Stig Of The Dump – I Got Game Lyrics
Lyrics
Verse 1
- Fuck Street Fighter I got game,
- With skills to burn a rapper up in white hot flames,
- Increase the heat until you start to perspire,
- Breath in let the beat drop its nothing but, “FIRE”
- I bring heat like an arsonist,
- To concepts, stories or bars of retardedness,
- My whole attitude’s FUCK YOU,
- So if you don’t know my problem you’re probably part of it,
- Suave ass narcissist I’m the top boy,
- Self-taught you can’t learn the art from a starter kit,
- Tell me who reps hard as this,
- NO ONE I’m fatter than a wideboy marker tip,
- And that ain’t the half of it,
- EOW world champ is summat you can’t argue with,
- Heavyweights cant spar with Stig,
- ‘Cos I will end your career with E’s like Brian Harvey did,
- Spark the piff let it circulate my system,
- Then spaz out like the riots in Brixton,
- Big up all the real heads from London to Brisbane,
- The rest of you fuckers can ride my diction,
Chorus
- Fuck Street Fighter I got game,
- With skills to burn a rapper up in white hot flames,
- Increase the heat until you start to perspire,
- Breath in let the beat drop its nothing but, “FIRE”
Verse 2
- Sick flow schitzo, pissed, living in diss mode,
- Live wire bringing hell fire & brimstone,
- I rip shows, from the suburbs to skid row,
- On much bigger beats than you’ve gotten from your big bro,
- Me & the mic connect like fists to wrist bones ,
- And cause more “Organized Konfusion” than Prince Po,
- Think you’re bigger than this?? Let me chin stroke,
- Hmmmmmm?… I DON’T THINK SO,
- It’s all gravy, mash tatties & roast beef
- Black cabs, battle raps & no sleep,
- British shit like fat yatties with broke teeth,
- And visits to the chippy keep the fat man obese,
- You never seen a rep that’s so deep,
- You don’t even get respect from your own peeps
- Wanna know your copping quality?
- Then check the F.U motif, etched in gold leaf,
Chorus
- Fuck Street Fighter I got game,
- With skills to burn a rapper up in white hot flames,
- Increase the heat until you start to perspire,
- Breath in let the beat drop its nothing but,
Verse 3
- Guess who’s back in the mother fucking yard,
- Constantly fogging bongs or chugging jars,
- Trying to convince myself that I’m a star,
- Out of it shouting “Tarahtid Bumbaclaat”,
- And I don’t even know what that means,
- I’m just a loser who happens to be a rap fiend,
- So fuck trying to fit in with a whack scene,
- Where everybody dresses like an advert for Gap jeans,
- And if that seems ignorant,
- Make complaints via 0800 I don’t give a shit,
- I make Fuck You music,
- You don’t like it cool, fuck you don’t listen bitch,
- You see I’m in it for the jokes,
- & I’ve been in it for a minute so quick with the killer quotes,
- You’re in it for the image you idiots think you’re dope,
- But I’m a bigger lyricist equipped with the sicker flows.