[Verse 1: Akala]

Yo, Fire in the Booth Cypher, listen

Uh, Akala

Forget about walkin' in 'em

You couldn't put my shoes on

You ain't smart enough for me to wanna hear your views on

Freestyle, written or a new song

If I wanted bullshit, woulda just turned the news on

Man are fake as Jamaica's independence

I spit one sentence, put the Devil in repentance

'Cause the flow's that vicious

Snitches, dumber than white people tryna call themselves niggas

Pigs kill our kids, you ain't seen

Love hip hop, don't know what hip hop means

Are you lean? Are you lean?

From the green, from the green

Never been signed but I've been the best in the scene

From when there was a platform, Fire in the Booth

For rappers to be judged how they actually rap

Who came top of the pack, it's a fact

I didn't have to pretend that I do sell crack

We all got dawgs that'll bust their strap

But I'm so old school, so down for a scrap

Your favourite rapper could get the Muay Thai elbow

Straight in his head top, sure you could tell though

I'm off 'round the world to lecture

A bag of universities, what did he say?

And I never finished college, let alone uni

I'm living proof that intelligence pays

That is not a metaphor, I meant that literally

My itinerary, swing by Italy

So we can all floss, we can all boss

Who runs companies, who does not?

Never sold my soul, but we all got flows

And we all got shows, and we all got...

Matter of fact, we ain't all got flows

If they said you could rap, that was too much crow

Well I got more rhymes than the Chinese got dollars

You won't get that line 'cause you're not scholars

So which MC could touch mine?

Who done off the EDL guy with one line?

Look, bruv, we are not niggas

Like I did, you need a minute to go figure

So the meantime, I will deliver a little vigour

From the tongue trigger that will still a dum-dum spitter

[?]

And then you realise your country's run by many similar

You're little mimickers, my miniatures

You might score but you got no skill, Lineker

Sure I'll finish ya, vivider than a cinema

The way I paint a picture with words, it should be criminal

Who told you it's hard, it isn't, it's easy

As bullshittin' to politicians

I'm a man on a mission, with a plan and a vision

I'd be damned if I didn't, so I abandon resistance

H•A•M with the lyrics and I standardly kill it

Leave it lookin' like tryna get a tan when you're British

Told 'em all

All these little MCs, who do you think helped mould them all?

Now everybody want to be independent

10 years ago, didn't I show them all?

[Verse 2: Bella Gotti (No-Lay)]

Niggas looking at me like I snatched their bladder

'Cause 24-7 I be takin' the piss

If the watch don't come off then I'm takin' your wrist

Put the white on scales like it snowed on a fish

Bitch, do you not know who it is?

Isabella Gotti, but you can call me miss

Big hips so I can't find jeans that I fit

You don't like my shit, go and sit on the stick

Money, money, money, money, money

That's all I wanna talk about

Money, money, money

I blew the safe, then I hopped in

And my eyes went a different colour like Hopsin

My punchlines like cocaine boxing

I got so many bars around me like I'm locked in

You niggas wish you were time travellers

So you can go back and murder me before I realised

I could kill a million guys, that got a million rhymes, with one fuckin' line

Money in my rucksack, money on my spine

Mummy I'll be fine, I'm about this life

Only God knows why

And my dogs know I am about this rhyme

My brain evicted me, I'm out of my mind

So keep me off your tongue, and out of your mouth

I put your man on smash, he put his head down south

[Verse 3: SafOne]

Yo, Ps for the weed, bring it out

Phones off, clingers out

Mandem on it, on road flinging out

Left jab, right hook, if you wanna swing it out

Like eff your shoe box, fam, manna fill it out

Your months wage, mandem'll bring it out

Buy champagne and start spillin' out

My birthday, man coulda bought a house

But eff that I'm still in my yard sittin' down

Thinkin' how am I dawg, sittin' down?

Thinkin' how are my dawgs in the ground?

Thinkin' how is my arse still around?

