Fiascoo
Grime-a-Side 2017 Quarter Final: Glasgow vs. Manchester
First Half

[Verse 1: Chrissy Grimez]
Wanty diss Scotland? Calm it
Big Alex Ferguson came down Manny and ran it
When I see ginger, I tan it
Burst Gang? More like one can dan it
Better rebrand it, Fiascoo's a washed up Bugzy Malone
Bugzy's retarded clone
And I think that man's shit so I can't understand it
Taxi for Manny, send a Manny man home
Taxi for Manny, send- wayward
Have 'em wishin' that we sorted out a safe word
Think we give a fuck if your team's the favoured?
Scottish bars comin' Irn Bru flavoured
Shell, shell, leave a tracksuit tailored
Tapered, takin' off a head, turn a hoodie into blazer
What ye goiny dae, sir? Waster
Heard it all before, any old copy and paster

[Verse 2: XP]
You see it?
Murk my team? Nah, man ah can't see it
My ting, see, your girl tryna pree it
"Pina Colada", CKP it
Can't see man like cars with tints
I murked one of you, ain't looked back since
Do it at Red Bull, do it at Rinse
Fuck with the team and you're dead like Prince
Cuh Manny man let skengs go
Glasgow tramps better go and make techno
Didn't know man but he runs your ends though
I tell man press your ting with renzo
You came Mode FM on a plane
Now you ain't got ten pence to your name
Trainspotting, man should've went on a train
All you man smoke pebs in the rain, wankers
[Verse 3: Ransom FA]
Right, 0161 should of brought Bugzy
That's why this clash will end unlucky
See them joking away but you shouldn't get comfy
I'm Ransom, I rep for my country
Windows 10, you're just XP
You ain't got enough experience, XP
And you look like the local junkie, Steve
You're only known 'cause of President T
Can't be better than me, don't offend me
Should of been left back in Man's City like Mendy
You can come united
But my arsenal is more than deadly
Wait, in all fairness
Fiascoo, you're sound, but stick to raising awareness
Watch how real MCs tear this
Northern boys, we nae fearing

[Verse 4: RagoLoco]
Oh, what a load of rubbish
You sound like you're speaking Spanish
Fuck off with jollof and haggis
You're leaving the whole of Scotland embarrassed
Reverse the hearse, horse and carriage
No shit, SherlocK, I do damage
You're dead like your dinners
I call you ghillies pork and cabbage
You fried Mars Bars, quit writing bars
'Cause when you spit, man need subtitles
Next, onto the semi-finals
Ain't no way that you can murk us
You're going out like Scotland in the World Cup
That is fucking rapid
I'm taking the piss out of you wee laddies
[Verse 5: SherlocK]
Manny man wish death upon me
So I write bars, fam, no, I don't sleep
Hit 'em with the Haymaker, I'm the playmaker
So the haymaker makes ye go to sleep
Nah, I ain't taking no cheek
Not unless I swing with the knife
Leave Fiascoo hanging off strings for his life
Fuck Ragz, cannae ask him for advice
'Cause he's dead now, fuck your dead sound
I'm in the room, so bow with your head down
'Cause it's GLA winning shit, easy days
Bodybag 'Chester and onto the next town
I'mma bully these chumps, man a swear down
Any rep you've built yourself will get teared down
Think you're big? You're a scared clown
Open up doors, show them Scotland can shell now

[Verse 6: Fiascoo]
Manchester man
Known for banging rounds in the street
Glasgow man
Known for banging cows and the sheep
Your teeth resemble a rainbow
You've been smoking rocks at the beach
You look like you swallowed a hoover
And it sucked in both of your cheeks
On Insta, I gave you a follow
I looked, it made me unfollow
'Cause you steal, jack, move pedal bikes
And act like you just won the lotto
I was writing bars last night
But I only writ four lines
Chrissy, your girlfriend, she told me to stop
'Cause she wanted to sniff four lines
Second Half

[Verse 7: Chrissy Grimez]
Ragz can't get bitches
Unless that's cash-in-hand bitches
Rotten flaps, leavin' a rash bitches
How can he jump in a clash?
All he can do is wonder why his sack itches
Send for the cream and the bandages
Cause I'm lookin' at 'em funny when they passin' the mic
Do ye know what I do when I'm handed this?
Stand back, don't want gingeritis
Pass that down? It's a sin to my kids
Sin to my iris, wakin' up everyday
With a pain in ma eye, conjunctivitis
Move to yer bird like "show me your dids"
Ragin', the ginger might fizz
Asked to change the beat three times
So I'm wonderin' if it's even grime this Manny team dis

[Verse 8: XP]
Deep MC anywhere man touch
DJ dropped me, I came in nice
You was getting slapped up by your old man
I was all murking raves with Hypes
Your girl wears kilts and plays them types
Didn't you know she's blazing whites?
You bun spice with wasteman guys
Sideman, sideman, blatant lies
Yo, big man ting
Come outside, it's a wigback ting
Suck your mum, yeah, I spin that ting
I sold her clingwrap, clingwrap, cling
25 shots for Chriss and Ransom
You likkle virgin, Richard Branson
Your girl does brown and thinks I'm handsome
These man are all just pricks, I'll slap them, baz

[Verse 9: Ransom FA]
Watch me go from Ragz to riches
The rise is imminent; they have to witness
Going on sick, doing damage with it
Raising the bar, you're average with it
And why do you sound so unrehearsed?
Manchester has had a lot to suffer
And you lot are making it even worse
Right now, this shit's so peak, it hurts
I come through, I show no remorse
Switch it up, go RagoLoco
Wait, who the hell is RagoLoco?
Nobody knows RagoLoco
So I went online and I looked man up
You'll be surprised by the things that I caught
I seen a grown man spit a whole sixteen
About scrotum nuts, I'm not making it up

[Verse 10: RagoLoco]
Hi-ho, hi-ho
Onto the finals we go
So, I guess we'll see you man later
You should've come with a translator
Chrissy looks like a transgender
Bitch boy, wanna be a gang member?
You could never make or be a banger
You sound like you've got a stammer
Siri don't even understand ya
Sound like you've got Mike Tyson's lisp
You sound like you're biting your lips
Ransom, one black man in Scotland
His Sunday roast is pie and chips
Looks black but he's white as Chriss
Gyal ask for wine, he thinks of sip
You bounty

[Verse 11: SherlocK]
You don't want it with the Glasgow, Fiascoo
Pack up your bags, you've been kicked out the clash, so
Go easy, don't fight it
Bars hit hard like I'm swinging with an ice pick
Ragz' bird thinks I've got a nice dick
Pulled it out and the bitch tried to bite it
So I slapped her in the face with a rod that was quite stiff
And she actually liked it
Rewind this, I go hard, mate
It's day one, young lock had bars from
I've done gang fights, done had car chase
Turned up and I just spun some marks, mate
I be the hitman, styles got 'em shook, mate
You're plain shit and that's you on a good day
Levelled up now, bro, no rookie
Penned these while I smoked Girl Scout cookies

[Verse 12: Fiascoo]
Chrissy
What is it you actually eat at home?
If you put on a couple of stone
You'd still weigh a couple of stone
Ransom, I don't know why you
Call yourself an MC or a rapper
You're macca, you look like J Hus
But just a little bit blacker
I'd never come on Red Bull
Knowing my girlfriend's a slapper
But yours, she looks like Tony Montana
Just a little bit fatter
And Chrissy, your Mrs
She has got a beautiful arse and tits
When she hopped out the whip
I couldn't help but notice that she walks like this