Tom: F major•
Verse 1
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Cm
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It's show-
it's- it's showtime
I don't need a sponsor or a co- sign
I ain't got to say my
name, you know mine
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B
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I don't borrow bars, I got my own lines and my
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own rhymes but you can hold mine
But you ain't going to act like I'm an
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old timer in decline since '09
You ain't going to treat
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saying you miss the old grime
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1999, you didn't know grime,
I was making grime and getting no shine
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Everybody said they stand on business,
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till they run their mouth and get a clothes line
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Budgets getting cut, labels shutting down
Am
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all the black stuff like the coal mines
And that's a cold line for
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Am
you slow minds
Verse 2
Am
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Either you're with me or against me
Either you love me or resent me
Ab
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Is it a Rolls, is it a Bentley?
Why am I shallow and so empty?
I don't need the P, I got plenty
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But if you give me the P, it might tempt me
You can't make this up, this ain't Fenty
Cm
You can't make this up , this
ain't make believe
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I don't over do it, I just over
achieve and you better believe
Cm
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I took UK music overseas in '03
Cm
Oh please, it ain't complex
I don't need Complex to
I'm one, two, three, four,
five and six
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Better wash your mouth and dirty lips
Cm
I'm the god- damn reason you can even sit
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All gassed up like that, talking shit
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Am
Cm
And you could have quit or at least admit
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Gb
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I was out here working, doing bits
Cm
Had a hold of the UK throwing fits
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I got MOBOs, Ivor Mercury and a BRIT
Cb
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Got a BET, and that ain't even it
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Got a bunch of plaques
and a bunch of hits
Verse 3
And I put us on main stage
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We ain't even on the same page
We ain't the same age
I don't really want to engage
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Or do they really want
to see me get enraged?
Why you care so much
what the States think?
I only care what the estates think
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I was gripping on ends with bait licks
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And ends ain't ever
been the same since
And the game stinks 'cause you get
excited about mediocre stuff
Cb
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Maybe it's because you
ain't old enough
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Maybe you should listen
to some older stuff
Maybe I'm just getting
old and over stuff
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Cb
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Plus- plus- plus I'm old enough
To remember,
Cm
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radio picked them man there over us
Not trying to blow my own trumpet
C
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Not one bit,
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I'd rather beat my own drum kit
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That's the fun bit, plus I made the beat
Cm
I don't run my mouth, I just run shit
I ain't losing sleep over dumb shit
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Or I deal with pricks
who never done shit
I'm so far ahead before they even started,
Verse 4
Let's face the facts
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Let's forget the stats
Let's forget the plaques
Cm
Let's forget the tape packs with Wiley Kat,
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Raskit, back to back
Cm
If I ain't the Godfather, I must be God
There's nothing wrong with that
If you say I'm not,
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then you can keep your God
What kind of God is that?
Cm
You can't polish crap,
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but you can thank God for putting us on the map
And that's big chat
Cm
Call it blasphemy but don't call it cap
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Done a lot for grime, I done a lot for rap
Cm
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I'm a happy chap, not a fanny flap
I'll spark 'em out before I hold a slap
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C
Cm
Back to Wiley Kat, I take off my hat
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Gb
From the council flats
When you best the scene,
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you can't cancel that
Ab
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But when you over- chat, they over react
Ab
Now let me shut my trap
Yeah, right
C
My bars are hard and they're tight
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I just don't see the hype
I'm like Stevie Wonder
trying to ride a bike
I'm like Stevie Wonder trying
to fly a kite on a cloudy night
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No, I'm really like black dynamite,
playing Iron Mic
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We're the same blood type,
Outro 1
Now, get it right
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Ab
Gb
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C
Ab
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Ab
C
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Cb
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