Dizzee Rascal - Ghost lyrics
[Dizzee Rascal - Ghost lyrics]
Close, close, wanna get close on the coast
Ghost, ghost don’t pose and I don’t post
Close, close, wanna get close on the coast
Ghost, ghost
Pickin' me a winner
Picky hair an’ I was a little bit thinner
3310 with a customised ringer
I was tryna holla at Lavinia
But she weren’t ina
Cos I was a sinner, thought I was a minger
Never had a Bimmer
Rollin’ through the ends on a stolen aprillia
Waiting for the Dominos guy to
Deliver for a free dinner
Thought I knew it all I was just a beginner
Never was a singer i was on pirate radio way
Before I heard Mike Skinner
Wagwan killer, yeah, that’s my nigga
Talk about race but it's just way bigger
I ain't gonna waste no time on Twitter
Done with the jibba, cry me a river
Say it to my face or say it to my trigger
You go figure, or reconsider, Indian giver
Lookin’ for a chocolate girl with
A hint of vanilla
And she can bring a Indian with her
I just want a bosom for a pillow
An’ I got a little bit o skrilla
We can get a boat and we can get a villa
Or we can be on South
Beach ruining your liver
All killer, no filler
I don’t wanna brag or boast
I don’t cater and I don’t host
When they ask what I do I say I do the most
Then I get ghost
On the coast like I am supposed
Don’t pose and I do not post
And that’s why these girls wanna play me
Close, close, wanna get close on the coast
Ghost, ghost don’t pose and I don’t post
Close, close, wanna get close on the coast
Ghost, ghost
They ain't put food on my table
I rock the cradle
Big dirty stinkin’ logo I rock the label
I’ve been doin’ this since cable
I was on the graveyard shift in the studio
Only popped out for a salt beef bagel
I was on the roads when it was unstable
I’m not an angel
Beef had more than a plate full
But, I ain’t hateful, born in the 80s
Year of the 8 ball
Come back 18, could've been a facial
Would've been painful
Raised in the 90s, it was still racial
Bloody disgraceful
Why are these yutes so bloody ungrateful
Talk about grime like I ain’t a staple
I was on the mic when you was in play-school
Stabbed six times yo it
Could have been fateful
Would have been 6 foot deep
On my bredrin’s T-shirt lookin’ distasteful
Would have been wasteful
Never would have seen the Caribbean in April
Shackin’ up with Rachel
Givin’ her a face-full
Never would have been seven figures deep
Walkin’ down the street with a
Gorgeous freak in a chief
Screamin’ "come out the way fool"
I don’t wanna brag or boast
I don’t cater and I don’t host
When they ask what I do I say I do the most
Then I get ghost
On the coast like I am supposed
Don’t pose and I do not post
And that’s why these girls wanna play me
Close, close, wanna get close on the coast
Ghost, ghost don’t pose and I don’t post
Close, close, wanna get close on the coast
Ghost, ghost
Ghost, ghost don’t pose and I don’t post
Close, close, wanna get close on the coast
Ghost, ghost
Pickin' me a winner
Picky hair an’ I was a little bit thinner
3310 with a customised ringer
I was tryna holla at Lavinia
But she weren’t ina
Cos I was a sinner, thought I was a minger
Never had a Bimmer
Rollin’ through the ends on a stolen aprillia
Waiting for the Dominos guy to
Deliver for a free dinner
Thought I knew it all I was just a beginner
Never was a singer i was on pirate radio way
Before I heard Mike Skinner
Wagwan killer, yeah, that’s my nigga
Talk about race but it's just way bigger
I ain't gonna waste no time on Twitter
Done with the jibba, cry me a river
Say it to my face or say it to my trigger
You go figure, or reconsider, Indian giver
Lookin’ for a chocolate girl with
A hint of vanilla
And she can bring a Indian with her
I just want a bosom for a pillow
An’ I got a little bit o skrilla
We can get a boat and we can get a villa
Or we can be on South
Beach ruining your liver
All killer, no filler
I don’t wanna brag or boast
I don’t cater and I don’t host
When they ask what I do I say I do the most
Then I get ghost
On the coast like I am supposed
Don’t pose and I do not post
And that’s why these girls wanna play me
Close, close, wanna get close on the coast
Ghost, ghost don’t pose and I don’t post
Close, close, wanna get close on the coast
Ghost, ghost
They ain't put food on my table
I rock the cradle
Big dirty stinkin’ logo I rock the label
I’ve been doin’ this since cable
I was on the graveyard shift in the studio
Only popped out for a salt beef bagel
I was on the roads when it was unstable
I’m not an angel
Beef had more than a plate full
But, I ain’t hateful, born in the 80s
Year of the 8 ball
Come back 18, could've been a facial
Would've been painful
Raised in the 90s, it was still racial
Bloody disgraceful
Why are these yutes so bloody ungrateful
Talk about grime like I ain’t a staple
I was on the mic when you was in play-school
Stabbed six times yo it
Could have been fateful
Would have been 6 foot deep
On my bredrin’s T-shirt lookin’ distasteful
Would have been wasteful
Never would have seen the Caribbean in April
Shackin’ up with Rachel
Givin’ her a face-full
Never would have been seven figures deep
Walkin’ down the street with a
Gorgeous freak in a chief
Screamin’ "come out the way fool"
I don’t wanna brag or boast
I don’t cater and I don’t host
When they ask what I do I say I do the most
Then I get ghost
On the coast like I am supposed
Don’t pose and I do not post
And that’s why these girls wanna play me
Close, close, wanna get close on the coast
Ghost, ghost don’t pose and I don’t post
Close, close, wanna get close on the coast
Ghost, ghost