Chase & Status - Dubplate Original lyrics

Dubplate Original When a veteran steps in the building, salute and respect from the children Then I salute the badman back cause a real n***a recognise realness These MCs can’t back-to-back it I’ve been racking up bodies since Raskit’s Jordan jacket Black tracksuit and a ratchet bu*terfly knife in the baggies Hard knock life, no Annie Stand one night, I’m smashing I ain’t got time for no rally Take all the gyal and dollar the gyal Psst. I’m a Yardie, that’s how I call a gyal Check 1-2 mic and a one tune Man spudded you then spurned you Can’t undo history, I’ve written too much to be written off, young youts We’re some kings drinking ace, that’s pontoon Up Bond street. Bond suits That’s lyrical kung fu Let me bump tunes. And they split like the sun roof The gangsters must approve and they’re waiting for the bus youts Then the ends say I’ve got one (Bop, Bop) Rudeboy, wheel it again cause all them people fi dead The harder them MCs came, the harder them MCs fell Them soundboys can’t two for two it Man’s been stacking up riddims from 7 inch Shabba and Loochie Dress code, Ones and twos it Church’s? No, just do it Earnt this didn’t win through it Purchase new, not newish Kettle on the wrist with the Tetley brewing Italian leather just flew in Might cop a white gold president Putin Rev at the lights, no tell em I’m Lewis But I’ll open your door like “gentlemen do it” Phew! This one’s called hara**ment Line up the caskets I know Will wants the chorus I think Sol wants some adlibs I bet Rich wants the Royalties But Rach wants the gasment To done them f**ing little ba*tards If he’s the best, who’s man then? f**ing hell, I’m Ca**ius Abu Dhabi madness Fookin held the zampers Crack open the champers For GT and them, that’s mandem! Yeh, club full of wa*ksters Man act up, that’s an ambulance Wheelchair bandits, 50 bags for the Barristers Yuck. Sounds fishy innit But f** that sh**, got bigger fish to fillet Then grab 60k for the 60 minutes Drunk all summer, that’s liquid living High off life, no splif need billing Bigger sins here, talk big boy millions Axel Rod tryna get the billions Criminal affiliates, black caecilians Beef in the ends? Better grab some militants Wraps on deck make man so vigilant It’s funny how d**h makes man so innocent Image thing, I ain’t got time for the mumbling I wan’ hundred No suits when I do lunch with pudding and punch With some of these bruddas so sunken Take a picture of them, If they ain’t done sh** When I see the p**y, I will grab the p**y but I ain’t got time for the Trump sh** Some boys just don’t know levels but I ain’t got time to explain it I ain’t got time to explain it Don’t ask me about beef in the basement, I ain’t got time to explain it I’m your favourite’s favourite’s favourite But I ain’t got time to explain it Touch road, man affi murk it Got my other bredrin wan arrange it And his chip won’t free up the shotgun seat but I ain’t got time to be faced it I ain’t got time to explain it I ain’t got time to… mad