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lirik lagu i don’t believe you (megaman hat) – scrufizzer

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[verse 1]
yo, ghe-double-t n-o
we know you’re copying devlin’s wave
i can see the guilt in devlin’s face
ten years and you ain’t better than kane?
dem boy dere better know i’m dangerous
and i’m even schooling pagans
we can go back to back, bar for bar
i’ll k!ll him on a riddim whenever you wanna start
man wanna chat about car parks
i shot mine before i saw yours on a car park
tried to pay you homage
now you wanna send shots like you’re some lyrical warlord
justin, call him an -rs-hole
you ain’t no g from plaistow
and you ain’t no gangsta
when you’ve been copying bars and flows from maxsta
always ready, don’t get comfy
call him di bajan monkey
where was your artillery
when you linked up with man like funky?
“i buss one, buss two, buss three”
shut up, justin ain’t got a pumpy
everybody in the movement got a deal
and you never got one, that’s why you’re…
say you a gon’ get that work
“lyrics, flows, eff that, burst”
and you will never be better than kane
and you’re a whole year older, i bet that hurt
so you better stick to the truth
to be honest, i don’t really care like that
man say that they wanna do man in
justin, i ain’t scared like that
so justin clarke, i will k!ll off your clart
whenever i am on the riddim, i will dead him on sight
i won’t supply time for your hype and your immature rhymes
i’ll rip out your liver or spine
stealing your flows from mercston cause you can’t make them
so you wanna copy and take them
this grime ting’s gonna come like wrestling
there’s a few things that i must confess
you ain’t letting your gun press
if you’re on a war ting, come test
who’s on the panel? who’s on the panel?
somebody ah go dead
if you’ve got a problem, holla at colin
he signed meridian dan and got paid
while you were snorting cocaine in holland

[hook]
i don’t believe it, i don’t believe it
i don’t believe it, i don’t believe it
i don’t believe all your gun talk, i
i don’t believe it, i don’t believe it
i don’t believe it, i don’t believe it
i don’t believe you, you, you, you, ahh
you ain’t got no gun, you ain’t k!lled no one
you ain’t got no gun, brudda, no, no, no, no-no-no-no
you ain’t got no gun, you ain’t k!lled no one
you ain’t got no gun, brudda, no, no, no, no-no-no-no

[verse 2]
where were you when the beef kicked off?
you jumped over the train barrier
i know you’re bitter
don’t let me talk ’bout when you got murked in malia
“you don’t wan’ see me when it’s midnight”
you’re only bad for the camera
bringing so large to all your shows
so then when the beef kicks off, he’s backing ya
so large, that’s my bredrin
anyway, let me get back to the ghetts ting
i holla’d you on twitter, insta
and you try gwan like say you never seen it?
bigged you up and called it a remix
dun know already, see, everyone preed it
now you wanna jump on tunes chatting about scru
like say the mandem teefed it
and you roll round in a ringer
you don’t write your own bars, so it’s safe to say that
mercston’s your quentin miller
for the last couple of years, you’ve been bitter
i tell mandem lay off the c0ke
cuh them type of drugs make man move funny
chatting wicked but you’ve never been cruddy
catch a body with the flow, cause you know i get uhh
now you ain’t done no drive-by shootings
watch when you buy your new ting, shut up
if your 9 works like your mind works
how come flirta d never got run up?
you can’t chat to scru bar for bar
or back to back, i’ll spin dem man one up
dem man chat about “artillery”
but you never did sh-t when your boy got cut up, man

[hook]
i don’t believe it, i don’t believe it
i don’t believe it, i don’t believe it
i don’t believe all your gun talk, i
i don’t believe it, i don’t believe it
i don’t believe it, i don’t believe it
i don’t believe you, you, you, you, ahh
you ain’t got no gun, you ain’t k!lled no one
you ain’t got no gun, brudda, no, no, no, no-no-no-no
you ain’t got no gun, you ain’t k!lled no one
you ain’t got no gun, brudda, no, no, no, no-no-no-no

[outro]
nah, that’s what i’m saying
you need to act your age
you’re a big man, nah
you’re acting like a spoiled brat
you’re 30+, nah
west london
fizzy flow to the world
yeah, yeah, that’s right
pssh, ooh, ooh

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