The Great British Bar Off

Check It's Dirty Devils and Edward Scissors Like an equation, it figures We're off the scale, but not sheddin' our skins like lizards Too cold when we walk through the blizzard With no hat, coat, or gloves for our digits It's been a long, long road, no fibbin' Goes so quick though, excuse me Like a sick note, but it don't get bigger I'm the realest, I'm a killer with the lyrics Just look back at SBTV, and you'll see Takin' the scene to where it hadn't been My brother Jamal, he can rest in peace Just knowin' you helped man get where they're goin' All makes sense in the mind of a poet I owe it to keep on going Like a life of the bars don't cease I'll give an arm and a leg One deep, while I'm draggin' this beat to a depth I'm Mariana Trench And thinkin', holdin' my breath, until I feel 3-2 like Wretch Until my last bastard breath I'ma cut man down on a barberous flex Who the fuck wanna spar with a vet? I'm Alexander the Great when I'm marchin' on armies again I got a spring in my step Slinky when it goes down, like Monica Lewinsky I'll be right here in the thick, they can diss me But they'll get flung like a frisbee If what you chattin' is wet Miss me, bitch, please Erich von Däniken couldn't even question my history Been spittin' like I was an M16 You might wanna run and take cover when I'm lettin' go another Send a letter to your ma, that's word to your mother Too Stella, I'm a star When at least in the gutter Yo, Dagnarm I'm still the same twisted fucker To run through the game, then rep for the borough And there ain't no name that can make me shudder Woke by a clock, and I wouldn't be alarmed Nah Sheero, how about you hit 'em with a bar? 'Bout time, you've been spittin' for a minute and a half Gotta stretch my legs, I'm just sittin' on the charts People may just think I just sing with guitar I'm at home with a start like I'm livin' in the past Writin' these lyrics while I'm sippin' on a glass of the darkest Guinness with an Irish heart Three passports, one of them red, two of them blue Lived Finsbury, and Stock Newington too 'Bout to witness the rise of the young gun Who's been listenin' to Devz when the channel was you Was Tales From The Crypt on my screen 'Til we met, kickstarted a dream It was bud, sweat, and beers, watchtower then appeared Now it's back to back bars on a beat, I've missed this Just a spitter from Ipswitch Back on OT business On time, I'm not overly tryin' But on tracks like this, a bit of soul is required It's been too long, but I been stokin' the fires Still comin' with heat like I'm holdin' an iron I remember when I was just told to be quiet Now I'm pretty sure no one's colder than I am 'Cept maybe Devs I take big strides, fuck baby steps I can't do a thing, they won't hate me less These lungs make money, so I save my breath Put me in the ring, I can take the best Gloves on, gloves off Don't blink, did he win? He must have Fly on around the world, but it used to be a bus stop Came in the booth, 'cause I had to blow the dust off Now what's what? The flow's too skippy, no hopscotch You know I hot-step Through hell and burn my own socks off Make it bang like I'm tryna get my rocks off The pretty girl's ugliest friend couldn't cockblock Glock-load, I give 'em both barrels like lockstock Now it's on top The star on the Christmas tree when me and Ed Sheeran rip this beat And like Kendrick Lamar, this dick ain't free I'm a difficult man with a sky-high festival fee Had to make it happen for myself to believe Open the door for the new generation, but they don't see who we help them to be Me and Devlin showed you what yourself could achieve Fifteen years, and we're still here Still comin' raggo, and we're still weird When Jamal passed, cried real tears Without that man, I wouldn't be here Now my first week numbers, they still fear Just real-life shit, no films here Ain't gonna see Stephen Spiel' here We took it from nothing to something, who's leavin' us killed here? No one or nothing I know that they're bluffin' Make buildings shake like an 8.8 earthquake So you might wanna hold onto something Tell 'em all the general's comin' Chat on the rooftop Two killers on a tune, what? All these other men are too soft Don't remind me of Dylan or Marley But regardless, they're two Bob Was a young gun, but we're still on, Lewi White Been here so long, guess I'm doin' somethin' alright Fuck a TomTom, drop a pin and get bowled over Salty lyrics, with a chip on my shoulder Anyone that hates me will get run over Can't remember when I was sober Drink to warm the heart when days are colder Try to drown the pain inside I'm holdin' People I don't love, that do the most, and Why you actin' like you're fuckin' know me? You weren't there when I played empty shows, and Wonderin' when the songs were gonna blow, but We kept marchin' on, 'cause we are soldiers Always been the hardest and the coldest Used to sleep on Jimmy Devlin's sofa Now he looks at you, like bro, I told ya Why, because we're Ryders like Winnona Type of rhymes to find inside my folder Might incite the minds, and break the mold, I'm Out of sight, I stand alone, a loner Mr Grey, but here with no Dakota Flip the pain and rip the game, I told ya Way back when I was the coldest younger Nowadays, call me the coldest older It's criminal how People just expect me to give it all out Singin' or rappin', I'm killin' em, wow 'Cause I got bars like criminal now Think 'cause I got kids, I'm simmerin' down? Onslaught of records, I'm bringin' 'em out I heard all the subliminals But the men are minimal, don't make me laugh out loud Yo, bro, calm down It's criminal when I don't hear no new original men Think that I sound the same with content Think you must not know Jim at all then What'd you want, a song written, a rap tune, a grime bar? Versatility with a pen Fuck, I'm all like Milwall I'm here in a lion's den, and I'm hungry again I represent for the gingers Got fire on my head, and it spits out Sit down, and then fuck your column in inches Five stars, even if the critics don't give this Eleven out of ten on my worst days But they didn't believe it in the first place Check what the flowers on the hearse say R.I.P to your worst rhyme My rise is a curse to remind you I'm here Comin' for the best ain't a good idea It's only sickness and God is all I fear All this money couldn't dry those tears When real life happens, it's irreversible Outside a career, when it's personal When the outcome of life is worse than you fear Nothing can fix that Still each year, we're comin' fresher than Tic-Tacs Somehow it fits when the genres are mismatch People lookin' in, like I'm livin' in a fish tank You' got opinions, you know where to stick that Go fill a tortilla with crap Keep comin' with your shit raps You man are get bitch-slapped, by some bitch that I bitch-slapped when I was high on a spliff And a six pack, and a bitch back When I did not give a fuck When me and Ed went back to back on these tracks When we walked 'round Dagenham, drunk 2010, startin' with Example's tour Now we're 64, then 64 more Bond that won't break, harder than it's ever been Let 'em reminisce, Ed and Devlin