Step into the lyrical labyrinth where Aitch's wordplay reigns supreme. This track is a raw, unfiltered showcase of his journey from underestimated white boy to rap royalty. With sharp wit and relentless flow, Aitch navigates through themes of ambition, success, and the haters that fuel his fire. He balances braggadocio with introspection, reflecting on his rise while staying grounded by familial wisdom. The verses are packed with clever metaphors and punchlines that highlight his skillful craftsmanship in the rap game. #Wordsmith #RapJourney #LyricalGenius #RiseToFame
Straight Rhymez
Lyrics
Ay yo, wassup man
Swing that camera my way here brotha
If you don't see me in my sides with my guys
I be in the nice vibe, zoned tryna write rhymes
Bitches in my eyesight, lyrics in the pipeline
I combine lines when the time's right
If I'm in the right mind
White guy's gonna fly high, I'm the right guy
Trust me I'm the coldest don in this, ain't nothin like ice
Told you she don't like rides, but said she wanna ride mine
You're taking her to Five Guys, I beat her in my guy's ride, uh
She call me sexy 'cause I rhyme tight
But she move sour 'cause I'm getting all the lime light
Leave her in the morning and won't see her till the night time
She only ever phones me for dick, I got a pipeline
Step up on the stage, fuck everyone it's my time
Dash a man's watch in the crowd, look how time flies
You're stepping on the fine line, the roof will get raised
Like the London city knife crime
She thinks it's funny how I stack up all this money
So I tell her suck my dick and then I'm busting word to A1
Fuck it, I ain't fussy, run the beat, I'm getting mucky
Catch a vibe, I'm not a rookie, get a lyric and I spray one
Duppy yet I'm gully, take the piss, I'm with your honey
Giz' a kiss, ya' looking lovely, better show me what you're made of
She been near a few guys, holla'd her a few times
You know she likes the blue eyes, watch how I take my shades off
Grind, rap, trap, gets rapped
That's facts, man don't clap straps
But I, slap tracks fast, barriers get smashed
That's straight to the cash, come back with a bad diss
Ain't a bus pass, man I don't pass back
In other words back track, gets swerved, that's that
Fat back, slim body, no back fat
Said she's into black man, dash me an L let me catch that
Please someone test me
I'm alright for a white
When I write I'm a lefty
Fuck a knife but I'm nice for a fight, if you get me
Ay yo, check me
I swear to god, I'm underestimated
I never flop, I got it boxed, look how I demonstrate it
Listen up, I teach you 'suttin, now you're educated
I took ya L but kept smiling, come and celebrate it
Couple groupies, I'm lovin' the life
But maybe one day I'll find the love of my life
Nah, 'low it I'm drunk, man's fuckin' tonight
Aitch, look at yourself, stop thinkin' you're fly
I'm not a fraud, don't flex for the cam
Summer time, watch a white boy flex with a tan
I believe that I'm cold, you ask why, 'cause I am
Your beefin' is old, please go find a plan
Dad said there's not a lift up to success
You gotta take the stairs, you're gonna go through 'nough stress
But in the long run, you're comin' out with 'nough bread
Pops, don't worry fam, I got 'dis, 'nough said
How can I feel down when I'm up next?
I hide things wrong, nobody see me when I'm upset
Do what I enjoy, man, I'll stick to what Mum said
So I do shows, videos and I run sets
I just step in, give the mic a blessing, then I'm jetting
Donny's say my name, but I swear I've never met him
Begging it to get in but they can't, so now they're stressing
Tryna do my bit, I can't be arsed with all the messing
Hatin' on the kid, it's kinda long, you're all depressing
But since the day I started, it's been nothing but progression
You don't know 'nuttin 'bout me, you're just guessing
Don't give a fuck about a weapon, you weapon
'Cause it's Aitch in the place, quick
Pass me the mic and watch 'suttin get blazed
I ain't got a strap, but I aim when I spray 'em
When the target gets locked, there's no escapin' it, mate
Really, who's testin'? Name a guy, I'm interested
Honestly my lyrics suttin' like a weapon, got 'em stressin'
So many haters, thank the Lord, that's a blessin'
It's sad, they just mad, they can't get in where I'm shellin'
I don't lurk and dip down ops
But I skirt and dick down thots, I'm a disgrace
I used to ride up to Failsworth on peddles
With the disc brakes, then ride home shit-faced
Half a bottle vodka in my pocket thinkin'
This is the shit, mate, absolute piss take
All these brother's hate me so much, but they know that I'm heavy
So they sick of seein' this face
Finally, Mr. Aitch, professor of rhymary
P, that's the only thing I've learnt since primary
Gotta hit the booth, this freestyle just reminded me
Bless up, safe, appreciate ya' spendin' time with me
Writer(s): Perry Oatway, Harrison James Armstrong
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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