Wiley
Raise Your Glass
[Chorus]
My brother, my brother, this ting can't die
Let's have a toast to grime, raise your glasses high
My brother, my brother, this ting can't die
Let's have a toast to grime, raise your glasses high
My brother, my brother, this ting can't die
Let's have a toast to grime, raise your glasses high
My brother this ting can't di-i-i-i-i-i-ie
Let's have a toast to grime, raise your glasses hi-i-i-i-i-i-igh

[Verse 1]
Yo, they ain't got no style
Everybody's full of shit for the millionth time
When I done G1 they was doing it then
Like some of them ain't got a clue with this pen
Or without the pen I'll still spray your whole head off
That's my legacy you want brother, get off
Function like a machine the way I let off
Listen to the radio, lots are gonna set off
Shot these products, I shot for my wage
Free spirit, I done a lot for my age
Had wars in the ring but not in my cage
Done a bit for the scene but not on my stage
When you write a bar you're talking to yourself
When I write bars I speak to the whole place
Of people who have been 'ere, every day I'm in 'ere
I win 'ere, sin 'ere, gyaldem grin 'ere