[BL@CKBOX Part 1]

[Intro]

Yo, it's Songer

Big up BL@CKBOX, big up Reading

Outside the box, yo

[Verse]

You are not on the same level as I

These bars will make your adrenaline rise

And when I'm inside

I've got bad boys showing their feminine side

They're jealous of my potential, to make the world shake like ketamine highs

And if man's salty, I'll pepper him twice

If talent comes down to melanin, why

Am I so much harder than you?

Picking up green like a gardener do

Stardawg I do, I put half of the Q

In some fat L plate and start sparking a zoot

And now I'm in venting mode

I'm inventing most of the flows you know

When the clothes you own I've already worn

The futures here, I'm already born

My BL@CKBOX is attracting fans

Don't rate good yutes acting bad

Mans got bars, so I chat them facts

Till I wrap them grands in elastic bands

You hold food like plastic bags

Because you love dizz like Raskit fans

My team are ready to start, you can see me shaking the captain's hand

Mans pulling up in a blacked out Audi

Acting rowdy, badmen round me

There's a party at my ex's yard

But the slag don't shout me

Man don't doubt me

Man chat shit so I slapped him loudly

Smacked him proudly

Man's too cold, get a chapped lip round me

Man get racks in now, G

If I asked you name a youte that's harder

Man bet a tenner that you don't answer

Never seen that youte at the after

My mans fucked off a zoot and lager

Wasteman!

Can't hack a zoot and a Stella

Swing man round like a human propeller

And if his girlfriends cute, I'll tell her

'Cause she ain't going home with you

I spit bars, I'm chosen to

Gonna make that last like frozen food

Be the best in the world, I'm hoping to

It's overdue, bare heads turn when I'm rolling through

Still cold in June

Got bare notes, can't fold in two

Don't chat shit, you're poking who?

Why you lying for?

I stand out if I'm indoors

If you diss my marge, get flying jaws

Just wanna bring guys on tours

Man's angry now

You'll get dropped like hand me downs

Nobody got better bars than Songer

Two years time, mans in town

Mans pulling up in an all-white Rari'

All night party; call man Barbi'

Spit bars like Dave, kickball like Vardy

Mans cray kray, call that Tom Hardy

Can't out bar me

Man get bumped, no white on khaki

Got no filter, call man Marley

White and strong, call man Charlie

It's S-O-N-G-E-to-the-R

Got the best flow, man bring heat with the bars

Girls leave mine at six in the morning

But swear down no sleep in the yard

Always rolling zoots and biftas

No guns, I use my fingers

I am outside the box

Like David Luiz when he shoots from distance

Hop on the track and boss the tune

Since part one had lots to do

Yeah new creps mans copped a few

When I see red lights, no prostitutes

Hop on the track and boss the tune

Since part one had lots to do

Yeah new creps, mans copped a few

And I seen red lights

Since day one man I kept it thermal

Link your girl dressed in purple

She said be there or be square

And let's just say that I kept it circle

Steal your girl then beat her best friend

Bars 'bout FIFA, the girls don't get them

Check them, name a circle like our one

And I will finesse them

Lyrics and bars no one can boy me

Man like cows, them pats come noisy

Catch man 'lighting it up with

Franklin, Luckman, Luke and Boycie'

Catch me with the whole of the team

Colder than me? Don't know what you mean

No lower degrees, I'm frozen it seems

You are not bad with snow in your jeans

No, you ain't all that

Leave your face all flat with a baseball bat

Shot draws, ain't on that

But I see more food than a table mat

So go back watch part one

As your girl pops up when that's watched

Don't argue whether that's hot, that's part one or part two of the BL@CKBOX

[Outro]

Ya dun-know

Jheeze

[Songer BL@CKBOX Part 2]

[Intro]

Yo, outside the box, listen

[Verse 2]

I'm jumping on this track 'bout to chat a load of grease

Smacking loads of G's whenever they're chatting loads of breeze

Claim they're doing road and claim they're backing loads of beef

But they're sat at yard, whilst I'm stacking loads'a P's

If you don't rate what I'm doing, couldn't give one fuck

Your girl wishes you was me but that's just tough luck

And now she's staring at me, bruv it's like she's lovestruck

I'm getting straight red cards because the studs up

Songer, why you been gone?

Need that new sick song

Eyes are always flipping red, think they had two ticks on

Roll up with new kicks on

Holds on, where's your bitch gone?

Calls my dick a BMX 'cause that's what she do tricks on

Claims he's got a Merc but still bitch I run past him

Don't know why he's talking to me, dickhead, stop asking

Said my bars are funny, but, bitch, I'm not laughing

Boogie when I bust because I strictly come dancing

Big man, you're jarring

Link up then spar him

Gun fingers loaded just skank out then blast him

Dank out that bathroom

Strap that then spark it

Hennessy, vodka, drank mat, man's clarted

Hard flows whether the bars are new or whether the bars old

Bars cold better than me, nah you're in the past, bro

Bottlin' a Scottish guy: should've seen that Glasgow

Hit him in the Edin-bruv, I nearly made his heart blow

Nearly made his heart burst

Lyricism's artwork

Claim to be a rapper but you've never spat a hard verse

Writin' 'til my palm hurts, stay until her arse twerks

Spitting as he's whippin', man, I made that car swerve

And when I'm on the beat all you see is riot smoke

Watching what you eat but sniffing bugel; diet coke

I suppose it's fire every time that I compose 'cause I can see the future, present, past when my eyes are closed

Seventeen, I'm very lean

I'll be the best you've ever seen

But you've just gotta give me time like when the lemon's green

I'm outside the box but he's a flippin' penalty

Beat your girl tomorrow just to freshen up my memory

Seven shots of Hennessy

Daily 'til I'm seventy

Mix it with that Coca-Cola, that's the flippin' recipe

But all I see is jealousy because I'm the guy they'll never be

Going to my gravestone, bunnin' as they bury me

Yeah, that good yute with that rude manner

Purple creps, yeah, you know I got that new swagger

Give a girl my lightsaber 'til she sounds like Chewbacca

Go in there with Annabelle, cip in yard with Susanna

Dip in yard with Susy

She was peng but all her friends were dead, I called her Uzi

She's calling me a cutie

I'm playing Call of Duty with one hand up on the booty

Boy's can multi-task: one-handed as I shoot, G

Lyrics for lyrics, man I would step on any

Telling me I'm old school but trust me I ain't secondary

And if you're chatting shit, trust me, you'll be dead and buried

They're claiming that they're icy but they're Ben and Jerry

I make words put it in a great verse

Now she's on her knees but I'm telling her this ain't church

Telling her to leave

'Cause I promise that this game hurts

I'm in love with brain and she's in love with how my brain works

[Bridge]

Yeah, it's Songer, outside the box

Keep the beat going, I'm going back in

Yeah, listen, yo

[Verse 3]

Sick rapper, big stacker

Lip smacker, kick backer

Why you sleeping on the boy? You a kidnapper

Bitch badder, wink at her

Shit madder, I been badder

The way I roll in stoned, you'd think I'm Mick Jagger

It's in Gods hands, they call me Maradona

I'm in my zone, don't disturb me when I'm getting gualler

My old girl is so upset I never wifed her but it's ironic because now she always misses Songer

[Outro]

Bang, BL@CKBOX: Part Two

Big up Bl@ckbox every time

Ya dun-know, big up Reading

Ya dun-know