Wiley - Eski Shells lyrics

[Verse 1: AJ Tracey] It could all go wrong on a grim day Ruin man's day, give a f** what his ting say Don't get pumped cuh your chick's in sight Cuh the 44 long looks thick like Kim K Draw 'em all like a goal in the 90th In the dance, wapped up, I'm a 90s kid Grab a b**h, spilling yak when I'm wavy Red Bull all on her chest, that's hyper tits See, it's hot in my bits See, in my bits, let sticks pop in my bits Young Gs with a flick and a rock in my bits My n***as are on tops in my bits In my bits, don't come to my block Dial in man for the bits on the blocks You're a sideman, Lonsdale all on your top And you cat for the dro when you don't have gwop Armani man bags, not here for the fashion One hand in if a yout starts ga**ing Headstart, run but the T will catch him No encore, see the [?] start clapping There's bare machines like Maplin He left his iPhone in the seat that he sat in Girls try run all over the set Burst tryna dodge bros and the shots start flapping Insta drop man, no iPhone apping Friends get snapped so they wanna start backing Bare [?] I'm Django jacking UPS goons cuh the team's all packing Get banged for the greaze they are chatting Gunman? Who? What rifle you clapping? Still clingfilm that I keep rapping Temper tantrum in the trap, I'm stamping [Verse 2: MicTy] I don't think they can handle the guy Like "how we gonna take his lines in the night?" That's mad, that's facts When I'm ga**ed, there ain't no drought when I sight I'm pulling off shots, I am fully on job I ain't talking white as in white I'm talking grime as in grime Yeah, the name's Mic to the Ty with the livest of vibes Since this guy has arrived Since this guy has arrived, they strive off the hype That's normal, so Shell this sh** on the normal, bro Get my bread, that's normal dough Truth be told, your corpse is owed with your awful flows I'm on set and you've said two bars With your Beckham tekkers, it's best you pa** That's real, these were bedrooms Not a year ago, these were bedroom bars Now I guess Déja is the bedroom, darg I talk stuff, talk, cuz, you talk crud But talk up when I tool up, your talk's done You still don't get it, you can mark me out the game, cuz You still won't win it I'm Suarez, you're a bit-back If you didn't get that, you're a bit-back New fresh of breath like a Tic Tac And the flow is nice, it's mad, you get that You'll get left back if you don't Patrice Evra Sorry, if you don't practice ever Specially if you're not match-fit, brother Can't match me, brudda, score hat trick, bruddas [Verse 3: AJ Tracey] No greaze bars in this one, no lie I collect art, so I'm on an artsy vibe So forward that I can't rewind Man, I'm so cashed out that I can't decline You man are broke and you're hating No bra for bruddas that get weighed in You man are haps cuh your jeans cost two bills Fam, I spend that on a frame for my painting SB.TV, Rinse, BBC 1Xtra I've had a whole bag of airtime I've got bare sick bars, can't air mine I heard man's send, but where is it? It must have got lost like a Malaysian airline I'm on point like a Caucasian hairline You man are wa*k cause you wa*k in your spare time Me, I just vibes, write bare lines [Verse 4: MicTy] Murking again and it must be told Ain't gonna lie, man, I love it loads I'm just getting my bread up, we touching loafs [?] gone, I'm coming home Might see me in Greengate with a few team mates Yeah, let's go now They replaced the pub with a Tesco now It's still a place where the mess goes down Down, MicTy will dead your sound Don't wow, you see him as a threat, no doubt Let's see how long the best holds out When I'm breathing down his neck for a while Name's MicTy, got a next profile Come against me? Need Jesus, bro Yeah, yeah, your team is jokes You've got no chance just like England's hopes [Verse 5: AJ Tracey] Who's this yout tryna stunt on the back roads? He'll get wet like Kelly from BangBros Yeah, I drive through, hit it back, then I slang Os No COD 4, wig shot for the tangos He's tryna screw, getting f**ed up He'll get wet like a ting getting touched up Cuh he weren't saying that much when we bucked up Now your wife's all on the phone like 'tut tut' [Verse 6: MicTy] Where I'm from, manor is mental Don't get man ah man ah mental, dem man ah man ah mental Watch your manors, are you mental? Run up on your flat and your manor, that's mental Where I'm from, manor is mental Don't get man ah man ah mental, dem man ah man ah mental Watch your manors, are you mental? Run up on your flat and your manor, that's mental