Wiley - Grew Up In - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

03.11.2014

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Tekst piosenki
[Verse 1: Wiley] Yeah, I grew up in Bow E-thrizzy Home of Maniac, home of Tinchy, home of Dizzee If you don't get it then you're gonna be without That's why I fly around and make myself busy Complacent shotta gets robbed for a belly This shit's going on, but I don't mean telly When the rain falls, you can't be saved by wellies A kid walks in, starts waving a semi Badman, he ain't afraid of any Expensive watch, now why have I got it? Furthermore, fuck that, I'mma shot it You know why, blood? Cause I don't want it Go and look a next property, swap it I deal with change in a pattern Too many girls buy jewellery in Hatton New generation's here, what you saying? We're gonna see when I pass you the baton [Verse 2: Stormzy] I grew up in south west London, home of the brave Home to the roadside Gs, So Solid UK Be loud and clear when you're calling my name Shut down the club, live show then I cut, I'm the lord of the rave From a place where your big bad brother can't save you Where the olders are washed and the young Gs out on the blocky want grief Get out of my seat, what the fuck did you bring to the table? From a place where they think that you're rich if you ever get signed to a label Last night, I fell asleep with the engine running Kick down your door, then my bredrin's running I don't like that yout, I don't care who's bunning I don't know that yout, don't care about your cousin Got a photoshoot, whole ends is coming, rudeboy, you ain't got enough class Your boy's on form this year, fall back, you ain't got enough bars 20 man deep on a night out, buy out the bar, you ain't got enough staff Told man don't even talk too much, but you talk too much, all you niggas just bark [Verse 3: Solo 45] Yo, Broadwater Farm shooters, I'm one of them I lost my dollar if you ever try one of us Ain't shot a nigga in ages still Someone try it, I need some practice Signed to Island, now I've gotta ‘llow it Ten man [?] cool, I've got it I'm a free spirit, bore with no limit On my young Wiley with it I like money, I love money Man, fuck your three girls, get your wallet out I spend your last month's wages cabbing about I'll sleep on a plane, too much money about [?] minor, I'm up and I'm out Money, bruv, it's money Super Sega Level 9000, nigga Have a drink and will man 'llow me, nigga? Rudeboy I fucking love these groupies, nigga But I love the money more, you feel me nigga? Super Sega Level 9000, nigga Have a drink and will man 'llow me, nigga? Rudeboy I fucking love these groupies, nigga But I love the money more, you feel me nigga?
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