Lyrics Hold On - Skinnyman , Foreign Beggars , DVS
Hold
on
tight
to
what
you
own,
cos
there's
people
like
me
outside
your
door
Hold
on
tight
to
what
you
own,
cos
there's
people
like
me
outside
your
door
Step
in
the
ring,
blaze
cats,
slay
bate
twats
Make
that
train,
wait
back,
spread
an
8-track
Spitting
out
all
kind
of
rhyme
with
the
way
that
Make
any
rapper
wanna
stop
with
the
late
chat
Nobody
knows
a
nigga
looking
to
bring
by
You
couldn't
even
rock
a
toe
with
a
play
back
Foreign
beggar
fam
over
run
as
I
take
that
Rap
Montana,
write
my
name
by
the
train
tracks
Kit
Kat
rappers
get
bucked
and
bitch
slapped
Cut,
black
eye,
some
wanna
play
flip-flap?
Sit
back
up,
chit
chatter,
where
da
check
at?
Charge
next
man
£10
for
a
Tic
Tac
Spit
down
lyric
quick
fast
when
they
say
cash
Ship-wrecked
rappers
get
bucked
with
a
big
bat
Kill
any
mini-man
dick
with
a
shit
gat
Spill
a
man's
guts
with
the
face
of
a
pick-axe
Woah?
commin
on
a
bit
gotta
get
a
(lick
sharp?)
Quick
fix,
bitch,
then
did
a
bit
of
crack
rock
Red-hot
rapper,
nigga
nock
about
his
spit
right
Lock
up
any
amatuer
that
wanna
come
shit
talk
Ruba
dub
dub
get
dumped
in
the
trunk
Armed
with
a
mic
and
a
big
bag
of
punk
[?]
run
a
muck
and
then
I'll
come
Make
a
hall
stand
up,
fuck
'em
up
and
to
the
back
to
the
front
From
my
earliest
pillaging
and
scheming
with
mad
men
Bad
men
form
all
the
way
from
Erith
to
Camden
Challenging
any
man
dem
who
spit
on
a
track
I
never
saw
talkin'
shit
and
get
ready
to
lamp
him
Big
bad
rappers
get
slapped
up
in
tandem
Acting
like
dons
but
they're
openly
rampant
Jump
up
in
the
back
of
the
car
like
he
was
strapped
in
None
of
us
panic,
here
I
come
with
my
fat
pen
Blud,
I
ain't
trying
to
prove
nothing,
move
something
Too
many
man
are
left
dead
for
nothing
Get
battered
up,
whacked
up,
spurred
for
nothing
Beat
down,
hurt,
or
left
murked
for
nothing
blad
But
thats
just
how
tings
were
gwannin
When
a
man
said
hes
a
bad
man
from
morning
Now
wait
till
Sunday
morning,
his
family's
in
church,
dressed
in
black;
mourning
Nobody
had
a
chance
to
warn
him
coz
he
had
just
been
On
stage
performing
and
certain
girl-dem
had
started
to
swarm
him
And
after
that
just
sounds
quite
alarming
One
brother
said
your
a
chief
and
yes
you
can
Tell
that
im
looking
beef
coz
i
live
around
all
the
depression
On
the
streets
[?]
my
main
stress
relief
Bust
one,
and
in
your
belly
Bust
one,
and
in
your
teeth
And
heap
on
anyone
I'm
looking
to
eat
Cos
any
idiot
could
have
drawn
the
gun
back
Lick
out
the
barrel
and
make
the
gun
clap
Me
I
just
step
at
the
mic
and
I
run
checks
Give
them
the
eye
and
I
shall
return
in
a
comeback
Mr
Vulga
asked
me
to
guest
track
Instead
of
me
telling
the
man
dem
to
get
flat
The
manor
that
I'm
living
in,
yes
I
rep
that
Anything
I
want
in
life
yes
I
get
that
Disrespect
me,
get
disrespect
back
Are
you
really
from
the
ends
blad?
Forget
that
Are
you
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
from
the
ends
blad?
Forget
that
Are
you
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
really,
from
the
ends
blad?
Forget
that
1 Let Go
2 Hold On
3 Flowin
4 Where Did the Sun Go
5 In It for a Minute
6 Bollocks
7 Reach Out
8 Astroscience
9 What Goes Up
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