We're Moving Along — текст песни

010's not them, they won’t survive one month

Talking shit, thinking I’m not aware

I know what you guys wanna hear

Your name in one of my rhymes

Then you get to say why, what, or where

But I’m me, so who says I’ve gotta care?

Check it

Wickedest ting is, I’m a new face in the crowd

But if anybody’s in my face, I’m chasing them down

I’m 17 now, it gets late when I’m out

Always black clothes and a black cape when I’m out

And the wickedest ting is, I’m on a next ting

Testing, don’t think so, because I’m flexing

That boy couldn’t keep up, so I left him

My crew’s gonna fly through, never ending

And the wickedest ting is, I bring classics back

Us man on a set, then I’m back at the ends

E60's dams got a massive batch

Check Marley and them,

Move, and them can’t find me

Pretty soon, I’ll lock down the grime scene

Realise, you’ll never be a threat

But you’re gassed up, trying to get ahead of me instead

Yo, yo, yo

We’re moving along

And the scene can’t catch up, going too fast

Niggas spend time in the studio, sending

It’s a next ting when we spray a few bars

And I ain’t saying who’s hard

I’m a graduate, you make your way into a class

Let me say a few lines and cock back

You’ll be praying to Christ you can top that

I’m the wickedest ting as I’m on a level that

None of these MCs can level at or tell a man

If he ain’t been through hell and back

Then he don’t know where the Devil’s at

I know artists that are hungry like Doller and Dot Rotten

I told Dot, I got studio in Stratford

He rid bike from South then he peddled back

That’s popcorn and the kettle black

And the wickedest ting is that I never had a penny

Young with the empty belly, I couldn’t get a cab

So, I’ve done the scene, now I run the game

Got the top lock but I still pain

Went from number eight to number one

I run the game

No wonder I’m doing this ting and doing it big

As long as I’m here, you’re number two in this shit

We’re moving along

And the scene can’t catch up because we work hard

Studio daily, too many songs

I’ll never get another MC slip past

Truthfully gone

You’ll never find another artist like me

Anywhere in the world, search hard

There’s no proving me wrong

My 16s are not like yours

Take man for ransom but I’m not like Scorch

I’ve seen a lot of guys doing this ting

But none of them flex like

Your wifey had

I’m on a next ting

Catch up, them man are melting again

Ask, Stamz on the last lap

While you man are like, «help me again»

I won’t help you again

Why? Because your mixtape all sitting on the shelf yet again

It’s not me that you’re badder than, guess again

A hot beat’s up, I ain’t ramping for them

Them man are just shouting, trying to be tense

But I got his friends like, «why did he send?»

I’m executive, them man are like, «who's testing him?»

I can’t see anyway

Yo, yo, yo

We’re moving along

And the scene can’t catch up, going too fast

Niggas spend time in the studio, sending

It’s a next ting when we spray a few bars

And I ain’t saying who’s hard

I’m a graduate, you make your way into a class

Let me say a few lines and cock back

You’ll be praying to Christ you can top that

09's not theirs

They won’t survive one year

Talking bullshit, thinking my lot care

You’re the best when I’m not here

We can holler at a DJ and do it live on air

They keep saying, «you're alright, you’re air»

The beat’s playing and my mind’s not clear

But I do this ting anyway