Track 13 from mercury award winning Boy in Da Corner (2003). A typical pick from the LP, solid depictions of teenage struggle in inner city London; and dizzees attempts to ultimately win.[Intro]

(Who's that, who's that, who's that?)

The dopest, flyest, OG, pimp hustler, gangster player, hardcore motherfucker living today

To be honest, I’m totally and completely on his dick

And you know this, man!

It’s the return of Dizzee Rascal

Dem boy not ready yet, trend they can never set

Inside outside, inside outside

Stop dat, start dat, get dat

Yo, you know, going on Dirtee, going on stank (Yo)

[Verse 1]

Roll deep on these (Uh)

Put these MC’s on deep freeze (Freeze)

Hit these, whip these and rip these

Come like Busta, we flip these

So please don’t rap with these (Nah)

Fearless, angry, sick MC’s

Don’t like Christine’s or Britney’s

Lalas or Tinky Winkys

And this one's strictly for pickneys

Old school afro dry white knees

Barclays, Halifax, we stick these

Endless gunshots, you lick these

Trick these CIDs with ease

Touch mic, MC's jump like fleas

Player haters get chopped like trees

Come a boy rascal, to a boy miseries

[Chorus]

It seems to be cars and cash and (Uh) girls and peds

And manners on flame (Uh), better keep your eyes out for them feds

It seems to be phones and bling and raves and weed (Weed)

And pay up what you owe or else them boys will make you bleed

Seems to be DJ's and MC's and gold and Nike's

We roll deep for the money; we don’t want no technicalities

It seems to be love and war and hate and life

Harsh life, hustle life, thug life, street life

[Verse 2]

So far from clean (So far)

Play kiss chase with your aunt Maureen

Get rhymes, get heard, get seen

Dizzee run things like Idi Amin

Keep vigilant, keep on guard

We chuck grenades at Scotland Yard

Retard gets kicked hard, real hard

Leave death threats in your birthday card

Oh my days, what is he like

Dizzee.com, Dizzee.bustmic

World wide web./east end

Dizzee.com jacked your girlfriend

Co.uk, outlaw scholar

Barefoot pimp\.holla

Frank Fraser lyrical tank

Dizzee.com/going on stank

[Chorus]

It seems to be cars and cash and girls and peds

And manners on flame (Uh), better keep your eyes out for them feds (Woo)

It seems to be phones and bling and raves and weed (Weed)

And pay up what you owe or else them boys will make you bleed

Seems to be DJ's and MC's and gold and Nike's

We roll deep for the money; we don’t want no technicalities

It seems to be love and war and hate and life

Harsh life, hustle life, thug life (Yo), street life (Listen up, yo)

[Verse 3]

Ding dong, it's on

Fake MC's want to sing my song (Song)

You want to test? Hurry up, bring it on

Wanna take me for a mong? Nah, that’s wrong

Hit them with a Jeet-Kun-Do akido blow

Leave bullet holes in your Moschino clothes

Hot like weather, we grow, carry condoms for the hoes

Back, front, inside, out

Dizzee got the flow to make a boy wile out

Six foot deep you can never climb out

I smoke dat weed til my mum finds out

Front, back, outside, in

Barefoot kids sipping on jing-sing

Love making? Nah, doggystyling

In a dark park on a dark evening

[Chorus]

It seems to be cars and cash and girls and peds

And manners on flame (Uh), better keep your eyes out for them feds

It seems to be phones and bling and raves and weed (Weed)

And pay up what you owe or else them boys will make you bleed

Seems to be DJ's and MC's and gold and Nike's

We roll deep for the money; we don’t want no technicalities

It seems to be love and war and hate and life

Harsh life, hustle life, thug life, street life