But I'm outchea, still talk of the town

Raw, nah I don't water it down

And I don't wanna hear no talk about war

Cuh I'm still walkin' around

'Low that, dangers, bring it out

Mask and gloves, bring 'em out

Swear, manna been doin' this ting

So it's rare that you're gonna see a man spin it out

Never that, bit of brake, yeah down, fling it out

Look what's roundabout, skid it round

Man I'm ocean, probably bumpin' Drake's new ting

Real man, rollin' out

[Deadly]

Yo, bring 'em out, bring 'em out

Look who's fully eating dinner now

Don't chat to me 'bout iTunes

I'm like CDs man, fling em out, fling 'em out

Concerts man, fill 'em out, fill 'em out

We bring 'em out every time we been around

We lookin' over the grime scene grinnin' out

Makin' man know, listen

Yo, who said I would get left in the dark

I'm back with a vengeance like rah

Turn up to get entrance and bark

Then you will hear engines and cars

Might see you main man slumped out like rah

Dead, you're gone too far

I will push back, we go trip, then laugh

Man chat shit, hold dick from shaft

Run this ting, don't think it's talk

Deadly will wait till dark, me you and strap can link in park

Minutes to midnight, blinkin' sparks

You'll not turn up, if you're thinkin' smart

You'll be sprintin' fast

Stay blacked out like...​

Listen, there's levels

[Verse 4: Stormzy]

Man try flex, man got me movin' like Ghetts

Like d-d-dead him on sight, yeah dem man clap

They're doin' better in the trap

But we're doin' better in life, so fuck your raps

Kick off the door from the latch

Like it's easy to get up inside

Swear man, you old MCs need to leave it alone

Cuh you're not gettin' better with time

Leave it to us, go look after your kids

I'll take over from...

Yo, yo, listen

From the top, from the top

Fire in the Booth Cypher

Myself Stormzy

Everyone inside

Yo, just warming up

Check it, look

Man try flex, man got me movin' like Ghetts

Like d-d-dead him on sight, yeah dem man clap

They're doin' better in the trap

But we're doin' better in life, so fuck your raps

Kick off the door from the latch

Like it's easy to get up inside

Swear man, you old MCs need to leave it alone

Cuh you're not gettin' better with time

So leave it to us, go look after your kids

I'll take over from here

I made more movements than half of these pricks

And it didn't even take me a year

But a man try tell me to suck my mum I said

"Wait brutha, suck my who?"

Can't take big Mike for some any old prick

Don't ask why I touched that yute, but

Anyway back to the rap ish

I brought dark skin back for the black kids

Big man like you gettin' catfished

One take for the verse and the ad-libs

Yeah, I used to be on the roads

Times I would freeze in the cold just to wait at the bus stop

So next time you talk about Skepta, Giggs or Wretch, don't forget about us lot, word

Wait, nah, but I didn't really die though

This a part of the game, ideas all up in my brain like I walk with a light bulb

Man I came back with a flame

And a pendant wrapped on my chain

And a beat on my iPhone, somebody passin' the game

List of the grime scene names

Do this with a blindfold, brutha it's easy

Huh, what you gonna try tell me?

Shit, I went back to the mountains

Look, and came back lookin' healthy

Fuck, man I'm sick in my head

Nobody can't help me

The love that you get for your songs

Shit, I get that for a selfie

Lord help me

Man are outrageous, somebody stop them

Needed a favour, tell 'em I got them

Bun all the haters, I do not watch them

I am the saviour, I am the problem

What you gonna chat 'bout now?

What you brothers gonna rap 'bout now?

When you gonna stop bitin' my flow?

Why you brothers gotta cat my style?

Man I...

