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grim sickers - chris eubanks snr. lyrics
don’t chat to me, you don’t know man
all-black clothes, man, bag for a show, man
nwo like hogan
they know “kane” anywhere that i go, man
had the scene copying the flow, man
sweet boy with a gold tooth like a roadman
i come from a rudeboy old man
i’m so bow, got a link down roman
anything i drop is dough, man
if it ain’t dough then sickers don’t go, man
ring my 070, man
radio 1, locking in with logan
there’s nothing you can show man
i can do a feature if my p gets low, man
if a girl goes, i’ll let a girl go, man
they call me sickers the goat, man
’cause i’m nwo like hogan and nash
blood on interior, blood on the dash
heartbeat stopped in a flash
four magnums so i’m moving all fr-ss
stand still, don’t dash, on the wing like bel-ss’
who’s that girl? i didn’t lash
and what way you heading? round here’s armageddon
you’ll see klitsch in ’11
075 or 217
me against you, what the f-ck do you reckon?
mortal kombat plus paul from tekken
all-black nike air max when i step in
ayy, ayy
i’ll put a bodybag in a bodybag
in a bodybag in a next bag, that’s mad
moonwalk man ’cause i’m jackson bad, yeah
bodybag in the dirt, know someone can dig up
no comeback when the bodybag’s zip up
bodybag in the boot, four man in a dinger
flows like that made me a public figure
three lamb patties and a fruit punch bigger
red pea soup and a saltfish fritter
home of the brave, done man’s clart
home and away, sickers the great, ayy
intercontinental champ
i’ve got a belt and a nank, man know that i’m amp, ayy
and i’m back on stuff
that’s souls in the sky, that’s bodies in the mud, ayy
and girl ring me ’nuff
i get up then dust ’cause my st–ze is f-cked
i’m nuts, don’t f-ck with me, king
man are trying to set vibes like bing
spent two bills on a studio, yeah
spent three bills on a master, yeah
pull that back like plaster, yeah
see that i’ll f-ck up the dance up
i’ll reply if i lose, i’ve been swinging out crews
black nike tracksuit, you get battered and bruised
come out the way when grim fly through
running past him and i’m running past you
i ran past every mc that i rated
prs backdated
i’ve been dabbing with satan
and i kicked my man in his head so hard
i swear down that my foot’s still aching
intercontinental champ, you’ll get caved in
headback caved in, impaled on a railing
only a miracle can save him
big man, whip man every time i spin man
they call me grim sickman
take out big man and his wingman
’cause i move like ninjaman and sting man
i’m from the school of firmer
i’ll run up on man in a burqa
one bang, that’s gunshot murder
oh, sickers
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