Title: JUNIOR'S LAW Artist: Skepta
Lyrics: Ay yo Joyner It's time to go home son It's over Nah this shit ain't over Where's Skeppy at? I'm ready You've been gone for a minute now What? You missed the shit Is you serious? Time to go home son Haha Yeah You said that you've been waiting for this Come on tell me How long have you been waiting for this huh? Since you and 69 were fucking? Doing foreplay with a snitch Oh you heard I whip crack you're trying to stay in a mix You dick sucker you tried your luck Your album coming out you're dissing me to hype up your buzz I exposed the ignorance man You're lying too much While you were laughing at my accent I was lighting you up, with mad bangers Told him please shut the fuck up I have manners Cosplaying gangster rappers You think your lyrics are sexy Cos you switch em around and rap backwards You cap rappers Wack rappers I smack rappers It's war Jonah don't flop you know that I ain't nice Catch him at the nightshow, now hes got stage fright You know what I spray like, clips loaded Hit him with cannons From The Arsenal he ain't seeing daylight Or do it hands-free, no DNA I holler at my hitman He can hit you from 20 feet away Or it's a horror movie if he pulls out the shotty You ain't scaring anybody man this clash was a piece of cake You think you're seeing Skeppy today? I'm Nicolas Cage Gone in 60 seconds no Minute Maid But I've got the Juice now Jonah can't take the pain You lost your chances of ever being in D12 and I take the blame Is the fashion killer think I need a pink polo Dropped round 2 on your release date oh no Took you another week to reply you are so slow Said you pushing your album like THIS AINT PROMO Remember This is all Drew's mad plan I think you need to get his head checked Need to get him a CAT scan Cause he ain't Black Sam And I never said you're the black Eminem boy I said you're the black Stan Joke man Tried it Yeah You must have banged your head I saw you went on to a podcast told them you wished your dad was dead I cant lie thats a madness dread But it makes sense I understand it now Thats why you talk about mine you're a clown How you dissing my dad for holding the fam down? Yours burnt out he left you running around From one personality to the next Might be Will Smith Might be a snitch Could be a racist man Might be Chappelle Cus anyone else is better then being yourself I know storytelling is effective But I like your songs from your own perspective Like your song with Em when you came out the closest Do you, only fake niggas wont respect it I love exposing ignorance As a child of immigrants That's always been the plan I don't live on the coast Im with the gang On the ends And we're talking slang you don't understand We don't make excuses when it comes to war I'm in the booth I'm a birthday killer Your first names Gary So you know we gotta put him in the grave Like your surnames glitter And don't leave your girl round me That's foolish, always on time man I thought that you knew this I don't rock with you or your music What's love? Fuck that I just shoot shit I've never been robbed you bozo And im outside see me walking dolo If a man ever try touch my chain Leave em looking like the Jordan logo I didn't even need to discuss with the fans They can already see how many lies you told Said he hasn't heard from me since the 90's Jonah I was 9 years old All I had to was post one tweet Now you and all of your guys exposed You should say thank you I saw the spike in your streams Lets talk about the highs and lows I'm cooler than hametan A traveller pull up in a caravan If you left the country Might learn a lot when you spend a day in the UK with the gang Never race a Jamaican Never fight a Nigerian Never ride your bike into a Turkish man Never rob an Albanian Never diss a Somali Never go bar to bar with an English man Cus I got bars that can fuck up your future Its a fist fight I came with a bazooka All you could do now is watch me win You could never be headline you lollapalooza Delusions of grandeur Your lost in the sauce Get back in the real world Get off the computer Your father gave you all the gems Now you turn round saying you don't want to be Junior That's what's killing black men You said your managers from the ends Why does he talk like that then? When you said I wish I was American I was more confused then your managers accent Novelist dissed you Holla back then Chip Scorch Cruz Duppy and Smila The kwengadem live When its time to attack them Best in the world, better mention the mandem!
