Graveyard Business

Rude!
Rude!
Yo Rude!
Yeah
Ah why you bed?

Chale who be this tapping my window?
Oh, Berch
Wassup? (Chale I dey)
Chale I was just napping
I've been home since the kidnapping
This lad is in limbo (Is he dead?)
I no know what make I do the body sef
Give him a bitch slap as an intro? (Chale hurry!)
Yeah he passed out
'Kay I'm getting my ass out
Just grabbing this thing yo
Ebe like this be ein last hour
Why did he let this happen to him tho?
If it's just rapping, I'm ten toes down
Literally, chale I sawed off his feet first
This sort of unique thirst for an opp's blood gets me on a diss track
Then I win foes
More bodies
Graveyard Business
We go murder you then your paddies
Just to safeguard this shit
Berch, gimme the body bag (Take am!)
Ein legs no dey fit inside the body bag (Break am!)
E nodey fit! (Chale break am!)
Okay e fit
But I'm guessing he's prolly mad
Maybe for ein next life, he go tread cautious
Wey ein woman be dead gorgeous
See — like literally dead (Ugh!)
It's dread sɔn when we get tortious
Anybody can get it
Competition dey get nauseous sekof the lyrics be filthy
Hmm chale e start dey get torturous
Let's get his brother next week (Make we go!)
End am then split
Koti can't touch this (Abi you know!)
Let's get another emcee (Yeah!)
Hammer some shit
Smash in his windpipe (Take this one!)
Keep bashing it inside
Yeah that shit is king size
Make we hit the road
Hope no traffic is in sight
Your faves all dey on thin ice
Your babes all start dey switch sides
Sekof which kind rappers you niggas dey listen?
RBD's been nice since I got married to the game
Now she no dey impress so I call her a mid wife
Cause she no dey help with my delivery
Cause I'm not inspired
Fuck the misery
I dey come dim lights sef
Make e make dark
My name's carved on the game's heart with a flint knife
(Straight bars! This guy!)
They can train hard with ten mics
But I make it look easy cause she dey my body like skintight
Haha
They notice me
So niggas dey troll with tweets
But if we beef, it's real
I'm calling your diss "Gaza"
Folk, ain't no deceit, I spit lava
Nobody fit flow this heat
Word to my co-emcees
This 9-5 got me so busy
It's why the fucking bar's low, you see?
But you boys know I'm no pussy
I could go broke and deep in debt
Till my career goes south and there's no capital
I still go fuck up a soul (Seoul)
Indeed, RBD controls the seat
Competition is so deceased
I know there's killers like KooKusi
Kev, Clipse, Trip, Delis and Romeo
Please, there'll be no retreat
Even if them niggas is cold on beats
Erfuckingbody is prone to grief
When they witness my potency
They'll know their growth has peaked
Not known for peace
So finally, make I go at these
Wannabes everything them go critique
Some nigga thinks Joe is deep
Huh
No way
Bet he's high on some cocaine
Or Opana dey smoke the leaf like Nagato
Chale I go make you know pain
These lyrics go show McClean and his whole gang
I'm the coldest
See bitch, you better be slow to speak
I don't play
I'm sick o' this whole thang
You niggas be digging your own graves

We catch chale
Ah ebe here?
Yeah here he dey stay
Aight
Vim