[Round 1 - Instrumental: Woo Riddim]

[Verse 1: Cadell]
Yo, E3's in the building
Not gonna be hype and that there's no time
Yo, listen
Stop acting like you hand out right hooks
If you're a novelist, write books
Me I make p's, how does your life look?
Might smoke trees, so take a leaf out of my book
Don't eat [?] cos I ain't from Bywood
Man better touch wood that I don't fly wood
Call me a young g, realest in my hood
Never had [?] man's hands on my good
Lies you ain't about that
My names Cadell Cowie, rowdy with rats
My man thinks he's soak and attack
But I did it how they didn't wanna do it in fact
[Reload]
[?] Snakes I don't trust them
Don't call me my man I ain't your husband
Fuck 1 for 1 I'll got 1 for 10
All 10 will get rushed and rushed more to Rushton
Stop acting like you hand out right hooks
If you're a novelist, write books
Me I make p's, how does your life look?
Might smoke trees, so take a leaf out of my book
Don't eat [?] cos I ain't from Bywood
Man better touch wood that I don't fly wood
Call me a young g, realest in my hood
Never had [?] man's hands on my good
Don't act like you get gyal in
Your white girls look like Bilbo Baggins
Your black girls walk round tits all sagging
You ain't the best in your bits, you're gassing
Grew up in E3, home of the gang ting
Got skills, so I use tekkerz when I bang tings
Got a young brother on drilling so I brang him
And I make sure I rang him
[Verse 2: Novelist]
Yo, I'm a brick wall, you're a fence
I'm a box of food you're a zed
All this talk about label I heard he got signed for a benz
That's that's that's dead
It's more dead than the shape of your head
[Reload]
Best that you sit down, put your lips down
2 pound mix downs you man get
Grime scene ain't gonna let you in
Don't care about your invasion link
Cuh' them man are sick
You're just shit
My yute try say "Tiger Tiger!"
But I heard you wear leopard print
[Reload]
Fuck your [?] link
Novelist and I'm back back
Your barber needs to come back and trim
I ain't heard a sick bar in a while
You're like the black guy in 8 mile
You can't release a mixtape on iTunes
Wiley will leak that in a zip file
That's your shit file
C-a-d you're a likkle batty
[Verse 3: Cadell]
Look, I tell a man straight, fuck what you heard
My side ain't no wannabe goons
Girls on your side follow me too
N***as on your side holla me too
Can't ever tell a bad boy about tweets
Hol' tight your wife she follows me too
[Reload]
Until my man stepped inside
Them man thought there was gonna be goons
I will jack boys and I'll wrap boys in a room
Colt .45 no toys in the room
Why can I hear your noise in the room?
Didn't wanna hear your noise in the room
You snooze you lose
So when I make a move
My teams like Noah's ark [?] by the two
Real? Can't ever get a wheel
Can't tell me about no [?]

[Verse 4: Novelist]
Yo, in the ditch is where you're gonna end up
Don't talk about my face, cos' how can your lips be hencher than Webster?
[Reload]
Don't say a basic bar about clothes
How can you chat to me about lyrics?
You don't have a penny
The only paper you've got in your pocket is a bus ticket
Heard your style, bars are wack
You can't spit, lips are fat
Your teeth are yellow
Like you've been biting on a highlighter before the clash
Side man, you sound like a cockney white man
You're not real like the yats in Thailand
Shemale organs, dem' are inside man
My flow? I heard that [?] man
That you like man, you're a gay man
I'll slap man straight in his face fam
Like, you're better than what?
Shut your mouth you will get boxed
You can't fit in my shoes like socks
I'm a UK don
[Round 2 - Instrumental: Novelist - I'm the Boss ]

[Verse 5: Cadell]
Why does he think he's hard?
I'm a class A he's any B class
Might spray three bars then I recharge
Straight to the four bars spitting more bars
Shame nobody laughed at your bars
Wouldn't get seen the world with your dargs
Tell a boy wagwan with your rassclart?
Look at his glasses any half ass
[Reload]

