Jme, Tempa T, Wiley, Cookie - R U Dumb? lyrics

Ayo, Skepta, wamp fi dem bwoy dere?
Who yah ah talk to bwoy?
Go suck out yuh momma, bumbahole
And your farda, batty washed up
Wah yuh want more?
Yo my yout go fi big 9 ova deh suh
Cyaan come in like dem man
Them man they wan' man start spray
'Ear dat, 'ear dat, 'ear dat

You think you're a badman to the fullest
'Cause you got a couple of shotbun gullets?
Don't run it up and make me get dark
'Cause I will chief you up in the par cark
Tell your girlfriend to leave me alone
Stop ringing my phobile moan
Serious, it's getting on top
Jeez, can't even shop to the bops
I'm slim but I ain't got anorexia
I spit like I've got dyslexia
You don't want to make me get vex
Or you'll find out about my Tourette's
Boy Better Know
Don't mess with Skepta, my bro
My family, Joseph Junior
My name's Jamie Adenug- shh hut yuh muh
Derkhead, wasteman, poomplex
I don't know what you're thinking
But it's not a
Me-and you-spitting-in-the-same-room flex
When I enter, you exit, cah
You said shit 'bout me and Skepta
See, now shit can't be perfect, cah
You let the situation get complex
Shh hut yuh muh derkhead, wasteman, poomplex
I don't know what you're thinking
But it's not a
Me-and you-spitting-in-the-same-room flex
When I enter, you exit, cah
You said shit 'bout me and Skepta
See, now shit can't be perfect, cah
You let the situation get complex

Yo, yo, well everything seems clearer
Seems like Eskiboy is the key bearer
You on my level? No you
Ain't getting any closer
Than last time I checked
You're getting nearer, blud
I can't hear ya, your best friends
Can't compare ya, when I'm 'ere
Come out the area
How dare ya, ya getting bright
Might get a couple shots in
Your new Porsche Carrera
Yep, yep, yep, I eat lamb curry and roti
I'm a war MC, they can all quote me
And I might punch you in the boaty
When you get up, everything seems floaty
I guess you wanna find me but I move low key
In your house with no key
Climb through the window
You know me, my name's Wiley
Yeah I'm that brere with a goatie
You and your boys came round and
Thought you could fold me
I'm from a city, not Holby
Who's this chavvy looking brere? He
Looks like Jan Mølby
It sounds like he's talking in Dolby
Telling me he's gonna leave my t-shirt holey
Wasteman, he can't test Wiley Coyote
If it's the last thing I'll do I'll revenge
Anybody that tries to stop me or hold me

It's the downtown boy
Drop boys to the floor then I stamp down boys
Boys get boyed, oh boy
I'm not a boy, I make big boys look smaller
Downtown baller, clamp down boys
Drop boys to the floor then I stamp down boys
Boys get boyed, oh boy
I'm not a boy, I make big boys, look
I'm in and around the bit's
See me around the strip
They can never hold Cooks down
I'm bound to flip
I know you're bound to slip, walking around
The hood with no gun
It's obvious you ain't down for it
I know I'm down for it
You can catch me down town
With the goonies from 'round town
We hold it down
Used to be so many guys on the
Road but we own it now
I ain't saying I'm the realest
But I've been around some realness
Some guys hate my bars 'cause they
Can't relate to the real shit
They don't know about bare
Knuckle fist fights
Knocking out guys on a quick hype
Trying to make a little P
Pan full of drugs and a flick knife
Yeah I'm quite pretty but ask
About Cooks in the hood
You'll be told he's a sick guy

Pricks like you just get a beating
Nike Air Dunks, I'm there stamping
You can't move or stand up, I'm beating
Get left on the floor, you're wheezing
My boys round the corner, creeping
Cock back and aim and, blasting
Headshots are raining, bleeding
You can’t move or stand up, you’re screaming
And I won’t be stopped be that you’re teasing
Draw for the mash, man’ll start breezing
Ducking out fast, they’re not screaming
Went into the woods start the skeezing
When he sees me not bleeding
Four five, pop that, chest squeezing
You wonder how we'll pay your easing
Lacking for the key 'cause I'm not starting
Dash you in the back of the flats do it!
Bang him! He's on the floor
No movement, he's on the floor