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lirik lagu s04e02 – stu sesh & em dee

[songtext zu „s04e02“]

[intro]
yo, look
(it’s calum on the mix)
nja no gang sh*t
listen
yo

[part 1]
ay, yo
do you know em dee? (who?)
the realest one (what?)
the one with barbies he don’t even seem to want
the one, he wants to rap, but he can’t ever see a chance
to put some fame up on his songs and get him signed by label dons
the one who’s eating lil’ mcs for dinner
the one who caught his (shh) f*ckin’ in his opp boy’s dinger
he nearly put a hole in my man’s head
i heard one time he tried to run but ended up in em dee’s fingers
these barbies, they never ever rate him
i made a check, now everybody wants to check on me (f*ck off)
i made the press now all my homies tryna press at me
i can’t live life in peace ’cause now the world seems like it’s testing me (grr, bow)
i tried to fl!ck my wrist like bro passed me the recipe
can’t seem to find a way, don’t need no time bro, i need therapy
said i’m done, deep down in my heart i want my ex to see
are you in love with [?] or are you rating em dee
[part 2]
(ay, j, ay, j you did a mazza)
(free j*rim)
yo, blacked*out g with a blacked*out foot in my blacked*out action, no h*rny miss
doing two*o*o in the m*way tryna find (shh) cause i know where this p*ssy lives
one bad b two brown on me, sayin’ free my bro till my broski’s free
i got rammy on me and a inch fifteen
’cause them man there gettin’ [?]
i’m a naija boy but i chill with chad, france, greece, and arabs
in this game for not that long, but i still catch up with them highest rappers
i got waps, i got mashes
and i got bread like i am in paris
chop you up like i’m eating garri
[?] i ain’t talking [?]
my broski stepped ’round in a opp block, in a opp block
so the opp, he is f*cked
and the opp who’s f*cked gave him slop top in the back street of the office block
them man [back man breach?] [?] the offer to come ’round here show the team what she got
so i’m [?] cause she told us the name on the job of the [?] opps
i was in the yard like plenty
i was in the field like promes but still put in work in the street like quincy
i’m a naija boy, i’m not digga, digged out i still gally and ching
my young bro on the wing like jacky, been scorin’ points you can call him vini
best believe, make a wish like timmy
i won’t post on a chick, i won’t post on a b*tch
keep the m right up, come and post on a spliff
got bare gyaldem right there on the list
[?]
i want a persian girl with a nice, soft face and nice, soft tits
this bad b with prettiest back but i don’t really care, i want [?] kids
[?] step wih a limpy
interrogate i ain’t sayin’ a thing but i talk on some beats when i’m makin’ it ring
yeah i just put a girl in a brand new wing with a fit that’s matching the twelve*inch ching
want a crib and bag a caribbean ting with a big bare [?] makin’ shoulders fling
i’m a naija boy but i chill with chad, france, greece and arabs
been on the block for way too long, but i still catch up with your favourite rappers
i got waps, i got mashes
and i got bread like i am in paris
chop you up like i’m eating garri
[?] i ain’t talking [?]
my ygs come fast and furious somethin’ like shaw and hobbs
i’m on a glide in a toyota prius if the gun jams, put shanks through tops
as soon as i step on this feen i put my pack straight back in my jeans
that boy there never been in a scene
he chat on the net like a b*tch [?]

- stu sesh em dee

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