I don't know when sniffing cocaine turned cool
Or watching your cousin give brain to a fool
But who am I to judge though
Man diss me, I tell him it's all love though
Go and buy the single
Listen likkle rockstar playin' your guitar
With your likkle chainz on spraying like your hard
I was in the ? when I got the phone call
You was chillin' at the studio playing on the farm
You should have a patch on your eye, likkle pirate
No regrets, really always looking like my ting
Everybody said it but I didn't really mind it
Now I gotta shock a little nigga like lightening
On a bag of drugs ca' it make you feel bigger
Pale like a sheet sayin' you're a real nigga
Bally on your face looking like a real killer
Reality check brudda, you're a lead singer

Dappy you can buy as many friends as you want
You can be the richest in your ends if you want
But how you gon' chat bout chains tryna diss me
Running to your fans, what happened to you in Finchley
Me I'm in the ends with bruddas that aint rappers
Stick it in the pussy cause none of us aint faggots
I aint gonna lie, he's a sucker that's got talent
But he might die cause a brudda got habits

I could just imagine Dappy picking up a whole key
Found it at Wireless cause the dickhead OD'd
It's so lame, tryna be Cobain
You're a good yout', lay offa the cocaine

Bim bimmer, sim simma, zag-a-zag
You teef Beenie man style with your na-na-nai
Go away with what chain, that's a bag of lies
Unless you're 20 man deep with a bag of knives
Fuck boy taking pics with your willy out
Ya like Earthworm Jim with a silly hat
Lead singer tryna act like a killer now
Big man ting, somebody sit him down
I don't give a fuck what you pushed in the bank
You could have a mill, still look like a tramp
It's like he had the lights off when he got dressed
How you rich, still looking like a hot mess
Ready for me brudda, go an' battle Lethal
Underground king, you could never be my equal
Your Tarzan shit 2 was deader than Evisu
Pussy 'ole don't ever say my name cause you feel too

Dappy you can buy as many friends as you want
You can be the richest in your ends if you want
But how you gon' chat about chains tryna diss me
Running to your fans, what happened to you in Finchley
Me I'm in the ends with bruddas that aint rappers
Stick it in the pussy cause none of us aint faggots
I aint gonna lie, he's a sucker that's got talent
But he might die cause a brudda got habits

I'm just talkin' out the tings I aint fakin'
Maybe I'm too real for the mainstream
He's lying to himself saying that I'm hatin'
I guess that's what happens when you make it