Whisky And Spice

(Oh shit)

This is rough, it is not enough
There is no pasta without grass
There is no cake without a plate
Deals are down the drain

Velociraptor, fast and fit
I'm on your poster
And in your postcard, impostor apostle
The peta, the peto, is a petal

You can put duck pate
The filling, I get it
Stop
Your girl says I'm not that good

That I'm a fool
I'm freaking out
A blanket without a mantra from the heap
How many more times do I have to explain the reason why I sing?

You love it
Where are you? I have the status
I skewer like a cactus
I burst like baldur

You're so worried because you'll never in your life get the move to produce an album
Chinese without eating bamboo, I boast of sneakers
I nail it in the bass drum, it explodes like a bomb
I'll kill you like Bambi's mother, without being boom bap

You know that my music to the grave
Crazy that rumbles
If you like my topics, I hope you enjoy them
If not, you'll get a good downpour

And this is pure flow
To split it in two
If your girlfriend likes me
It will be because of this song

One, two, three, to the four, feds
Outside my motherfucker door, coming for my shit
Like, I'm in bed with the mafia with an Italian
Baby name Tania, repping Britannia
Been on this shit since the O2
Powering up like I'm Goku
Hit you with the kame-kame, come here little bitch

Lowkey been on the map since forever
I am a receiver, never been a giver
Are these cold bars spreading out fever
Evil like knievel, flying like a fucking eagle

Trying to tell all of these motherfuckers that I'm coming next
I'm the best, and I'm pulling up again
And now I'm winning, everybody feeling what I'm spitting
Everybody wants to know, who's runnin' the show
If I'm feeling cocky call me Mr. Motherfucking Roe
If I'm feeling cocky call me mr. Motherfucking Roe, me
Driving in my Panamera, with my panas driving through the fauna
Ratatata-ta-ta-ta-ta
Driving in my Panamera, with my panas driving through the fauna
I don't want a quarter pounder

Flying to Brussels for that big boy burger, flying to lux for that big boy chicken
Motherfucking finger licking, baby, why are you flibbing?
Baby, why are you looking? Baby, what are you feeling?
Chicken nugget looking ass bitch, yeah
You fat shut the fuck up
Stu-tu-tutering looking ass bitch, yo
Nah, I ain't harsh, I am just truthful
I just spit bars and I want Gucci
I want fast cars just like in movies
Whiskey and ice to pick up the spice
Money and wives, nobody's advice
Nobody's advice, yo

Brudda, I'm the best, you don't
Want to test, never get starring
Got a fat stash, just like man Stalin
All of them went to Harvard, yeah
But all of them work for me

Driving in a black Benz
Walking around like bad men
Always with the Mandem
Always with the Mandem
Bruv, ya, always with the Mandem
Yo, yo, check out for the Mandem, yo

And this is pure flow, to split it in two
If your girlfriend likes me it will be because of this song
And this is pure flow, to split it in two
If your girlfriend likes me it will be because of this song