Bugzy Malone
Pepper Riddim
[Intro]
Hold tight Rapid on production
Certi
Man like
Yeah

[Verse]
Okay so this guy thinks he's bad cause he went jail and he's got something to prove
Going to jail don't make you bad, you claff, it means you got caught on a move
I got so many MCs trying to diss me, I don't know what to do
Fuck that, grab the pen, clap it like leng
Bugzy I'm starting with you like, go on then
Turn into the devil, man
I grew up on Skeppy, not Devilman
But wait there, where's Devilman?
Get the picture, hold the scripture
Think next time, don't diss the kid
The evil ting you can miss me with
I'll dip your mixtape in holy water
Take it out and then frisbee it
Prick, straight like that, n***a
Bad with a pen, I'm that n***a
Take a peep up in Tinie's arse
You might find Cameo and Saskilla
Why you bredding man that don't bring you?
You wanna mind what you get yourself into
About "Oopsy Daisy", ya dun know
Give me the microphone, I'll still spin you
I can't stop now that I've started
Call my name out, hold a blasting
I still cut through slim and classy
None of my tings want Big ol' Narstie, idiot
Don't chat what you don't know, B
No neck, looking all obese
Chatting shit, about my fans are yours
Shut up, go fry in your own grease
And that's four man down in 32
Any other opportunist can join the queue
See, I know these man know my bars,
You had to reach for me so I could hear of you
About fuck having As and Bs or something
Man sound like they can't read or something
That's why you're stuck on this road ting
Cuh in music you ain't achieving nothing
Don't tell me nothing about grime like it started in your city
Diss me and that's your pity
I get Ps for a walk through in your city, oh Chippy
Bare little pricks on a cactus one,
This bar here is a casket one
I made more from pop than you do from a box
And your chick still wines to my bashment ones
On a Raskit one
Don't know what they told you but I'm not a mook
Don't know what they told you but I ain't shook,
Don't know what they told you but you ain't good
Any halfway crook
You're a goon? So what
I'm no goon, so what?
You shot a box, so what?
Designer clothes, so what?
You're so lost, that shit don't make you hot
Most my n***as all sell drugs
I've got family in jail too
But none of my n***as do fuckries
To blab about it on YouTube
And I'm still the voice of the people, bro
And you ain't got five songs people know
Try and knock my hustle, I'll be knocking yours
Still lethal with it, you should leave it, yo,
BecauseI know you man just might run out of bars
Chip can't run out of bars
I know you man just might run out of bars
Chip can't run out of bars
I know you man just might run out of bars
Chip can't run out of bars
I know you man just might run out of bars
Chip can't run out of bars
[Outro]
Yeah, you get me?
Oi, trust me
I can take opinions, I just don't like lies
Big Narstie
DTI was never ever the first grime tune ever made
It might've been the first grime tune made on the label you was on
But don't tell lies in the situation to make it benefit you
That's dead
That's a fry in your own grease ting, trust me
And everyone can MC
I don't mind
I can too
But trust me, no one's making an example out of me
Believe