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lirik lagu yam & weave – edgar the beatmaker

[intro]
oh, yeah, i can’t hear myself, g
i can’t hear myself, g

[verse 1]
the lo’s got loads of bros who have low prospects
ten months since their last pay*cheque
cut off the benefits ’cause they thought he did not benefit
so they let the lead rip on his lips
they were never taking his hair, but
none the less, while i’m there soakin’ on the
waiting list they said: “do you
feel the weight yet, sket?”
thеse streets bring more heat by thе week
because so many souls riding on this lost highway
you can try ride this nappy headed n*gga way
but you wouldn’t last a day, you wouldn’t last a day
we nappy headed n*ggas from the south of the river
nappy headed n*ggas from the south of the river
nappy headed n*ggas from the south of the river
nappy headed n*ggas from the south of the river
[verse 2]
nappy headed n*gga from the south of the river
get high when i’m in that, watch deliver, first trigger
iced out in a shiver, hot now winner in a
around ends ’cause there’s heatin’, be seekin’
tits, be peakin’, blitz this beacon, put it on and out on top
rhyme, millenium falcon shot, i remember when i first saw
ended up like x was bought from [?] in this
next to naught, i hope i ain’t next to that, why?
many man try, they got to get by, then they get set by others
stressed for their mothers
then blessed from my brothers
they test in the covers of water
never got drowned at an alter
man, i ain’t down to get altered
blesses him and i’m next to win, get vexed
they keep on testing then, test me to the limit
and they’re gonna get it, got to get it, that did it
that man i say that twice
hold the verse, when they’re pickin’ out ice
but don’t stop me, ’cause i’m zero chill, would k!ll the real [?]
i’m the deal, like the man of steel
smoke [?], guns no funds, i’mma run into the sun
and when i do the thing, i do the king, i gotta get it in
[?] just ’cause we’re dipping in and out
can you hear me now? i ain’t bathed in doubt
trade eased it out
’cause i be believing, or maybe dreaming, or what is seeming
like a scheme in the works
swear down, it’s hard to find cream in the dirt
[verse 3]
we affiliated with all types of stigmas
some are along the line “you’re a hypocrite”
too quick to judge, i never was
she thought i was a street [?] who resembled a thug
well, tony hawke’s underground was my best buds
’til i met the effects of
jamaican s*x and a large bum
on a quest to eject my flesh from this abyss’s depths that you could only concept
can’t sweat over death, grand theft, a world where i can rest
though i was faking, both of my parents suffered incarceration
dad was a mental patient while mum had rehabilitation
cold turkey, like after thanksgiving, but i’m from britain
london to be exact, would be nice to be precise
but i’ve moved more times than i can count
gotta shake around ’cause there’s something i can’t pr*nounce
announce or even speak about
pigs always tryna catch me out
see them on my route, and i regret and doubt
we nappy headed n*ggas from the south of the river
nappy headed n*ggas from the south of the river
it’s an exhibition to the way we live, the way we spit
it’s an exhibition to the way we live, the way we spit
it’s an exhibition to the way we live, the way we spit
let’s dip, split, car, run, duck, boot, shoot, leave, caboose
put shoots to use, loosen the noose
get out of the coupe, escape the zoo
the jungle, it’s waiting for you
the jungle, it’s waiting for you
it’s waiting for you
[outro]
h*llo, h*llo
it’s edgar down here
yah, there’s a bit of spit on the microphone mate
lucky we got this guard
(oh dear)

- edgar the beatmaker

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