(Verse: Kerr)
On my grown man, never be caught in a snapback
OBEY no hat or backpack
You caricatures get laughed at
Enter the programme, breakup the landscape
I don’t mean nothing but hassle
I’m a rascal, I am Glasgow
Oppression is something, I’m used to
Violence, drugs and abuse too
Crime is something I could do
I know a good few, who might come through
Of course there’s evil in people
When the hand their dealt ain’t equal
This money is causing us grief mate
Cause life don’t work for a cheap skate
We’re on, live in effect
A thousand shows, delivered directly
In faces of those, who often oppose
Or maybe just don’t respect me
But believe, you can’t deny it
These kids are causing a riot
Like London, or Luton
No unlawful methods or shooting though
Salute, I’m building it up, just piecing the puzzle, with nothing but hustle and skill
Burning the candle at both ends
In this industry full of my fake friends


I live in a bubble, I need cleansed
We live in a bubble, that depends on
Hashtags, new trends
Facebook with like two real friends
Thousand people I don’t know
And there’s 15 others I don’t like
And they follow me cause they want to see, me fall on my face and blow it
But its plain to see, this ain’t hard for me, I’m not arrogant, I just know it
We’re based up north, went down south
And this shit plays in the States
This is hip-hop, and I make that
For more than just my mates
They’re listening now
Got them up on their feet
I hope that slipped through
Like pennies up under the seat
But while you search for change
We’re actually making it happen
Ten thousand hours of rapping
Broke out the box we were classed and trapped in
Been at the most, pretentious parties
Ever imagined on earth son
Like to run up in there with an air gun
For some rare fun, and just pick one
Off, and on like a break light
These suits are giving me stage fright
Follow me round like a shadow
Like some washed up Gary Barlow

Sitting with mountains of cocaine
While he’s blowing my brain like I’m Cobain
Pulling his phone out, and showing me pics
Of him and his burd, or her and her tits
Her in her dress, and more of her breasts
Send me that mate, if you wana impress?
You won’t, none of that shits cool
Stop signing these fuckers from Brit School
I’d rather bow out, with no deal
Than be first in line for a free meal
Slow Elvis