Dubplate Original

(album: Tribe - 2017)

Dubplate Original

When a veteran steps in the building, salute and respect from the children

Then I salute the badman back cause a real nigga recognise realness
These MCs can't back-to-back it
I've been racking up bodies since Raskit's Jordan jacket
Black tracksuit and a ratchet
Butterfly knife in the baggies
Hard knock life, no Annie
Stand one night, I'm smashing
I ain't got time for no rally

Take all the gyal and dollar the gyal
Psst. I'm a Yardie, that's how I call a gyal
Check 1-2 mic and a one tune
Man spudded you then spurned you
Can't undo history, I've written too much to be written off, young youts
We're some kings drinking ace, that's pontoon
Up Bond street. Bond suits
That's lyrical kung fu
Let me bump tunes. And they split like the sun roof
The gangsters must approve and they're waiting for the bus youts
Then the ends say I've got one (Bop, Bop)
Rudeboy, wheel it again cause all them people fi dead
The harder them MCs came, the harder them MCs fell
Them soundboys can't two for two it
Man's been stacking up riddims from 7 inch Shabba and Loochie
Dress code, Ones and twos it
Church's? No, just do it
Earnt this didn't win through it
Purchase new, not newish
Kettle on the wrist with the Tetley brewing
Italian leather just flew in
Might cop a white gold president Putin
Rev at the lights, no tell em I'm Lewis
But I'll open your door like "gentlemen do it"
Phew! This one's called harassment

Line up the caskets
I know Will wants the chorus
I think Sol wants some adlibs
I bet Rich wants the Royalties
But Rach wants the gasment
To done them fucking little bastards
If he's the best, who's man then?
Fucking hell, I'm Cassius
Abu Dhabi madness
Fookin held the zampers
Crack open the champers
For GT and them, that's mandem!
Yeh, club full of wanksters
Man act up, that's an ambulance
Wheelchair bandits, 50 bags for the Barristers
Yuck. Sounds fishy innit
But fuck that shit, got bigger fish to fillet
Then grab 60k for the 60 minutes
Drunk all summer, that's liquid living
High off life, no splif need billing
Bigger sins here, talk big boy millions
Axel Rod tryna get the billions
Criminal affiliates, black caecilians
Beef in the ends? Better grab some militants
Wraps on deck make man so vigilant
It's funny how death makes man so innocent
Image thing, I ain't got time for the mumbling
I wan' hundred
No suits when I do lunch with pudding and punch
With some of these bruddas so sunken
Take a picture of them, If they ain't done shit
When I see the pussy, I will grab the pussy but I ain't got time for the Trump shit

Some boys just don't know levels but I ain't got time to explain it
I ain't got time to explain it
Don't ask me about beef in the basement, I ain't got time to explain it
I'm your favourite's favourite's favourite
But I ain't got time to explain it
Touch road, man affi murk it
Got my other bredrin wan arrange it
And his chip won't free up the shotgun seat but I ain't got time to be faced it
I ain't got time to explain it
I ain't got time to... mad