Eskimo Dance - Wiley

Central Line!

Man try a ting, Central Line!

Boy try a ting, Central Line!

No long ting on the Central!

Fucked in the head-a-leng

If I’m bored-a-leng

I might walk down the road-a-leng

Eat anyone-a-leng, pon dem a-leng

And then duckle

Nine!

Manna lick two inna your chest

Put two inna your spine

Fuck round with K, your life is on the line

Well, you don’t wanna war with K9

Nine!

Manna lick two inna your chest

Put two inna your spine

Fuck round with K, your life is on the line

Well, you don’t wanna war with K9−9

Yo, one of dem, one of dem

C-A-P-O, yeah, one of dem, one of dem

Come out the way, yeah, one of dem, one of dem

Manna get liff, yeah, one of dem, one of dem

Bun down rave, yeah, one of dem, one of dem

Pricks in the grime scene, yeah, one of dem, one of dem

Can’t take Capo for one of dem, one of dem

Mandem load at one of dem, yo

Ey, yo, love grime (Hey!)

Run man a riddim, I’ll torch it (Hey!)

Dark like we’re living in sunshine (Hey!)

Slap 'way another exclusive (Hey!)

One line, make ya head lumpy

I give dem eight bar, gyaldem haffi start moving

Wah dem ah deal wid?

(Level)

Cah you know my ting already

I’m like, «Wow!

Who’s that rass!»

Fuck up the rave like CS gas

Murkle man, kill off a fass

Worship me like Sunday mass

And again, «Wow!

Who’s that rass!»

Fuck up the rave like CS gas

Murkle man gonna kill off a fass

And man worship me like Sunday mass

Bang!

Couldn’t be a stupid man

Bang!

Better know I’m a money man

Bang!

Can’t chat shit to me, man

Bang!

Cah man are real big mic man so

Bang!

Wiley’s a London man

Bang!

Gyaldem know I’m the man

Bang!

Know that I’m old school man

Yes, who’s hot on microphone stand?

Manna said lie dem a tell, lie dem a tell

Man are gonna shell dem as well, shell dem as well

Put your food on the scale, food on the scale

Ayy, it’s not everyday trap on Snap

Manna said lie dem a tell, lie dem a tell

Man are gonna shell dem as well, shell dem as well

Put your food on the scale, food on the scale

Ayy, it’s not everyday trap on Snap

You wanna test?

It’s fine by me

New era, hit 'em with the new stylie

Ear’um scare 'em, wear and tear 'em

I got the flows that are too grimey

You wanna test?

It’s fine, fine

Hit 'em with the new era line, line

I’m cheeky like a rear end

Soon gonna explode like a mine

Young Raiden’s got a new ting called

No-no, remorse-morse

You got a new one but they won’t sing, that’s

No-no, remorse-morse (Wait)

I tell man straight up I’m the best, that’s

No-no, remorse-morse (Wait)

I say, «Wait» and they still say, «Yes», that’s

No-no, remorse-morse

Freeze, don’t make me squeeze

No it’s not Babylon, it’s Mr. Breeze

Breathe and you’ll catch my disease

If you don’t own a gas mask, better leave

Say please and I might be nice

Cold as ice, I drop bodies at a nice price

Say the word, spray these nerds

With verbs till their eyes are blurred

I don’t care, I don’t care

Take your shit, get out of here

Leave the seat, fuck it take the chair

Say you done this but who was there?

Who was near?

Temper’s short so watch your talk

My strikers shoot and when I pop the ball

From Roman Road down to Stroudley Walk

Drive big cars, man I hardly walk

Start mooting 'em up

What you doing there?

Start fucking them up

That boy there, start banging him

Chaps, chain, start jacking him

Draw for the gat, start gun bucking 'em up

Torture path leave some shattering

All his mandem come off the block

Jump fences, climb over walls

Start scattering

Grips!

Bang him!

You’re on the floor!

No movement, you’re on the floor!

Catch him at the back of the flats!

Grips!

Bang him!

You’re on the floor!

No movement, you’re on the floor!