S-X - Woooo Riddim (Dream Mclean) lyrics

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S-X - Woooo Riddim (Dream Mclean) lyrics

I'm a lyrical ace, splitting them flames Blow your headphones, rhythm and ba** And girls love the badboy sweet boy Dress fly but I've got a criminal face Oh my d-d-d-days So fly, sitting in space I really can't wait till the day My vid is on ba** MySpace with a million plays Might end up with a battery in your mouth So they can see how lithium tastes And I've got a digital camera flow Point and shoot, quick flash Whiplash, stick it on Face- Book, take a look You been on my page? Search for Dream I'm sick of my face, sick of my face Other MCs be an*log TVs So watch me switch off the signal Like "welcome to the digital age" Welcome to the digital age I really ain't bait, women'll say "Hmm, nah I don't recognise face Your name's Dream, I don't know you But I swear Ca**imo's one of Griminal's mates" Ah, babes, give me a break I can't bait myself up, my girl will see So as soon as a camera comes out You won't see me like William's face You won't see P like William's papes Not William Wiley, William Great Why am I still talking about William? "Nah, don't worry, you're k**ing it mate" Brilliant, safe, I mean it, cuzzy But it don't get me P like money I still ain't gone from the coins to the notes Even though I destroy with the flows Avoiding the blows, no Gonna catch four in the nose, bro I'm already pro, so check the whole grime scene You won't find a boy better known No, no, not Jme, Skepta or Wiley Cause I'm [?] I've been blessed with the rhyme scheme The rest are behind me Too raw, the kid's deep, more than six feet More like Sydney, next to Kylie So if there's a lyrical murder I bet you could find me Holding a blood-soaked mic next to the crime scene (He did it!) Yep, cause I've been f**ed Ever since the times of So Solid I was so on it, I picked up a pen A pad to write some notes on it Then I began to enter the land of grime And it's quite a sick place, and now I've had time To design a mixtape, releasing one shortly Vocaling the most of beats at 140 Beats per minute, I need to be one of the scene's beginners That heats and eats up the streets for dinner It's a culture from the streets of Great Britain A dream the king's living, there's much more talent he Needs to take with him, we need to stay driven Trident blames grime but if it was beats they were k**ing We wouldn't need all the prisons I'm that intelligent Rhyme is strapped with venom in my pen I'm f**ed when I write, no celibate Typing, I'm a developing virus I'm that sick You'd think I inherited meningitis Or inherited elephantitis I'm that big I won't ever stop writing, something like Ghetts I'm fed up of grinding, something like Wretch Forget about violence But forget about that if anyone tries it My mentality's more like Nah, forget about Trident Siris, wet him and dry him Split him in two, Jekyll and Hyde him I am the grime scene saviour, high top fader High like planes, I'm fly like paper I'm a baider, liquid sky room raver, 5-0 evader Fight with a saber, I'm Darth Vader Fight with a laser like it's quaser I ain't gonna act like I know Keyshia I know Faye but I don't rate her But I do know Charlotte, Grace and Cara Regime barrer, blazing harder See me with Siris chasing stardom Mr Miyagi, blatant parrer English mother, Jamaican father On mic, releasing flames and lava Baiding master, racing faster Get the biggest MC you know And Dream will stand eight feet taller I'll take it all on When I line up a nine, line up a knife Line up a mic like choose one for me If you choose number three You'll live to regret that, no, forget that You won't live, you'll be dead Leave your eyes and your face ripped No stick but you'll get clapped Just know there's a time and a place, prick Cause I ain't holding a nine or holding a knife I'm holding a mic and when Dre spits I'm totally grimy, face it My deep style of combat I can achieve with a pad and a pen What you can achieve with three knives and one gat So stab me again Come back with an M16 I'll just come strapped with ten 16s More bars getting rapped than a vending machine Hard to attack when I'm barring and that Armed and I'm strapped, the harmfullest raps Start spitting crack, on the pengest lean Like it's been on the pengest weed So attempt with me And I'm taking away your heat like Trident [?] You're drying and cracked lips But I've got so much presence You might think I'm back with five other ad-libs Why all the acting? Quite unlikely Arrive with the MAC-10, beretta in your house But I bet you that it's never coming out like Halo 4 Say no more