Lirik Lagu The Great British Bar Off - Ed Sheeran ft Devlin

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Lirik Lagu The Great British Bar Off - Ed Sheeran ft Devlin

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Ed Sheeran ft Devlin - The Great British Bar Off

It's Dirty Devils and Edward ScissorsLike an equation, it figuresWe're off the scale, but not sheddin' our skins like lizardsToo cold when we walk through the blizzardWith no hat, coat, or gloves for our digitsIt's been a long, long road, no fibbin'Goes so quick though, excuse meLike a sick note, but it don't get biggerI'm the realest, I'm a killer with the lyricsJust look back at SBTV, and you'll seeTakin' the scene to where it hadn't beenMy brother Jamal, he can rest in peaceJust knowin' you helped man get where they're goin'All makes sense in the mind of a poetI owe it to keep on growin'Like a life of the bars don't ceaseI'll give an arm and a legOne deep, while I'm draggin' this beat to a depthI'm Mariana TrenchAnd thinkin', holdin' my breath, until I feel 3-2 like WretchUntil my last bastard breathI'ma cut man down on a barberous flexWho the fuck wanna spar with a vet?I'm Alexander the Great when I'm marchin' on armies againI got a spring in my stepSlinky when it goes down, like Monica LewinskyI'll be right here in the thick, they can diss meBut they'll get flung like a frisbeeIf what you chattin' is wetMiss me, bitch, pleaseErich von Däniken couldn't even question my historyBeen spittin' like I was an M16You might wanna run and take cover when I'm lettin' go anotherSend a letter to your ma, that's word to your motherToo Stella, I'm a starWhen at least in the gutterYo, DagnarmI'm still the same twisted fuckerTo run for the game, then rep for the boroughAnd there ain't no name that can make me shudderWoke by a clock, and I wouldn't be alarmedNahSheero, how about you hit 'em with a bar?
'Bout time, you've been spittin' for a minute and a halfGotta stretch my legs, I'm just sittin' on the chartsPeople may just think I just sing with guitarI'm at home with a star like I'm livin' in the pastWritin' these lyrics while I'm sippin' on a glass of the darkest Guinness with an Irish heartThree passports, one of them red, two of them blueLived Finsbury, and Stock Newington too'Bout to witness the rise of the young gunWho's been listenin' to Devz when the channel was youWas Tales From The Crypt on my screen'Til we met, kickstarted a dreamIt was bud, sweat, and beers, watchtower then appearedNow it's back to back bars on a beat, I've missed thisJust a spitter from IpswitchBack on OT businessOn time, I'm not overly tryin'But on tracks like this, a bit of soul is requiredBeen too long, but I been stokin' the firesStill comin' with heat, like I'm holdin' an ironI remember when I was just told to be quietNow I'm pretty sure no one's colder than I am'Cept maybe DevsI take big strides, fuck baby stepsI can't do a thing, they won't hate me lessThese lungs make money, so I save my breathPut me in the ring, I can take the bestGloves on, gloves offDon't blink, did he win? He must ofFly on around the world, but it used to be a bus stopCame in the booth, 'cause I had to blow the dust offNow what's what?
The flow's too skippy, no hopscotchYou know I hot-stepThrough hell and burn my own socks offMake it bang like I'm tryna get my rocks offThe pretty girl's ugliest friend couldn't cock blockGlock-load, I give 'em both barrels like lockstockNow it's on topThe star on the Christmas tree when me and Ed Sheeran rip this beat
And like Kendrick Lamar, this dick ain't freeI'm a difficult man with a sky-high festival feeHad to make it happen for myself to believeOpen the door for the new generation, but they don't see who we help them to beMe and Devlin showed you what yourself could achieveFifteen years, and we're still hereStill comin' raggo, and we're still weirdWhen Jamal passed, cried real tearsWithout that man, I wouldn't be hereNow my first week numbers, they still fear
Just real-life shit, no films hereAin't gonna see Stephen Spiel' hereWe took it from nothing to something, who's leavin' us killed here?No one or nothingI know that they're bluffin'Make buildings shake like an 8.8 earthquakeSo you might wanna hold onto somethingTell 'em all the general's comin'Chat on the rooftopTwo killers on a tune, what?All these other men are too softDon't remind me of Dylan or MarleyBut regardless, they're two Bob
Was a young gun, but we're still on, Lewi WhiteWhen it's so long, guess I'm doin' somethin' alrightFuck a TomTom, drop a pin and get bowled overSalty lyrics, with a chip on my shoulderAnyone that hates me will get run overCan't remember when I was soberDrink to warm the heart when days are colderTry to drown the pain inside I'm holdin'People I don't love, that do the most, andWhy you actin' like you're fuckin' know me?You weren't there when I played empty shows, andWonderin' when the songs were gonna blow, butWe kept marchin' on, 'cause we are soldiersAlways been the hardest and the coldestUsed to sleep on Jimmy Devlin's sofaNow he looks at you, like bro, I told ya
Why, because we're Ryders like WinonaType of rhymes to find inside my folderMight incite the minds, and break the mold, I'mOut of sight, I stand alone, a lonerMr Grey, but here with no DakotaFlip the pain and rip the game, I told yaWay back when I was the coldest youngerNowadays, call me the coldest older
It's criminal howPeople just expect me to give it all outSingin' or rappin', I'm killin' em, wow'Cause I got bars like criminal nowThink 'cause I got kids, I'm simmerin' down?Onslaught of records, I'm bringin' 'em outI heard all the subliminalsBut the men are minimal, don't make me laugh out loudYo, bro, calm down
It's criminal whenI don't hear no new original menThink that I sound the same with contentThink you must not know Jim at all thenWhat'd you want, a song written, a rap tune, a grime bar?Versatility with a penFuck, I'm all like MilwallI'm here in a lion's den, and I'm hungry again
I represent for the gingersGot fire on my head, and it spits outSit down, and then fuck your column in inchesFive stars, even if the critics don't give thisEleven out of ten on my worst daysBut they didn't believe it in the first placeCheck what the flowers on the hearse sayR.I.P to your worst rhymeMy rise is a curse to remind youI'm hereComin' for the best ain't a good ideaIt's only sickness and god is all I fearAll this money couldn't dry those tearsWhen real life happens, it's irreversibleOutside a career, when it's personalWhen the outcome of life is worse than you fearNothing can fix thatStill each year, we're comin' fresher than Tic-TacsSomehow it fits when the genres are mismatchPeople lookin' in, like I'm livin' in a fishtankYou' got opinions, you know where to stick that
Go fill a tortilla with crapKeep comin' with your shit rapsYou man are get bitch-slapped, by some bitch that I bitch-slapped when I was high on a spliffAnd a six pack, and a bitch backWhen I did not give a fuckWhen me and Ed went back to back on these tracksWhen we walked 'round Dagenham, drunk2010, startin' with Example's tourNow we're 64, then 64 moreBond that won't break, harder than it's ever beenLet 'em reminisce, Ed and Devlin