[Verse 1]
It's Jme, the grime scene dweller
The online MP3 seller
The 100% true lyric teller
Hand on the bible spit accapella
I need listeners, you need a smeller
Cause your music stinks
Bite my flow and catch salmonella
Or get beat box like k**a Kella
Pub man ting, widda Stella
Left hook, top lip sweller
Wobbly tooth, bare Bonjela
My wallet is a cheese sandwich
First I put in the bread
And on top of that I put cheddar
And on top of that we're OGs
Don't believe me, ask Mela
[Verse 2]
It's Jme, the grime amba**ador
The badboy MP3 trafficker
If you spit acid, I spit acider
You get popped like Pringles paprika
You won't spray, man your a panicker
Can't chase my status with no stamina
You get a texas chainsaw Ma**acre
Modern Warfare silenced Raffica
No chaps, no chain, no manager
Somehow still you're not in my caliber
My lyrics are so detailed
As if I made them with a lens and an aperture
Professional, not amateur
Cause I work all night like Dracula
If two of my Friends argue I'm On both sides like the a's in Africa
[Verse 3]
Go home, look in the mirror
Realise no one's scared
You tried to diss me, no one cared
When you came radio, no one tared
You're not hench, you're not bad
You just screw up your face all weird
Tryna get hype off me you get air
Tryna get hype... you get air!
You jumped out the whip, no one ran
Nobody cares what you got in your hand
Nobody cares what you got in your jeans
I'll slap you so hard I'll crack your phone screen, yo
Don't bring war to the king
Don't tell me about draw for the ting, yo
Right about now, you're heads so big
You get charged more for you're trim, safe!