ROUND 2 K.O

And I bet you done bought a whole lot of them (facts)

Niggas mad at me 'cause I bothered them

'Cause mama never told him she was proud of 'em (on God)

Even niggas like Giggs really hate your shit

He a real OG, there's a lot of 'em

You dick ride niggas and you fine with it

You got a lil' cosign and you proud of it

And you'll do anythin' just to get a lil' OVO chain, even swallow it (innit)

I hold big smokers ready to chief with 'em

Better call the po and bring the police with 'em

Bring enough heat to cook up a beef with him

Wet a nigga up and bringin' a beach with him

Bullet get stuck, he feelin' it deep in him

Pussy ass nigga, I'm makin' a yeast with him

A wagyu steak, I cut up a piece with him

Floss on a nigga and pickin' up my teeth with him

Cough on a nigga and make a disease hit him

Bark on a nigga, ain't takin' no leash with him

Lock a nigga out, I'm leavin' his teeth with him

Lock a nigga down and bury the keys with him

Snake ass niggas that really don't need venom

I'm skinnin' 'em alive and makin' a feast with 'em

Nigga need help, we bringin' the streets with them (what?)

Give a nigga hell, I'm bringin' a priest with 'em

I'ma send them to hell and I bet the devil'll tell him

That I'm a demon who broke a piece of that Heaven and fell

And bitch, I'm a predicate felon

I put a shell in your melanin

And everything I ever said up on a record, I meant it

How 'bout we talk about how many fuckin' records you sellin'

'Cause even back up in your country, they don't check up and listen

You only sold a couple thousand, ain't no battin' a seven

They gonna sell it at the counter at the 7-Eleven

And when I'm finished with you, I bet they would never forget it

There ain't a single motherfucker who can stab at this weapon

I hate your accent and everythin' you said in the record

I need subtitles to get it, I'm checkin' the spellin'

I promise you that Drizzy only one that would ever mention you bein' a legend

Nobody would agree when he said it

I promise you it's gonna haunt you when you sleep in your bed

And I promise you that when it's over, I'ma leave an impression of y'all

I hope you know the pressure's on when I drop this shit 'cause you really on the clock, boy (what?)

I'ma write a perspective song from a UK nigga who think he a top boy

Since you wanna talk about influence, let's talk about the female clothes you rock, boy (on God)

I seen you in an interview dressed like a bitch, I guess you really a top boy (sheesh)

I catch him outside in the Birkens store, the Victoria Secret shop, boy (okay)

Take all your shit, then give it to my bitch, she'll love that drip you got, boy (goddamn)

Put the UK/US shit to the side, this is me against you, lil' pop boy

Clean up on aisle six, I done wiped this bitch, somebody come bring me a mop, boy

I done turned your stuff to a crime scene

Why the fuck a nigga thinkin' he could try me?

How you do your nigga Wiley dirty, then turn your back on the UK grime scene? (On God)

You a snake ass ho, you slimy

You irrelevant, bitch, you behind me (behind me)

I don't even understand how you still got fans

I ain't heard your name since the '90s

I'm a hybrid nigga with a high beam

Turn the UK nigga to a lime bean

This the round two K.O, you ain't gettin' up

Better call the ER to revive him

After this, I bet you wanna fight me

That's the reason why niggas don't like me

Thought you was that nigga when you talk your shit

Now you sittin' back wonderin', "Why me?"