Devlin, Syer B - Try Step lyrics

I don't know what they call bars
But they don't sound like ours

I don't know what they call bars
But they don't sound like ours

I don't know what he call bars
But they don't sound like ours

I don't know what they call bars

Try step you're full of bull
I'm a bull get a horn through the bicep
Wanna be a matador get splattered more than
Your girlfriends tit's, fried eggs
Tellin me one creepin' and crawlin' around
That I'm Peter Parker with nine legs
Look down on you all from the shard
You ain't got the balls to
Climb up my higher fence
Let's have it right, let's have it right
When me and Syanide are grabbing mics
He don't get close to the dagenham-ites
Who's gonna tell me shit
About braggin' rights
Nobody here I'm aware of, please
Let me know if you hear what
Anyone Mr limb won't take care of
Before they get aired off
Like the radio died

They came back on when me and Jimmy be
Singing the sick patterns
Skills leave your limbs and shit scattered
Ill like I'm on pills - you get battered
Real lyrical skills mic jackers
Still keeping it real - it don't matter
The chill that leave steel bones shatteres
Kneel down in a field you lil slappers
And it takes some dick
You little bait flow bitch
Me and Devlin are sicker than the six
Of the sickest spitters in this
Write me a list - I be wipin' my
Arse with the names that you writ
It's a myth
When you come try twist with the twisted
I'm leavin' MC's in the bit's
You were like zombies what

I don't know what they call bars
But they don't sound like ours
(They don't sound like ours)

I don't know what they call lyrics
But they just sound like gimmicks
(sound like gimmicks)

I don't know what they call rhymes
But they don't sound like mine
(They don't sound like mine)

I don't know what you flows (what?)
I just don't know

Shuttin' everybody down when I come around
Give them all the run around
When I run 'em out
I'm silly with the syllables
Some say I'm lyrical
I don't give a shit no more, I'm just down
The risidual overly-critical way I had a
Nose that there is no miracles
In a land where man must forever talk
Be king of the jungle or dead at dawn
No man's land, no badman but I will put up
At night and attack man
If I have to I'll hide in a trash can
All night 'til I finally catch man
No trash talk
Don't be rash walk and never turn around
Put on a beat, it's a dirty sound
I'm taking it back
Right back to that mad fool

When we came in swinging
Hack from the beginning I've
Been killin' the riddims
And we don't need no bringing
The circles I'm in is full workers grinnin'
Spring in my step, when I step
My circles winnin' and that I murk with a
Purpose that makes observers listen
They're surplus spitters
Whose to this shit?, I can't see anybody here
Plus i'm holding the levels like
Me and the devil
Two fucking rebels that leave
'em unsettled I swear
And now they wanna try wrestle
I leave 'em dishevelled
They ever try meddle up in my affairs
I'm vettel fuck levels I'll never be settled
Try step and get levelled syanide and Devils

I don't know what they call bars
But they don't sound like ours
(They don't sound like ours)

I don't know what they call lyrics
But they just sound like gimmicks
(sound like gimmicks)

I don't know what they call rhymes
But they don't sound like mine
(They don't sound like mine)

I don't know what you flows (what?)
I just don't know

(I just don't know)