paroles de chanson Nutcrackerz - Dizzee Rascal , Giggs
Cause
man
ain't
bumping
him
or
you
Man
ain't
bumping
him
either
Man
ain't
come
for
him
Man
ain't
come
to
grin
neither
Man
ain't
comforting
geezers,
ease
up
Man
ain't
jumping
in
neither
Man
just
jumpy
and
eager
beavers
Shit
ain't
sunken
in
neither
Man
just
old
school
from
Gloucester
Grove
When
man
had
comfortable
Fila
Back
when
[?]
didn't
even
live
there
It
was
Josh
and
Makeda
Back
when
gangsters
weren't
even
shooting
Man
took
chunks
with
that
cleaver
Back
all
Super
Dee,
Stone
Love
days
Yep,
Jamrock
Sound,
Metro
Media
Back
in
the
day
when
I
was
broke
I
was
on
Bow
Road
and
looking
out
for
eaters
Back
in
the
day
before
I
had
seven
figures
Our
bredders
were
begging
me
for
features
Back
in
the
day
before
bloggers
and
tweeters
Before
they
knew
I
was
a
genius
They
were
the
days
when
I
was
excluded
From
school
for
fucking
with
my
teachers
I
was
so
damn
facetious
I
would
leave
em
with
fevers
Seizures,
bunch
of
holes
in
my
sneakers
Back
in
the
day
before
I
had
that
Brand
new
Range
Rover,
looking
devious
Previous,
I
was
moving
mischievous
None
of
my
girlfriends
were
divas
Making
moves
was
the
easiest
Please
don't
make
me
get
deeper
I
was
linking
Kamika
Ice
Rink
and
that
Creeper
Had
em
dropping
in
caesars
Jesus,
bunch
of
unstable
geezers
Bunch
of
peelers
and
dealers
Demons,
they
were
holding
them
beaters
We
were
owning
them
speakers
Man
came
back
with
that
classic
Man
came
back
with
that
Raskit
Rolled
up
with
them
Rottweilers
And
came
back
with
Bullmastiffs
Quickly
grab
them
six
brownings
Women
grab
me
two
taxis
There's
a
negative
and
a
plus
side
Hollow's
back
with
new
batteries
Hold
up,
coming
back
for
you
fassies
Better
run
home,
could
I
[?]
the
new
lassy
Them
two
straps
are
too
massive
Jumped
out,
pap
pap
pap
with
two
maccies
Quick,
jump
back
in
front
seat
and
back
seat
Pricks
get
bought
Ribena
and
Capri
Don't
gas
me
I
was
in
the
back
streets,
couldn't
catch
me
On
a
jack
spree
They
looking
at
me
like
"why
you
wanna
rap
me?",
that's
crappy
I
was
actually
not
flashy
They
couldn't
hack
me
All-black
in
my
Nike
Air
tracky
And
I
went
all
out
on
a
fassy
And
I
didn't
make
beats
on
a
lappy
What
you
know
about
Rex
in
Stratty?
Exactly
Had
a
yatty,
in
Hackney
Big
batty,
a
bit
scatty
But
I
was
happy
Cause
she
cooked
saltfish
and
ackee
She
didn't
clap
me
So
I've
gotta
give
thanks
to
Selassie
Shy
FX
and
UK
Apache
The
speaker
blowing,
better
keep
it
going
Mention
Hollowman
when
your
speaker
flowing
Get
that
mozzarella
cheese,
get
the
pizza
going
Seen
your
gully
side,
now
your
weak
is
showing
My
nigga
Dizzee
Ras,
they
say
he's
a
poet
They
hear
we
drop
a
track,
niggas
tippy-toeing
Now
come
around
a
man
with
your
pissy
poems
I've
got
bitches
on
my
dick
and
their
lippy
showing
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