🎵 Fire in the Booth (Part 4) // by Chip

6 ContributorsFire in the Booth (Part 4) Lyrics [Verse] This month I heard ten songs popping, that just all sound the same And I don't know who to blame, is it the rappers or the game? And I gain from the rappers who just cat, I can't relate You gon' think it's fun and games, til' I'm rappin' in your face (uh) Nice on a song, but I stay wild Boy, you won't see it coming, I go Ray Charles And you're a big man where? On your way child Gave an inch, but he took a yard, then got 8 Mile'd Rappers unraveled (uh) About 'beef', that was falafel Young Chipper, I handle my cattle Eh boy, what you sayin', wanna play? You take this wordplay for a game, until you gotta play me at scrabble I don't dibble, or dabble in things I can't manage I plan, I don't panic One rule, never have it Is he grime? Is he pop, bashment, hip-hop or garage? The debate goes on, but it's apparent he a savage I ain't watching rappers talking trapping all the time So much weed around I, you're lucky I don't have a line It's 10 years, straight bars, don't worry 'bout me I'm fine Team Hov, but love Nas, all I need is one mic (uh) Secure the bag like I'm taking trash out Who let these rappers in? Take the trash out Come up off a next man? That's a wack route Chip ain't got bars? Bludclart, yeah I chat 'bout I can spot a shit MC, and a leech too Cut him off, no more free flights, no more free food Remind niggas, you need me, I don't need you Fuck it man, I'd go everywhere if it was free too Like how you talking boss-ish, but don't go in your pocket? Gossiping, stop it, 'low it man, drop it Sign of the cross, God, niggas got me cross You shouldn't pillow-talk to gyal that only wanna know the boss Because the truth gon' come out, and your time gon' run out It goes from "you dun-know", to "look now, you're done out" Smokin' on this 10-10, pen and make gems Bet everyone relates to bars about fake friends To my young niggas getting it (uh) Watch your enemies and mains 'Cah when you're getting money niggas change You could spend your whole life tryna' show a man the way Look you can feed a hungry dog, but you cannot change his traits Flexing in Miami, me Ram and Kay and Sean nigga We them 90s babies showing Haringey there's more nigga Yachts in the ocean, thinking Haringey's at war nigga I put on for my niggas, what you do for yours nigga? Brought niggas, I've bought niggas food, rented niggas rooms Never got a penny, kept it moving I've been looking back at life, like "was that the right moves?" I should'a told him "write a CV", should'a sent him rightmove 'Cah trapping ain't dead, but it surely ain't for everyone Rapping ain't dead, but it surely ain't for everyone Chipmunk cuffin' these hoes, now they're everyones How you claiming home-girl? She's spreaded it for everyone What you ain't get the memo? It's CM, hello Bluku-bye, man leggo Oi, DPMO Made it through Tottenham, don't tell me 'bout ghetto Lobster in my noodles, came a long way from Nettos Sometimes pen 'em down, sometimes off the dome But you'll never catch me live spittin' reading off my phone See the era that I come from if you did that you'd be stoned See my niggas going global, I'm still tryna' cut the codes But I'm nice, and I'm still here Pray to the most high Flow tighter than most guys Still smokin', the most high So fuck your spliff if it's lemon or ammi' If it ain't grade, only pass it if it's Cali' I know niggas can't stand me, and I can't stand them But I don't need no damn friends, all I need's my damn pen I'm a old school spitter, not no YouTube novice I was leaving rappers scared to read their YouTube comments See it in their eyes, niggas mad when they see I Must've thought it was the end, when I came home from T.I.'s Told my brodie on a V.O, all these niggas wanna 'V' I Pray this mic-war, don't get me shot like B.I.G They can't see the bigger pic, I see Was tryna' bring back this bar stuff, got bored of that chart stuff You know I'm team words, and I'm mad about P So if you're Mad About Bars, you should be mad about me Like what you mad about B? My shades are on, mad lean They were tryna' snap at me Went missing, Madeleine And they were coming from the left And they were coming from the right But ain't no B2K, I bada-boom, bada-bing