle with the rest, cause I'm better than the best Not just clever, yes I'm intelligent and best you Better invest in some weapons and a vest You veterans are vexed, irrelevant and stressed Keep telling us your rep, but you never get respect You fed up cause seven of your regiments are messed You could get a bit of press for that ice on your neck It's not credit, it's a debt I'm here for the beat, just save all the nonsense Murk it whether a rave or a concert When I'm on stage, make way for the monster Key to the Game: I came, toured, and conquered Spit on your bars, I spray more for longer You spit boring, chainsaw's are stronger You're a boxer, wait, you're a mobster Ain't got time for fake Ford impostors I'm a champ, deep MC and it's blatant But tramps wanna sleep on me like a pavement When I speak, I leave them chiefs in amazement Meanest genius, I'm free like a mason But I don't sleep with police at the station I'm writing my rhymes, you're completing your statement Running from the swine while you're eating your bacon Don't rip beats, I beat them and break 'em Most MCs don't believe them or rate 'em It's no secret, these nincs are just hating Keep on saying that my team is inflaming Light fire like them trees that you're blazing Double P, trouble we, there'll be an invasion Test us? Get left deep in the basement Don't care whether you're from Ealing or Leyton Middle Eastern or Asian... Little man never did exams Got a particular bigger plan flippin' grams 'Til a bigger man in his gang gave him a stick to bang Or maybe just hold cause no one thought he would kill a man 'Till he caught a silly billy villain, chillin' in a jam Sippin' champs, spliff in his hand, trigger ready to jam... Bang bang biddy bang biddy biddy bang Now he's in a camp thinkin' "Damn, what a pity fam." Rappers are yapping and flapping their lips 'Bout how they're packing and clapping their sticks Has to be big, the impact it has on the kids Tell me where the factory is When the government kill, they're just stacking their chips You wonder why the youths are strapped and they're pissed If not a nine, it's a knife getting jabbed in your ribs People die for the petrol, the gas in the whip In London, you can get shanked in the heart Still the government put more tanks in Iraq Ignorant little spitters are talking greasy Cause they bitten bitties that they saw on TV If all you rap about is the hoes and the dough It's already too late, you sold 'em your soul You jokers act like you know but you don't Cause there's little kids dying all over the globe Many say they know what revolution could be But many don't know what revolution would mean It would mean blood, it would mean pain But it could be us to bring that change Little hypocrites are spittin' typical nonsense I'm a black bull because of political content Laugh at my people while you criminals bomb them Militant on the rhythm, I'm killing you on the song then History you won't read in a textbook Kunta Kinte, I bleed from my left foot Never see me on the TV with Jedwards Tell the BBC they need me on Westwood