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lirik lagu yeah – dead players

ghost town
andule motherf-ckers
dabbla
arriba and all them tings yeah
jam baxter
listen
nah actually f-cking listen

motherf-cker i’m ill

(verse 1 – dabbla)

i’m gonna get it smashed
every single minute of the day, any how, any way
that you want it i’m on it i gotta dash in a flash
then i pull up in a car that’s crashed

stunting like man of the match
with a brand new batch
and a brand new bag
and a brand new chick
and a brand new pad
that brand new sh-t
i put it down you slag

yeah

i’ve had enough of the talk
everybody’s running but they can’t ever walk
so i walk in the place with a smile on my face
and i’ll wyle out with a drink i ain’t even bought

and you can take that to the piggy
wagwan officer everything jiggy?
fancy a ciggie? course not
cause you on the job and you ain’t clocked off
no biggie

but don’t get it back to the front
i will say “b-tch”, “motherf-cker” and “c-nt”
not just on record but in front of my mum
and i’ll do that ’till i turn hundred and one
or maybe hundred and two
stepped in the game now it’s under my shoe
can’t say anythings changed i’m the same pr-ck
that i was two thousand and five
six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven
are we really heading into armageddon?
seems like that’s what they’re shoving down our throats
it’s our future, lets make it our own, what you reckon?
i was always told life was hard
buy a big house and drive a nice car
in school if you asked me what i wanna be
back then i would have said the first boy on mars

(hook)

all i wanna do is get lean with my team
if you know what i mean say “yeah”
i drink, i puff, i can’t get enough
and i couldn’t give a f-ck like “yeah”
all i really wanna do is make noise with my crew
if you know how we do go “yeah”
don’t care what they say, when i run away
i’m gonna grind all day like “yeah!”

(verse 2 – jam baxter)

i’m done with the stupid questions
never called this a new direction
just ghost town running with a huge collection
of the can’t park beats too rude to mention
so nah, i ain’t gonna jam to the usual
bare man g-ssed from a bag full of bugles
deep in my side and believe in the hype
what i seen in my life would turn a staff to a poodle
nah, be truthful, all i seen
is a whole bag of kids with -ssorted dreams
and bare bad manners and a f-cked up bladder
cause they sniffed all the tranq’, lets applaud ’em please
i ain’t tryin’a get rinsed as a preacher
but why would your best friend litre
that’s all i’ll say, keep all our days
in a big u-box in a singular freezer
???
???
???
???
who’s that geezer?
sat down grinning
shining, surrounded by cracked out women
he didn’t buy a drink, get your shank out k!ll him
nah that’s baxter, jam down with him
yep, chilling, club full of oddb-lls
bare man in skin tight jeans looking hostile
me i’m on a tracksuit ting with the hf tee and a ??? ??? ??? my ensemble
bruv, you seen them brers??? ?
ah, f-ck it, i don’t even care
theres bare loud rigs in the warehouse rinsing a tear out???
come fam lets bop there???
yeah
life as it is
bare hard work and it’s finally criss ???
so ima do me and keep running round stages
spraying bars ’till i gotta slide for a p-ss

[hook]

[verse 3 – dabbla & jam baxter]

the hip-hop scene hate me
the grime scene hate me
there ain’t no better tag team i’ve seen lately
giving them a high speed chase on the daily
me, jam baxter and ghost town baby
(baby)
love it when the flow sound lazy
make you wanna go down, throw down
get into a show down, ho down, low down
maybe crazy, praying that the game don’t change me
same old me in a nut yeah
all up in the cut yeah
trying to get my whole team up there
but they’re f-cking with the flow
cause z-double-o buy the blow like “f-ck yeah”
and all your gonna hear is “tut tut”
brothers wanna c-ck block
nothing you can touch
what we got lock, go on rudeboy, take a potshot
i’m what you want blood, yeah, i’m whatnot

knock-knock. who’s there?
who cares hotshot, guess where i come from?
par when the bombs drop
nonstop, feels like god dropping hot rocks
straight off the roof, get loose in the cosmos
hop off the compost, keep all fragrant
anytime the impaler awakens
bare small butchers in bloodstained apr-ns
absailing to your brains on a raisin
your fan base is an alienator
swill champagne and await the invasion
who’s that trapped in a 2-d movie
too lean, two feet chained to the pavement
you. you, you and you, stay there
cause us three man on the track ain’t fair
and all i wanna do is get mashed with my fam
if you’re down for the jam, say “yeah”

- dead players

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