Wiley - Zip It Up lyrics

[Verse 1: Giggs] Stretch out my rap flow Hollowman let me switch up to swag mode I get my spliff up get that rode Pick up my door key, slip on my black coat Rip up a rap show First thing gotta pick up the strap though Big boy stuttin, that'll rip out your backbone (Ugghhh) Mad batches I wouldn't wanna be who the mad catches But let's switch up from the rap antics My jeans look gully and the hat matches (Jheeze) Fantastic I don't spend cash, nah I grab plastic I talk about the rap scene, man smashed it Your CD's whack, cos your man ga**ed it Walk in the park, man smash hits B.E.T. award, man bagged it Popped up, guns up, Baghdad sh** (Ugghhh) Mad swag sh**, crack sh** I can't leave it, strap magnet Bagged it Rudework Creme, man backed it Wiley, hollowman Man chat sh** [Verse 2: Wiley] Zip it up when badman a pa** in Live shows, live money, we can half it I used to wonder why my walls had carpet Friends made jokes and I couldn't even mask it Now I'm making money with my old friend Target Got a lemon zoot in my hand, lemme spark it Tek a one draw, put it down then I aim for the target MCs thought I was pa**ed it Put my by the river and I bet you I could part it Smart kid, our kid, flyboy apartment We're doing business and they ain't even started Underground car park where I'm parking Club nights in the hood is where I started Somebody said I can't make money And then my daughter said "somebody farted" I'm saying somebody charted, Me Plus somebody's laughing, Me It's okay in the driveway Bents in the courtyard, Bikes in the garden Beef? Beg your pardon Better step back and from the darkness When I ball through there'll be no clear skies And I don't fear guys I'll be swinging in the market I'll be swinging in the market A lot of man are half-hearted A lot of man don't bark it A lot of man do it but they didn't start it Hummer's on the back, roads where I parked it Grime lands mine, I've already marked it I'm the king when I roll through anywhere You're just a King when you roll through Barnet [Verse 3: Trigga] [?] I'm not a talka No loose lips, no propaganda No informer, no information Never say too much, in a conversation When mi come thru, that a danger Big nine millie, one in de chamber Manna like Triggz don;t bring the Luger They never see me dark wid a big revolver Sharp like a razor, cool and deadly Bigging up mi crew, in de penitentiary Dark like a who, dem no dark like me An' mi come to represent for the SDC Fly gal she like it when mi in a corner Manaman drive Mercedes, me a push di Beamer True dapper Dan, manna real super Man I'm all about the money, I'm a real hustler Just a likkle heavier Don't where me live ina Manchester High explosives in de city centre Moss side mandem a living gangsta Black hoodie, black gloves Dat a shower sniper Rough rider, see man a Rough Ryder Peck'nam crew, dem a true soldier Bow E3, protect it to de T Rat-a-tat-tat from de big Uzi Hol' tight Skepta, Prez-T, JME An' Boy a Better know, see this is de Trigga MC Hol' tight Giggs, you know see dat a family Roll Deep, Flow Dan and me bredrin Wiley An' the Midlands mafia, manna come down proper See all the flyer squad, you know manna memba Baseman' a spider, mi bredrin Crocka Anytime we come tru, we get a likkle darka