Lyrics Chipmunk – Feel So Good

You can’t deny my history, my pen’s still working
Nigga, right now London’s bridge ain’t burning
Can’t out my fire, darg, I ain’t out of fire, darg
Anyone that told you they could done me is a liar, darg
Grime’s popping, I ain’t never got a thanking
I left Hustle Gang and came home to a mad ting
Handled it though, I’ve got more than a handful of flows
Hand ’em out single-handedly though
Fuck ’em all, I’m in a league of my own
Best thing about rap beef, you learn who’s your bros
Who’s real and who’s fake, who’s in the Matrix, who ain’t
Who’s concrete, who’s plastic, who’s sturdy, who breaks
Who’s switching sides and who’s gonna ride
Make no man test God’s timing, I’ve been a wordsmith
Man who wanna verse me can’t out-verse this
Yeah, my name’s Chip but I’m nobody’s fast food
Try and make a wing stop here, hold turbulence
Up like 7, dere pon Hot 97
Another top boy repping
If you haven’t seen Top Boy, it’s worth checking
Check yourself when you’re in town or hold a check in
‘Nough man a meow, cat my riddims
Some man are cats, tek nine shots fi kill ’em
Fast-consuming times that we live in
Could have man thinking that you’re dead when you’re chilling
I ain’t spoke to T.I in a minute

I went home, had business, I’m finished
Niggas chatting shit ’bout I fell off
Oi, shut up, I’ll dive back in and still kill it
Our father, thy kingdom’s come
I can’t hold my tongue, it’s like I’ve got tongues
I watch the news like ‘look at what religion has done’
I get high as my mind but my spliff’s soon done
I get my intoxication on
I’m rolling spliffs but writing blunt
Done alright with the numbers, but counting gets long
I’ve got 99 problems, these rappers ain’t one
Look, if you can hear me loud and clearly
You’ll understand lyrically, nobody scares me
Now let’s play ‘spot who’s insecure’
I know a lot of man don’t big me up cuh they fear me
Rap to grime, they know I’ve got that
I’m Dizzee, if you start dat, I’ll stop dat
My nigga, I ain’t hiding from my pop tracks
Pussy, if you pen up, I can pop back
If you don’t write what you need to, your flow’s messy
Stop off the heading, I’ll off your head then
Kick back and have a zoot and laugh with my bredrins
Base your style off a next man, that’s a dead ting
Niggas my age calling me old
Just cause I was popping when I was looking through the keyhole
You can test them other new niggas, not me though
Daddy in this ting and I don’t touch kids, pedo
I ain’t Crippng but I’m throwing up a C though
Fab with it, I’m a young OG though
Fuck around, cook a tape up for free though
I don’t hold back, I squeeeeze, go

Rap vs. Grime, what the fuck?