KNOTS Video (MV)

Listen, right now the boydem are trying to stop us from spitting
But we're not doing nothing wrong, so we're gonna spit
It's Skepta's ting, big up Skepta, the album's out, you get me
Go buy that, family tunes, Frisco's in the building you get me
Every time I open my mouth blud
I say a lyric and another MC gets buried
Well, six feet under
Leave a hole in the jumper when the big skeng rings out like a private number (ring ring)
Talk to the answer machine
Yo, Frisc, pass the machine
I just wanna do my part for the scene
I'm a big man but they wanna see me act like I'm 15
Nah fam its a big man ting
Please stop watching the whip man's in
I don't wanna be no funky ass DJ
But man have got me in a weak man ting
They wanna run it up
But like Armour said, "It's nothing, leave them"
Bare skeng talk, I can't believe them
Red and white R6, I'll leave them
I can get busy with a kick and a bass
I can get busy with a snare and a kick
One of them pricks try chat in my face
I spit slugs that will done a mans dance make you feel like you just got (face)
Now watch me get dark on the riddim and bass, them man are sweet like cinnamon taste
I come through like 'what is it on'?
Skeps, who's my man? What is he on?
I ain't come here to try merk anybody
But forget the hype if it's on then it's on
I'll dunna mans dance then I'm gone then I'm gone
Skeng daddy bars when I'm on when I'm on
I just wanna bill a lickle vibe for the gyaldem
Hotel pop off the thong, then it's on
With a likkle bit of high grade; Dom Perignon
Champagne, Hennessy, not very long
How can you be a king when you roll through anywhere?
Wiley you don't roll through anywhere
I go anywhere fam I'm never scared
You said you rep E3 but you're never there
So let me merk this guy
It's all in your name fam I don't need to lie
I'll take away the W, I'll take away the Y
Fix up the other letters, all you do is just lie
Chat shit, talking like Barnet's a joke
Got some Barnet guys moving keys of coke
Got some n****s on Dollis Valley that ain't scared to poke
Running riot outside the Hadley Oaks, madness
Wiley you need to chill
Anyone I meet if I keep it real
And god knows, if I ever made a mil
I'd be still doing shows in the hood for a bill
Yo, check one, check two
Wanna rob me? Hold tight you
Open the booth, whack man up
Go home, play Xbox, drink Typhoo
Bare wasteman wanna diss my tune
Same wasteman wanna live in my shoes
See me spitting bare deep bars on YouTube, now they wanna try too
Diss me, but you don't know me though
Heard my bars on the Roll Deep show
Now I'm so much better like Snipe Keedo
You're a jackass just like Steve-O
Wanna know about me? Here we go
Half Yoruba, half Igbo
I would ask you to pay attention, but you ain't got no P though
I'm going to damage your ego
Gonna run down BMX like Deebo
Run up in your house, punch in the face
When I get started I won't stop
I cleaned up with a broom and a mop
Now I've got IBS on my intestines feeling like it's tied in a knot
Fam, it must be all the champagne
I'm a dan like Mark Anzaine
Heavyweight champion so you know I had to get Frank Warren on my album campaign
A lot of money's exchanging accounts
Stupid amounts
All your cheques are like a basketball
They bounce
You man are aired like Michael Jordan
Better still, you man are like Rodman
Big shout to my n****s in Tottenham
That love me like they love Game in Compton
You wanna look in my bowl? Fine
You're the reason I wrote this rhyme
Yo man are baders, man are badman
Man, I ain't seen a 5 pound note in time
Yo, you can't diss a friend of mine
Trust me, you don't wanna cross this line
Don't think they can stand in the background of the video
Ad-libbing next man's rhymes, slam
Do you think I'm dumb? Tried to boy me, nah that can't run
Yo, you're lucky
The old JME would bun out your chest, like Jamaican rum
'Cause you got your name in your Nike Air Dunks
'Cause you got your name in your Air Force Ones
You could have your name in your Reebok pumps
Don't think you could ever diss man once
Yo, go home, look in the mirror
Realise no one's scared
You tried to diss me, no one cared
When you came radio, no one teared
You're not hench, you're not bad
You just screw up your face all weird
Tryna get hype off me, aired
Tryna get hype off me, aired
You jumped out the whip, no one ran
Nobody cares what you got in your hand
Nobody cares what you got in your jeans
I'll slap you so hard, you'll crack your phone screen
Yo, don't bring war to the game
Don't tell me about draw full of tings
Right about now, your heads so big, you get charged more for your trim
Boy better know