Lyrics:

Stretch out my rap flow
Hollowman, let me switch up to swag mode
I set my spliff up, get that rolled
Pick up my door key, slip on my black coat (Oof)
Rip up a rap show
First thing, gotta pick up the strap though
Big boy suttin', that'll rip out your backbone (Ugghhh)
Mad batches
I wouldn't wanna be who the mad catches
But let's switch up from the strap antics
My jeans look gully and the hat matches (Jheeze)
Fantastic
I don't spend cash, nah, I grab plastic
And talk about the rap scene, man smashed it
Your CD's whack, 'cause your man gassed it
And mad gash shit, cashed in
Walk in the park, man smash hits
The B.E.T. award, man bagged it
Popped up, guns up, Baghdad shit (Ugghhh)
Mad swag shit, crack shit
I can't leave it, strap magnet
Bagged it
Rudework Creme, man backed it
Wiley and Hollowman
Man chat shit

Zip it up when badman are passing
Live shows, live money, we can half it (Hello)
I used to wonder why my walls had carpet
Friends made jokes and I couldn't even mask it
Now I'm making money with my old friend Target
Got a lemon zoot in my hand, lemme spark it
Tek' a one draw, put it down then I aim for the target
MCs thought I was past it
Put me by the river and I bet you I could part it
Smart kid, our kid, flyboy apartment
We're doing business and they ain't even started
Underground car parks, where I'm parking
Club nights in the hood is where I started
Somebody said I can't make money
And then my daughter said, 'Somebody farted' (Corrr)
I'm saying somebody charted, me
Plus somebody's laughing, me
SLK in the driveway
Bents in the courtyard, Bike in the garden
Beef? Beg your pardon
Better step back, I'm from the darkness
When I ball through there'll be no clear skies
And I don't fear guys
I'll be swinging in the market
I'll be swinging in the market
A lot of man are half-hearted
A lot of man don't bark it
A lot of man do it but they didn't start it
Hummer's on the back road where I parked it
Grime lands mine, I've already marked it
I'm a king when I roll through anywhere
You're just a king when you roll through Barnet

ah corner
I'm not a talker
No loose lips, no propaganda
No informer, no information
Never say too much, in a conversation
When mi come thru', that a danger
Big nine millie, one inna di chamber
Manna like, 'Triggz, don't bring di Luger'
They never see me dark wid a big revolver
Sharp like a razor, cool and deadly
Bigging up mi crew inna di penitentiary
Dark like a who, dem no dark like a me
An' mi come to represent for the SDC
Fly gal she like it when mi in a corner
Manaman drive Mercedes, manna push di Beamer
True dapper Dan, manna real super
Man I'm all about the money, manna a real hustler
Just a likkle heavier
Don't where mi live inna Manchester
High explosives in a di city centre
Moss Side mandem, ah living gangsta
Black hoodie, black gloves
Dat a shadow sniper
Rough rider, see man a Rough Ryder
Pecknarm crew, 'dem a true soldier
Bow E3, protect it to di T
Rat-a-tat-tat from di big Uzi
Hol' tight Skepta, Prez T, Jme
An' Boy a Better know, see this is ah Trigga MC
Hol' tight Giggs, you know see dat ah family
Roll Deep, Flow Dan and mi bredrin Wiley
An' the Midlands mafia, manna come down proper
See all the flyer squad, you knows seh manna member
Baseman and Spyder, mi bredrin Crocka
Anytime we come thru', we get a likkle darker