Wretch 32 - Fire in the Booth, Part 3 lyrics

Not another n***a, nah, not another n***a Dropped on the front line with a cop behind the trigger Throw your spirit in the sky, probably drop you down and sn******g That’s why every drop of Henny’s like a shot inside my liver Certain I’m the difference, but they’ll probably beg to differ Tryna spit my thousand words before they crop me out the picture That a selfie, self-less, I’m self-raising I had no P, outta breath, I kept chasing Couldn’t go sleep, no rest, this world’s waiting on my Rolly Hell yeah, you tell Satan that I pray to the Lord, pray to the most high Penny for my thoughts, you’ll get a monkey for most lines I turn words into numbers That made work for my brothers From a kid in the bits to Columbus Now the world’s my circumference My little man’s talking ‘bout bands, I just hope that my son’s in the Mumford’s Hope he don’t lose his way, the apple don’t fall too far The designer’s the future in every way And I’m better than Shakespeare, and I ain’t writing any plays Nor am I writing to get played, it’s just my right to get the plays I was underground ‘cause it’s alright to take the train But if you was God’s son would you be hiding in the shade? I’m Rolling in the Deep, setting Fire to the Rain And it’s Written in the Stars in some Newton Oil Paint When I craft my art, I favour Banksy Man I’m Rich with life, I’m on my Antwi You see I’ll hold my weight until my hands bleed Only got my word and my bars, swear on my canteen Man if I punch lines, I’ll show you hand speed I will do a Strickland Banks before I Plan B n***a I go realer, you chimpanzee Monkey I don’t fancy dress, I dress fancy You see I once was lonely to start off Not now, these companies, I’m a part of [Verset?], that’s that drink we own all of I’ll show you the flick of the wrist, because my arm’s strong Strength no weakness, doing press-ups like the kids Now I’m trying to get my kids a head start To get them set, on their marks On this marathon of life I’m Gebrsela**ie, a son of Sela**ie I Mo Farah, my brother, told me keep up my stride More Stephen Lawrence than Boris, running to stay alive Try, crop me out picture like I’m Dame But I’m just another Jigga with some glitter in my chain Eight hundred on my frames, half a milli on my plates Only keep it 100 if I’m running with Usain But I keep it 300 when I’m running with my mates On some Louis Farrakhan, we ain’t running from a race I grew up in a maze, where I saw cats chasing their tails Dogs selling to cats, man k**ing their dogs The lost things that they found, the found thing that there God Fighting over ground, but to none of us it belongs And the cons outweigh the pros, but the pros can wear your odds And turn coke into powder, that’s just connecting the dots Man, now are you tempted to shot? Tempted to touch, attempted to murder They tried to k** me before, nothing against me shall prosper Money on my head, I’ll have to Kevin my Costner Coming for my bread, I’ll turn your muscles to lobster Wifey playing nurse, and guess who’s playing the doctor? Dr. King, Dr. Dre, man I sold pharmaceuticals, I did the doctor way Man I’m trying to meet Jay before he dashes the Roc away Cause Bishop show up prison, man, I’m only a block away Rich said “Who wakes up and really wants to come second?” Counting on my brother, got me counting all my blessings Ever lost someone who found you with intentions on bringing something out of you to turn you to a legend? When I hear the news I had to park up on the curb I was on the phone to [Twin?], and we didn’t even say a word I’m so used to pain, but there’s a difference when it hurts Cause when they took away your body man it multiple your worth, in my eyes I had tears in my eyes, Dunn’s River Fallin’, man I couldn’t even dry cry Spend time alone, see I just had to define life The good die young, so your calling was primetime Last time I came I competed with the world Now this time I’m here I’m competing with myself Don’t put me in a bracket with no one bro I got so many bullet points, bruv, that I overload Add me to the magic you might give him an overdose While I swim into a ocean, rock the boat, cause I overflow I’m so used to splashing, man I’m so used to splashing Young Fire’s on the rise, and he’s just waiting for the baton But I told him that he might have race me till I’m [paton?] Got my masters in English, so I may resort to Latin By the time you hear time, I’ll be past gear six And if they ain’t dead already, they just had a near miss I put the “fear” in fearless p**y, get a smear test And if it gets political, call me Tony Blair Witch Why did we vote “Leave?” Why did we vote “Leave?” The government’s sending kids to sleep with no dreams Their trying to tick a box, you would have thought they sold weed Everybody’s high, no wonder why the future’s codeine Codeine crazy, every dabbin’, having codeine babies Having March Madness, cause their Rolly’s 18 But I’m “Mr. Free B.A. Baracus,” A-Team With the top down, got the whip looking Page 3 Do you sympathise with me? Started From the Bottom, why the keep reminding me? There’s no similarities with you and I If I gotta die to be the best, would you do or die with me? I grew on the late Biggie hypnotizing me Am I grime? Am I rap? Why they keep dividing me? — Why they keep dividing me? Everybody goes deep and can SCUBA dive, yeah They can all flow ’til they gotta synchronise with me I made my own lane—can you see the drive in me? I’m banned from every club—can you see the Nile in me? There’s hatred in my love—can you see the irony? It’s flamin’ in my lungs—I should take this mic with me Cause I’m James Brown when he shot up the label I’m Scarface with a key of coke on the table Singing a song of praise, but I don’t need no appraisal Cause I’m Pharrell Grindin’, just tryna Pusha my ends Spirit of DMX, singing Flesh of My Flesh I’m Nas before Kelis and old school K. West—new school K. West Still they all ain’t Wretch ‘Cause if they don’t call me cla**ic, gotta call me blessed But I still do the sign of the cross, before I leave out You can nail me to the cross—if you need now If you keep calling me blood, and we don’t bleed out, and let that sh** run like rivers—you’re in de-nial Most Ws in the booth—I’m in the league now This is called “Fire in the Wretch”—3-2 style Charlie change the name! And if they don’t say I’m nice, then they didn’t play it twice You know why? That’s cause 365 I stay Growing Over Life Ah, yeah