Shut Up - Studio Version

Lyrics

Right
 State your name, cuz
 Stormzy, innit?
 What we doing today?
 Repping, innit?
 Yeah, fucking repping, innit?
 Yeah, fire in the park, let's go!
 Man try say he's better than me
 Tell my man, shut up
 Mention my name in your tweets
 Oi, rudeboy, shut up
 Better than me?
 Shut up
 Best in the scene
 Tell my man, yo, yo
 Couple man called me a backup dancer
 Onstage at the BRITs, I'm a backup dancer
 If that makes me a backup dancer
 The man in your vids? Backup dancer
 The man in your pics? Backup dancer
 Man wanna chat about backup dancer
 Big man like me with a beard
 I'm a big man, how the fuck can I–?
 Army comes everywhere I go
 I can't run when my enemies show
 Walk in the club with all of my tugs
 Party's done, everybody go home
 Apart from the girl dem, you lot stay
 Walk in the club, all the girls say, "Hey"
 Tell a man like I'm K to the A
 There's no champagne, we don't rave
 Yeah, I'm the best, I'm so cocky
 I've got a mob like A$AP Rocky
 I set trends, dem man copy
 They catch feelings, I catch bodies
 They roll deep, I roll squaddy
 Got about 25 goons in my posse
 They drink Bailey's, I drink Vossy
 I get merky, they get worried
 If you got a G18, bring it out
 Most of the real bad boys live in south
 If you wanna do me something, I'm about
 I'm not a gangster, I'm just about
 But you see my man over there with the pouch?
 Dare one of you man try get loud
 All of my mandem move so foul
 I might sing but I ain't sold out
 Nowadays all of my shows sold out
 Headline tour, yeah blud, sold out
 When we roll in, they roll out
 I'm so London, I'm so south
 Food in the ends like there ain't no drought
 Flipz don't talk like he's got no mouth
 I wanna make my mum so proud
 Like, "Yo, Mum, book a flight, go now"
 All of my ex-girls stalking me hard
 Talk to my face, don't talk to my palm
 Had four bills and I bought me a car
 Little red whip that I bought for my marge
 I straight murk, it's a walk in the park
 I take care when I water my plants
 These MCs wanna talk about Lord of the Mics
 You ain't even lord of your yard
 Dead MCs, blud, leave me alone
 Me and your girl, we speak on the phone
 Kill a whole crew of MCs on my own
 Kill a whole crew of MCs for the throne
 I was out hungry, so damn hungry
 Man tried to eat then leave me the bones
 Now these niggas, they need me to grow
 Hot chocolate and a panini to go
 I'm a big man, fuck a postcode war
 Man were upset about the MOBO Awards
 Yeah, I was gassed at the MOBO Awards
 Why? 'Cause I ain't won a MOBO before
 Duh! All of you MCs sound so bitter
 Shut down Wireless, shut down Twitter
 Shoutout Deepee, shoutout Flipper
 Best my age, yeah blud, look
 If you don't rate me, shame on you
 If you don't rate me, shame on you
 Can I order a deathbed for a MC?
 He wants beef? Let me make that two
 Anyone else wanna make that move?
 Anyone else wanna pay their dues?
 Imposters wanna take my tunes
 Stiff Chocolate, yeah, my face so smooth, check it
 Don't even talk too much, you're a talker
 Dem man still go halves on a quarter
 Saw me turn from a prince to a pauper
 Two cigarettes and a bottle of water
 Told the bouncer, get the bottles in order
 Man in the kitchen putting in orders
 Stiff Chocolate, skin clear like water
 Smooth on this ting, start locking up daughters
 Yeah, so shut your fucking stupid mouths
 Chatting bare fucking shit
 Shut the fuck up, shut your fucking mouth
 Oi, rudeboy, shut up
 One time, yeah, chatting bare fucking shit
 Shut up, man
 Pussies, what?
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
03:00
Key
4
Tempo
87 BPM

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