Текст пісні
Yeah, yeah
What a waste of space, I'm face to face with lames
I took my place as London's face of rage
Like what the fuck? I'm fucking up these punks
They better lock me up before I cause some fucking trouble
Motherfucker, ain't the first time, better call the doctor, 'cause I'm shooting for the flatline
Yuh, I'm 'bout to blow, it's just about time
Better hope you got your digits up 'cause I got mine
Yeah, yeah, 'cause I got mine
Hella feds up in the place, I'm 'bout to cook me up swine
Yuh, I told that rapper keep an open mind but that was just before I put that bloody 9 between his eyes
Uh, I'm flippin' tables, difference to you and me? You in a fable
I'm in that UAV, I got the payload
Cut you with this energy, something from Halo
Yeah, you 'bout to may me be a menace
It's like I'm schizophrenic, how I'm open to this penance
These voices in my head, they make me be more conscientious
But there's much more to trap metal that acting all pretentious
This shit is factually precious, they practically jealous
It's like I'm on some crack like a crevice, my throat is infectious
Sending shots and making a racket, no tennis, I'm back with a vengeance
I'm posted with the gang, come and get us
I'm switching flows, no diaerasis, yah
What a waste of space, I'm face to face with lames
I took my place as London's face of rage
Like what the fuck? I'm fucking up these punks
They better lock me up before I cause some fucking trouble
Motherfucker ain't the first time, better call the doctor, 'cause I'm shooting for the flatline
Yuh, I'm 'bout to blow, it's just about time
Better hope you got your digits up 'cause I got mine