文本歌词

Who's that who's that who's that
The dopest flyest OG pimp hustler gangster player hardcore motherf**ker living today
To be honest I'm totally and completely on his ****
And you know this man
It's the return of Dizzee Rascal
Dem bwoi nah ready yet trend dat u never set
Silence silence silence dat stop that start that get that Yeah you know
Going on dirty going on stank Yo
Roll deep with these put these MC's on deep freeze
Hit these Whitney's and rip these Come like Busta we flip these So Please
Don't rap with these fearless angry sick MC's
Don't like Christine's or Britney's Lala's or Tinky Winky's
And this one strictly for pick these Old school afro dry white beats
Barclays Halifax we stick these Endless gunshots we lick these
Trick these CID's with ease touch mic MC's jump like fleas
Playa haters get chopped like trees a boy rascal to a boy in histories
It seems to be cars （and） cash （and） girls （and） heads
And manners on the flames better keep your eye out for them feds
It seems to be phones （and） bling （and） raves （and） w**d （and）
Pay up what you owe or else them boys will make you bleed
It seems to be DJ's （and） MC's （and） Gold rings （and） Nikes
We roll deep for the money we don't want no technicalities
It seems to be love （and） war （and） hate （and） life
Harsh life hustle life thug life street life
So far from clean play kiss chase with your aunt Maureen
Get rhymes get heard get seen Dizzee run tings like Idi Armin
Keep vigilant keep on guard we chuck grenades at Scotland Yard
Retard get kicked out real hard leave death threats in your birthday card
Co uk at the stopper Bare-foot Pimp holler
It seems to be cars （and） cash （and） girls （and） heads
And manners on the flames better keep your eye out for them feds
It seems to be phones （and） bling （and） raves （and） w**d （and）
Pay up what you owe or else them boys will make you bleed
It seems to be DJ's （and） MC's （and） Gold rings （and） Nikes
We roll deep for the money we don't want no technicalities
It seems to be love （and） war （and） hate （and） life
Harsh life hustle life thug life street life
Ding dong its on fake MC's wanna sing my song
Wanna test hurry up bring it on wanna take me for a mong （Nar that's wrong）
Hit em with the Jeet Kun Do like key low blow leave bullet holes in the moschinos clothes
Hot like where the w**d grows carry condoms for the hoes
Back front inside out Dizzee got the floor to make a boy white out
Six foot deep you could never climb out I smoke the w**d till my mum finds out
Front back outside in bare-foot kids living on ging-seng
Love makin nah doggy-styling in a dark park where the dark come in
It seems to be cars （and） cash （and） girls （and） heads
And manners on the flames better keep your eye out for them feds
It seems to be phones （and） bling （and） raves （and） w**d （and）
Pay up what you owe or else them boys will make you bleed
It seems to be DJ's （and） MC's （and） Gold rings （and） Nikes
We roll deep for the money we don't want no technicalities
It seems to be love （and） war （and） hate （and） life
Harsh life hustle life thug life street life