Текст песни Jack Sickers Two - Nasty Jack, Grim Sickers

Jack Sickers Two

Yeah
Sounds of the (Gundam)
Jack’Um
So I’m still jacking, solo lacking
Wanna get P money? Gotta bring black in
I’m a rudeboy, never catch me napping
I don’t really hear about hoes and trapping
I don’t really rate dem man likkle stacking
Man are badman, about skeng, I’ll slap him
Think 'bout dread when you think 'bout rapping
Think 'bout weight when I think 'bout wrapping
Money, money, money, I will get petty
Blind on the riddim something like Fetty
Any time I rain down like confetti
Snipe like Wesley
You’re a rude kid but you’re not ready
Ryu hurricane kick to the belly
What kind of belly?
Call your boss, get him on the celly
Anyting Jack want, Jack go get it
No comeback on a white sheet cover shoot
Take out one, I’ll schedule the other two
Take out every single fucking one of you
Man wanna know why I talk that crud
I’m so ape, tryna shovel that mud
I’m so ape, fill a spade with dirt
Dig an MC six feet in the earth
Funny thing is, could’ve been a lot worse
Could’ve been blacked out on a packed-out church
Nan asked me why I don’t go church
hurt
Leave man bleed all over the curb
Leave man bleed all over the stairs
No combat so he just got aired
Yeah, let me make that clear
Yeah, let me make that clear
No, you won’t get weight, something like Young Spray
Future, I don’t wanna hear about segway
Back to the future, Doc Browns
Slap MCs, make 'em float like a hoverboard, get spaced
Know when I set pace
Make guys fall to the ground like a deadweight
Stone cold elevate
Punch up guys till their soul dem elevate
War with a stick if you’re my enemy
Big up my frenemy, man ah man are belling me
Man ah man have got no manners like Jeremy
Man ah man have got talent, man are like heroin
After I bury him
I will bang man’s wife, John Terry him
Bomb boy strapped to the chest and send him in
Everybody run out, any man get him
I will put a don down like ketamine
Bit of teeth on the curb and Stanley
Any verse I spit is a bag, yeah
Zip MCs up all in a bag, yeah
Rags, MCs hanging off the ceiling
Boys going rotten till the room’s all reeking
House all looking you can go trick-o-rtreating
Beat man’s girl while he’s next door sleeping
Sending for Sickers right now is a mad ting
One headbutt will have 'em migraine skanking
Grim’s on a mad ting, two sips of Magnum
Black Bin Bag Him was the rasclart anthem
Get the fuck off, Lee, let me at him
Kick him in the ribs till his lungs can’t manage
Headlock man till his heart goes flatline
That don’t work? Get the sock like mankind
Fuck your YouTube, fuck your cosign
Dem man are big time clowns, dem are jester
R-A-W, dem man are prester
Got shooters in Brummy and Leicester
Could’ve been a big mic man like Skepta
True say a badman ting, man ah kept up
Yeah, I went jail and locked down sector
Yo, Donovan, come lend me a sector
Kill MCs to compare like Specter
Leave soundboys in a concrete structure
Grime genius, welcome to the lecture
Come to the dojo but it might dead ya
Leave no clues for the MET inspector
Boys in blue, can’t help when I set ya
Not on my level, no, cuzzy, you left up
Walk in, duppy from time you stepped up
Jackson ain’t got a tinie tempah
All questions, Sickers says you got the answer
Broken bones so your body in plaster
Man says he stabbed me, I stabbed him faster
Ting went in like an iPhone charger
Put some serious work on your father
Lay man down all next to his father
Man didn’t know I was a serious barrer
Send man way down the road like Farah
Fuck that, man ah catch him, Grim like Farah
Fuck that, don’t want no trouble, no drama
Aim for the head, man call that the bullseye
Blood’s on the wall, I got caught by the poolside
If it ain’t man you get caught
Karma acts, don’t react on a poor guy
Man tried sticking up fists in a sword fight
Man got out, all they saw was the chalk line