Chip – Hear Dis Lyrics

[Verse 1: Chipmunk]
One pen got the whole country on the edge of their seat
Them man can’t play musical chairs with me (never!)
Nah, I don’t wanna chill backstage with no fake MCs
Some leave the room, wanna chat about me MCs
Nah, dead that, diss me, won’t like when I send back
There’s way too many bars in my head back
I don’t care where you come from, head back
Take off your head back
Please don’t say you weren’t warned
No, we can’t link up, no, we can’t talk
If you hear a 16 bar full of corn
And it weren’t Chipmunk, money’s on Stormz

[Verse 2: Stormzy]
Ummmmm, you cunt
Where was you for the past 12 months?
You can get a “Skengman 5” from a Storm or
You can get a blukubyebye from a Munk
Like who’s got the whole scene pissed?
If it weren’t Big Mike, could have been Chip
You’ve been saying my name for a whole damn year
By this time, you could have been rich
Are you taking the piss? Brother, I’m blessed
I don’t need no bulletproof vest
Man wanna put my skills to the test
Bun that, I’d rather clash RS
Bun that, I’d rather win some more
Not enough champs, could you bring some more?
We’ve been spinning MCs for the longest
2016, let me spin some more

[Verse 3: Chipmunk]
Alright, cool, let me go true, who are you?
What have you seen? What have you been through?
Yo, likkleman you wanna stunt on who?
I know Chris Brown, Chris Brown don’t know you
About gully-side, what? What? When? Where? Who?
I know Mavado and he said he don’t know you
The grime scene, you can go there too
I know Big Mike, Big Mike don’t know you

[Verse 4: Stormzy]
I know Chipmunk and he said he don’t know you
I know Bonkaz and he said he dont know you
I know some OGs in your ends
And they know your friends but they don’t know you
You’re not a badboy, badboys don’t know you
You’re not a real nigga, real niggas don’t know you
I know your ends, I don’t know you
King of this ting, yeah, they all know who

[Verse 5: Chipmunk]
I had man on my side that were moving shaky
Not on my team anymore
Man wanna try take me for some little boy
I’m not 16 anymore
Why’s this industry fronting
Like their scene don’t need me anymore?
I will pepper man right out of their dreams
Don’t sleep on me anymore

[Verse 6: Stormzy]
I will piss on an MC’s dreams
Til a man like me can’t pee anymore
I don’t tolerate psycho chicks
I’ll block that bitch, don’t pree anymore
They said I can’t tweet ’bout the government
Why can’t I be free anymore?
I’ll expose these racist clubs and feds
Who can’t move me anymore

[Verse 7: Chipmunk]
8, 16s, 24s
48s, 64s, 96s
Chips got too many bars, do not risk it
They take it serious, I take the biscuit
I want the crown, crown
Mhm, I’ll pen you down down
OK, dubs all around man
Damn right, call that surround sound
I’ve been around town
Times when man weren’t around town
Getting love in your ends like it’s my town
Could never take my crown, nah then or now
Cuh now and then
I get mad and just grab then pen
Skeng man down, if they get back up
Bun that, clap man down again, I’m on sound again
Gotta put on for my town again
It’s straight high grade, no more loud again
When my brother gets home, I pray to god
He don’t do time again
It’s my time again, can’t be taking my time again
Peng tings feeling grime again
I’ll tell a man don’t worry, I’m fine again
You better find your pen

[Verse 8: Stormzy]
It’s like “I’m Fine” again but it’s better
I won’t sign with them they’re not clever
Back my Heineken and my Stella
Whip some pies again like Nigella
No time for them, I won’t bell up
Take my lighty friend to Ciao Bella
This life’s a myth, I try tell her
She just wants my drink and my cheddar
Just done another tour with Annie
Stormzy’s taking the piss, how can he?
Glasgow, Edinburgh, Cardiff, Manny
Trying to be the first MC with a Grammy
Hang tight Mark, hang tight Danny
Man are old school like DJ Sammy
Swear down right now everyting’s bookey
I’ve never seen man act so bammy
Stand your ground, don’t be shook
I’m gonna be everywhere you look
Don’t need no one, nah, I’m good
A thousand hours in the studio booked
The time you took, the way they parred
Them man ain’t got a clue ’bout bars
Til’ you see a skinny little brudda from a car
Money in the bank, put the money in the jar, word

0

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.