'Cause man ain't come for him, no way
Man ain't come, oh
'Cause man ain't bumping him, no way
(Oh yeah)
'Cause man ain't bumping him, or you
Man ain't bumping him, ain't fucking you know? (No idea what I'm saying)
No one ain't listening to you
So I say
'Cause man ain't bumping him, or you
Man ain't bumping him either, no
Man ain't come for him
Man ain't come to grin neither
Man ain't come for them geezers, ease up
Man ain't jumping in neither
Man just jumping in, eager beavers
Shit ain't sunken in neither
Man just old school from Gloucester Grove
When man had comfortable Fila
Back when Ashlyn didn't even live there
It was Josh and Makeda
Back when gangsters weren't even shooting
Man took chunks with that cleaver
Back on Super D, stone love days
Yeah, Jam Rock Sound, Metro Media
Back in the day when I was broke
I was on Bow Road and looking out for eaters
Back in the day before I had seven figures
Our brothers were begging me for features
Back in the day before bloggers and tweeters
Before they knew I was a genius
They were the days when I was excluded from school
For fucking with my teachers
I was so damn facetious
I would leave 'em with fevers
Seizures, bunch of holes in my sneakers
Back in the day before I had that brand new Range Rover
Looking devious, previous
I was moving mischievous
None of my girlfriends were divas
Making moves was the easiest
Please don't make me get deeper
I was linking Kamika
Ice rink and that creeper
Had 'em dropping in Caesars
Jesus, bunch of unstable geezers
Bunch of peelers and dealers
Demons, they were holding them heaters
We were owning them speakers
Man came back with that classic crack shit
Man came back with that Raskit
Rolled up with the Rottweilers
And came back with Bull Mastiffs
Quickly grab them six Brownings
Women grab me two taxis
There's a negative and a plus side
Hollow's back with new batteries
Hold up, coming back for you fassies
Better run home
Could I prop the new Lassie?
Them two straps are too massive
Jumped out, pap pap pap, with two maccies
Quick, jump back in front seat and back seat
Pricks get put Ribena and Capri
Don't gas me
I was in the back streets, couldn't catch me
Oh a jack spree
They looking at me like, why you wanna rap me?
That's crappy, I was actually not flashy
They couldn't hack me
All black in my Nike Air trackie
And I went all out on a fassie
And I didn't make beats on a lappy
What you know about Rex and Strappy? Exactly
Had a yacht in Hackney
Big batty, a bit scatty
But I was happy 'cause she cooked saltfish and ackee
She didn't clap me
So I've gotta give thanks to Selassie
Shy FX and UK Apache
The speaker blowing, better keep it going
Mention Hollowman when your speaker flowing
Get that mozzarella cheese, get the pizza going
I seen your gully side, now your weak is showing
My **** Dizzee Ras, they say he's a poet
They hear he drop a track, **** tippy-toeing
Now come around a man with your pissy poems
I got bitches on my dick and their lippy showing

Writer(s): Dylan Mills, Nathaniel Thompson, Teddy Sambas, Rasi Wellington-Forbes & Koffi-Manou Kouassi.