Oi fuck this

[Verse 5: P Money]

I've had enough of your lyrics, all of your gimmicks

Your flows sound tortured and timid

I got the game in the barrel 'cause I be aiming to kill it

Cover you quickly like what I spray is acrylic

Boom bang, both of you dazed in a minute

Lame and you mimic

You're rhymin' out of time in your lyrics

Dead or alive, I don't know, you decide when I'm finished

You rate real, this a Type R, according to Civic

So you all thought, actin' like you wanted to give it

Give me the riddem, I rip it, and tell my enemies stick it

I be playin' it smooth, and they be playin' it rigid

Ballin' out on my own, now they wanted to kick it

Showin' everybody flows, then they wishin' they bit it

Took a leap of faith, now you can tell when I ribbit

Boom, feelin' like a body shot when I rib it

They're all talking the talk, but not one of them live it

Flowin' it fast, you're about to go in a trance

Feelin' like a phone bill when I run up a charge

See I call the ambulance, got a couple man asking

[?]

Kinda class doesn't really come in a school, it comes in a car

Babe come in the car

Next minute, ahh, I made her cum in the car

Downin' that strong drink that don't come in the glass

Tell 'em it's all goin' down when I'm up in the dance

She's lovin' the bars, the beats, says she's lovin' the cars

She give me a chance, you're not even given a pass

So give it to me, 'cause never do I muck up a task

So give it to me, why? 'Cause I'm one of the stars

Give it to me, why? 'Cause I'm one of the stars

Give it to me, why? 'Cause I'm one of the stars

And when I drop my tune they be like "Mother rah"

[Ghetts]

Back to back, I'm back to that

With a hat back and a MAC in lap

This is head top

Which one of these MCs should I head top?

Forehead, red dot

Soldier, 21 gun salute

At least you got a bad boy send off

Analyse the game, see where they went wrong

So I got it covered, any angle they send from

Flows, where'd ya get them from?

Bars, where'd ya get them from?

Where the fuck's the respect gone?

I'd slap man out your sleep if I'm slept on

I'm on a level that they ain't ever stepped on

This is Ghetto, not Ghetts, dog

Speak up, where's ya chest gone

A lot of war, I'm in my heart and my chest strong

I'm on my Jack Jones, and I feel like I'm ten strong

School more MCs than St Bon's

Ay, look, look

[Verse 6: Mic Righteous]

I only deal with certain people

I only deal with certain people

I only deal with certain people, people know

People know I'm from the coast and I give my people hope

From feeling broke, but other people seem to joke

'Cause people's minds are smaller than their balls are so they need to boast

I don't think people know the suffering my people go through

I don't think you people would believe me even if I showed you

If I showed you, if I showed you even though you felt some pain

Ain't to say there ain't no one out there that ain't felt the same

But fuck certain people, we don't work with egos, every person's equal

And fuck certain people when they say they love you but they turn and leave you

And fuck 'the world is evil, every man for theirself', I wanna help the people

These fat cats wanna kill the people

Steal from people, look at what they sell to people

Same old tricks and they still deceive you

It's hell for people, but I fail to free you

But we just as fucked, what the hell can we do?

Be selfish, dude that ain't healthy

I be tryna live healthy, watch my well-being

You wanna be like the wealthy people

Those Made in Chelsea people

Let hell freeze

Oh please, no fees for selfies, no self esteem

You still self loathe, self harm, watch yourself bleed

Been there myself, no self belief

There ain't nothin' you can tell me, people

Got people I'm cool with, people I went school with

People that are bringing the tool if I call 'em

Some be in England, some be in Scotland

My peeps are my people

Check this

No eyes shut this time

Know my shit fucked and I might just light this blunt

Turn a festival to a fighting club

The best of all time, you ain't frightening us

Fat fuck, you ain't dieting much

Rap tough, you ain't writing much

Ah fuck, now look at what I've become

And I just begun, retire your mum

I give an MC ten seconds to run like ten ni- fuck

5, 4, 1, click clack clow

Sit back down, Alan Sugar ain't firing fuck

I'ma just sit there and smile while you slimy fucks eat off my plate

This ain't Come Dine With Me, blud

Rope round your feet wrapped round to a tree

Rope round your neck and it's tied to a truck, and the driver is drunk

You can hear the engine firing up

Wheels spinning quicker than a vinyl spun by Preemo

And you can see your spinal tear

Am I all there? No

So you can spare me your final prayers, bro

Fuckin' this game, stickin' my dick in its ear hole

We weirdos, we heroes but we here, ho