Skepta, CHIP, Young Adz — Mic Check

Слушать Skepta, CHIP, Young Adz — Mic Check

Текст Skepta, CHIP, Young Adz — Mic Check

Mi-Mic check, one two
Gyal wanna check man, not check you
Check, check, wanna check man, not you
You, you, you, you
Wanna check man, not you
You, you, you, you… you

Don’t-don’t-don’t take it
Personal
Don’t take it, no
Don’t-don’t take it, no
Don’t-don’t take it
Personal
Don’t take it no
Keep on loving on

Mic check, mic check
She’s holding my hood on cam, that’s mic check
If she got JuJu ‘gina I’m whipped
Might sex like a demon child but I’m blessed
North side nigga got miles in my ends
Ain’t no good girl in a bad circle of friends
Shorty wanna ride, made her hip-hop again
Might pop in the chart but I’m grime in the bed

Yeah, mic check, it’s A
Go to The Shard for our first date
Hit the bando door with a barricade
And the crack so good, need a accolade
Uh, mic check, 29
Wreck that bitch face like Ellen Price
She just wanna cuddle when it’s beddy time
But I told her, «Babe, right now it’s not teddy time»

Uh, mic check, it’s S
Gave her the sex, she said she feel it in her chest
Can you handle the fame? You know you’re fucking with a star
When you’re fucking with me, they talk about you in the press
Took a little time just to get it together, better late then never
Matching Alyx hoodies for the rainy weather
Lost count how many times I broke your heart
I’m tryna make it better, you know

Don’t-don’t-don’t take it
Personal
Don’t take it, no
Keep on loving
Don’t-don’t take it
Personal
Don’t take it, no
Keep on loving

I’ve been waiting just like seven days so I can taste it (Taste it)
And she asking, «Can you fill me in to Craig David?» (David)
I was surprised she sucked me so good with that braces
And I told her, «I’m a monster, baby, can you face it?»

Ayy, she cut me off, now we talk again
That pussy wet, it pours, it rains
Seattle Gold my collection of rose
But I’ll bring you flowers in the pouring rain
Sweet tooth gyally wanna chop this boy
In her mouth she say it’s sweet like chocolate boy
Celibate boy, chop this boy
Please don’t turn me on

Tell the DJ rewind
In the club doing the Champagne dance
Gold chain and the gold card won’t decline
Yeah we’re rich, rich, rich, had to say it three times
Uh, all these runway pieces, ain’t enough time for me to wear the shit
Yeah, we’re getting to the bag
Getting money forever
Tryna find a good girl I can share it with, you know

Don’t-don’t-don’t take it
Personal
Don’t take it, no
Keep on loving
Don’t-don’t take it
Personal
Don’t take it, no
Keep on loving

Had to dash, you know we crashed
I’m moving forward
Realized you’re not the guy, I’m over you, yeah
No more titles, not entitled
Moving forward
Had to dash, you know we crashed
I’m over you