[Verse 6: Novelist]
Fire in the booth, fire in the booth
You're not you're not fire in the booth
When I touch mic I get bare wheels
You come like flat tyres in the booth
Your man are liars in the booth
Talk about dough, but you're skint
Look at his clothes, look at his lips
I can't tell what's bigger in width
What the rass? What the rass? [?]
Tings get nuts on the mic when I step on
Thinking you're hard cos you've got a couple of bars
Manna' write a sick bar reload in a second
Manna' man ain't shook cos you're holding a weapon
I text your wifey, take her in a second
Beef kicks off, lick a man like Tekken
Manna' been writing bars since year 7

[Verse 7: Cadell]
And yeah you can attack
You like the feds just like the hot spurs in Tottenham
Can't tell me about bars cos I've got them
MCs wanna talk greaze and I hot them
Did it how they didn't wanna do it
But I done it with class
Never had love for the Ofsted
You want war? Bring it on with your long head
[Reload]
And yeah you can attack
But you like the feds just like the hot spurs in Tottenham
Can't tell me about bars cos I've got them
MCs wanna talk greaze and I hot them
Did it how they didn't wanna do it
But I done it with class
Never had love for the Ofsted
You want war? Bring it on with your long head
I'll spin, spin again
Spin any don on mic till there ain't no dons left
Want connects? I've got them
That's in abundance, from oldest down to youngest
I done this, 100
Wile out? You will get punctured
And it get's realer than that
You ain't got the blue, let a lone the green on your back
Me I'm all red, you know what I'm meaning for that?

[Verse 8: Novelist]
C-A-D you're a likkle mc
C-A-D can't spit like me
C-A-D wants to be like Nov
C-A-D is a C-A-T
B-O-W dash your team
B-O-W, big in the scene
B-O-W nah fuck that
You're a B-O-W-C-A-T
[Reload]
Next man
Fart, and put the blame on next man
Too rude get kicked out of your house
You got a girl but you tried call dets man
[?] with this one
Bottom lip, you've got a big one
And it looks way heavy to lift up
I spit, but you're shaking your lips off

[Verse 9: Cadell]
Way too many 16's half of it's weak
Yeah you're hard on beats
Manna' chatting and bragging about pardon me
I talk rough because I'm a star on street
Kojo's stressed on the road in south
Me I'm the best coming out of east
Yo, listen, yo
Heard he loves getting money from prostitution
Shaking his ass on street
I like the last bar, your other bars are weak
Been about before shut your mouth don't speak
Sisters, don't leave me around them
When I link gyaldem, gyaldem leak
Me and my squad ain't you and your squad
You look like a young black rounders teef

[Round 3 - Instrumental: Rick Ross - Drip]
[Verse 10: Cadell]
Lemme start with a bang, shut up
Rudeboy you're not bad, shut up
Spin a man straight
They put my tunes on like give him man wait
Slap to the forehead
Somebody tell these shortbreads
I ain't no little man cake
If you don't mix I'll spin a man's face
It's been so long that you can't advise me on how to get a man paid
I'll get a man down if I aim one lyric
Same ones looking for love I don't give it
Never went down for a minute
Never hear me say back in a minute
Suck for a minute
Told em', don't tell me about money I get it
And yeah I spent nights in the roads
But if I go commerc for the roads I'll still rep it

[Verse 11: Novelist]
Your don thinks he's Drake
Your guy thinks he's Wayne
And you think you're the Tiger Tiger
But you're fake
Why not Wiley? Why not Birdman?
Broke in willy sacks
Y'all dons kiss my bros ain't into that

Meanwhile your ass says made in Trinidad

It's N-O-V I'm the realist
Man don't know wagwan like they're [?]
My man said I'm gonna get bun
So I locked off his marg and she said she'll eat it
[?]
Get roasted without the seasnonng
Beef me


[Verse 12: Cadell]
No need to pretend
I had to take time to laugh at his head
[Reload]
Manna' bad man
From the heart of the east end
Don't wanna be friends with none of his friends
He bends over for half his friends
Team fuckboy they rep his ends
Them man like to give next man head
I beat up the pum pum left it dead
And who get's the gyal dem? Yes it's I
Same one who buss in your exes eye
[Reload]