Skepta - Intro Lyrics
Skepta - Intro Lyrics
Official
Yeah
Heard the devil a liar, pull up in Prada (skrrt)
Spliff in my mouth, dreads on my head, live like a Rasta (bumba')
Stick in my hand, bang on the drum, live like a rockstar (pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pow)
At the traffic light tryna see which car go faster (skrrt)
I got the Wraith, I do not whip an Impala, oh (no)
I make a mil', phone, SIM and a charger
Stupid boy, go sit in the corner
Lower your tone, have some manners when you're speaking to the father
My YG split your wig like a barber
One phone call, then you're dead by mañana
Insomnia 2, dick in her throat, it's 7 AM (oh Gard)
I guess she got insomnia too
Don't need a pot, whip an M in the booth
If I'm in the stu' with Skeppy and A
There could be a, in the room (boaw)
Sippin' this Wray', 'cause A buss case
My niggas stick to the truth
I'm in the Moncler store
Can I get the jacket with the fur please?
If I am sittin' in jail, then I am tellin' them load up the servery
Strap on me, fashion week in my new Burberry
Givenchy, got racks on me
And I came up from the f*ckin' dirt
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
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Yeah
Heard the devil a liar, pull up in Prada (skrrt)
Spliff in my mouth, dreads on my head, live like a Rasta (bumba')
Stick in my hand, bang on the drum, live like a rockstar (pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pow)
At the traffic light tryna see which car go faster (skrrt)
I got the Wraith, I do not whip an Impala, oh (no)
I make a mil', phone, SIM and a charger
Stupid boy, go sit in the corner
Lower your tone, have some manners when you're speaking to the father
My YG split your wig like a barber
One phone call, then you're dead by mañana
Insomnia 2, dick in her throat, it's 7 AM (oh Gard)
I guess she got insomnia too
Don't need a pot, whip an M in the booth
If I'm in the stu' with Skeppy and A
There could be a, in the room (boaw)
Sippin' this Wray', 'cause A buss case
My niggas stick to the truth
I'm in the Moncler store
Can I get the jacket with the fur please?
If I am sittin' in jail, then I am tellin' them load up the servery
Strap on me, fashion week in my new Burberry
Givenchy, got racks on me
And I came up from the f*ckin' dirt
Heard the devil a liar, pull up in Prada (skrrt)
Spliff in my mouth, dreads on my head, live like a Rasta (bumba')
Stick in my hand, bang on the drum, live like a rockstar (pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pow)
At the traffic light tryna see which car go faster (skrrt)
I got the Wraith, I do not whip an Impala, oh (no)
I make a mil', phone, SIM and a charger
Stupid boy, go sit in the corner
Lower your tone, have some manners when you're speaking to the father
My YG split your wig like a barber
One phone call, then you're dead by mañana
Insomnia 2, dick in her throat, it's 7 AM (oh Gard)
I guess she got insomnia too
Don't need a pot, whip an M in the booth
If I'm in the stu' with Skeppy and A
There could be a, in the room (boaw)
Sippin' this Wray', 'cause A buss case
My niggas stick to the truth
I'm in the Moncler store
Can I get the jacket with the fur please?
If I am sittin' in jail, then I am tellin' them load up the servery
Strap on me, fashion week in my new Burberry
Givenchy, got racks on me
And I came up from the f*ckin' dirt
Writer: Adam Williams, Andrew O'Brien, Anton Schmidt, Jacier Pearson, Jahmaal Noel Fyffe, Joseph Junior Adenuga
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave
Performed By: Skepta
Featuring: Chip, Young Adz
Length: 1:10
Written by: Adam Williams, Andrew O'Brien, Anton Schmidt, Jacier Pearson, Jahmaal Noel Fyffe, Joseph Junior Adenuga