作曲 : Che Wolton Grant

作词 : Che Wolton Grant

Ladies and gentlemen

It's time to test the spirit bomb

In the trap with the press (trap, trap)

Whip and flex (whip 'em)

Brick phone in my right hand (brr, brr)

Pyrex in my left (chef, chef)

Chef up the bomb ting (chef, chef, chef)

Spirit Bomb (bomb, bomb)

You niggas on a long ting (long niggas)

But I get it gone (trap)

Walk in the rave, frown on my face

Drink in my hand, hand in my pouch

Man talk greaze, man look left, look right

Look straight to a bang in the mouth

Man talk greaze, man see man in the flesh

Man's saying "please just dead it"

Man talk greaze in the whip, come out the car

Coming like Niko Bellic

Dickhead

I phone up like we want a pizza

A flip blade or a sweetener heater

To touch more skin than Mia Khalifa

Man said "come round the corner", you're joking

Man tryna talk like he's touching us

Man best run when you see man come

Son, you can get a tiger, tiger, tiger

It's a mad ting, AJ from the L-l with the hand ting

Dust man down with the world war scram ting

Girl's tryna free her pum pum on a fan ting

Ten toes up, caught man, he was panting

PRS could've paid for a Phantom

And a home gym in a hillside mansion

My bars make man take action

Said they wanna ban my tunes like Banton

But they can't ban me, I'll ban them

No, they can't tan me, man'll just tan them

Raised in the south just like FT

Now I went and got FT on an anthem

Take man's baby mum to that bando

You want her back? Better give me that ransom

Leg up by the stove when I chef that bomb ting

Spread up the kitty, drip, drip, I'm handsome

Show, show, I dropped the bomb, yeah

Know when I come through, man are gonna lose their spirit

Ain't got that blade? Then man have got the scissors

Chef man, man'll get dead up in a minute

Man a get served up like chicken nuggets with the ketchup

Know that the 'bré ain't kidding

Think that I'm joking 'cause I look young?

On my life, I'll make man swim with the fishes

Wait, let me hit my spliff

One sec, let me sip my drink

Heard some man wanna sink my ship

Man'll get wetted up like kitchen sink

Hide your wife, I'll pimp this chick

Heard 'nuff gyal wanna drink my kids

Hide your chain when you're in these bits

Sick flow from time and I've been ill since

Got a court case that's pending, damn

Got a gold chain, no pendants, fam

Shoutout Nike, seeding the kicks

I'm feeling the kicks like pregnant gyal

Just got a pack sent in from 'Dam

Man do licks in a rented van

Shut down shop, cut down cop

Move that quick, let me count that gwop, what?

In the trap with the press (trap, trap)

Whip and flex (whip 'em)

Brick phone in my right hand (brr, brr)

Pyrex in my left (chef, chef)

Chef up the bomb ting (chef, chef, chef)

Spirit Bomb (bomb, bomb)

You niggas on a long ting (long niggas)

But I get it gone (trap)

Came home with some brand new garms

And my mum asking me how I get money

Man's got the pony fur on my shoe

Now people are moving funny

I can't comprehend, when I touch mic

Every beat that man hits get duppy

I'm a top boy like Sully

Your girl wanna suck on my cock like dummy

Ain't got a tool in my pouch

But I've got two bags and a phone full of digits, fam

Don't get it twisted, fam

Mysterious vibes in the Mystic clan

Got a peng ting in my crib right now

And she chef up the bomb ting, easy, straight

Man's on my own till you see me, mate

Only Ps we chase

Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah

Bare man talking 'bout cheffing and they don't whip

Talk about their nizzy and coke 'cause they clap and dip

Gun slap, I don't wanna look like you, I wanna break bread with the strip

That's why you might catch me and Cads in the cut like slit

And I've got my '08 swag again

Undercover, might spend a few bags on them

If I kill a career, get an ambulance

But don't think you're surviving

Aim for the kill and my man's riding

Can't see dem man cuh they're hiding

Got it on me now in the studio, violent

Deep blue sea, avoiding Trident

Look, know the ropes or get tied up

Badman? Tell him he's not

Tell him he's washed, I was out ducking from the feds

In the rucksack, had a likkle box

**** what it cost, got it for the low like limbo

True say, I know a couple plugs, man are tuned in

Trap line booming

True say all the cats need grooming, trust me

Cuh man were never eating right, had bare lumps in that gravy

Bare lumps in that custard

Think hotdogs without buns, without no mustard

Cuh manaman were grinding

Really out here grinding

Swear I had to put time in

Dem man dere never put time in

Yeah, spirit bomb

I thought the feds weren't on my case

But then I went jail 'cause I read it wrong

Live in the studio, making tunes

But deep in the trap where I'm heading from

Got a good heart, fell in wrong

No throwaway lines till I'm singing songs

I'm a whole brick, you're a scented bong

Yeah, Capo

C-A-P-O, see more than a Z

Could've shot me a fed, that's a war on my head

Paranoid when it bangs, hands over the cells

I've got the cats all safe

Cuh me, I don't deal with the random sales

How you in the trap 24?

When I look at my phone, you're online just bantering girls

They know my ting be proper

Juug house, my trap is proper

10/10, my ting come proper

Brown ones, my bitch look proper

Ring bells, my name is proper

No shorts, my cats come proper

Shoebox, my stack looks proper

Tell man I do this proper (I do this proper)

Brick phone in my right hand (right hand)

Man have got 'nuff cats on my Nokia (durr durr)

Don't move naughty, male with the 40

That ting sounds like a chopper (dududu)

Man know me, can't lack in the rave (nah)

Bro, that's word to the scar on my face (true)

Brick in the whip, man caught man a chain

AJ dealt like bro from the Lane

In the trap with the press (trap, trap)

Whip and flex (whip 'em)

Brick phone in my right hand (brr, brr)

Pyrex in my left (chef, chef)

Chef up the bomb ting (chef, chef, chef)

Spirit Bomb (bomb, bomb)

You niggas on a long ting (long niggas)

But I get it gone (trap)