Can't Hold We Down
Lyrics
Everybody-ody-ody-ody
Needs somebody-ody-ody-ody
Everybody-ody-ody-ody
Needs somebody, somebody to love
Ahh, ah
I'm thankful
Where I reach in life
Cah man grew up rough
Ghetto yute we fight the fight
Dem can't hold we now
Can't hold we down
Dem can't hold we now
Can't hold we down, hold
Uh, buss a shot for a real one
I don't mean a gun finger, buss a real one
Then free butcher, we was raised on the real dons
Not all these rassclart lil' suttin's, nah
Black suit like I'm dressed for a killing
Steppin' at with auntie, something fresh she be whippin'
All black Range Rover, all black women
I bet the Daily Mail wan' Photoshop a spliff in, ay
This one, it got the summer on smash
Couple hundred plus VAT, do the fucking quick maths
Out of character to gas but it's facts cuz
I was in Ayia Napa in bless club
You can ask Demon and you can ask D Dubz
Representin' East and the city for the city ones, uh
I ain't a gangster but I rave with dem
We both pop ten bottles of escapism
I'm thankful (hey, hey)
Where I reach in life (hey)
Cah man grew up rough (hey, hey)
Ghetto yute ew fight the fight (hey)
Dem can't (hey) hold we now (hey)
Can't hold me down (hey, hey)
Dem can't (hey) hold we now (hey)
Can't hold we down (hey), hold (hey)
Tell dem a bad man ting and a yard man ting and a London ting
Boydem wan' man feel, they nah wan' man free, they nah wan' man win
Them know dem can't violate, cah mi have some way ah sing like violin
I'm so goddamn blessed everyday of mi life, I keep smiling
Used to play run house, every time the sun out
Now they're getting guns out, man are getting run down
Every new day, a new drama, something's gone down
Couple man gone in, a couple man just come out
Some Gucci loafers, we're going out out
Fuck Hakkasan, got G sheakers looking gang there
We don't twist fingers and we don't wear bandanas
We just drink Henny from the bottle, call it bad manners
Yeah, we're from bad manors, can't take the mickey round here
If a boy move iffy round here, might clip him round ear
For the dargs and kittys round here
But the gyaldem pretty round here (Oh gosh)
This is major living
Bore fruit like Bob with The Wailers with him
Champagne in the dance, that's how we play the rhythm
Money pull up, make a jockey jack our favorite lyrics
Plus I ain't baby sipping
I'm in the V.I (hey), I don't see none of them (hey)
Might see Ghetts (hey), I see Post, I see Wretch (hey, chillin', ooh)
I see Bizzle (hey), Don P, nuttin' less (hey, wagwan?)
Hollowman (hey), that's my gun man friend (hey, pump pump)
I come here with a couple (hey) money man friend (hey, wheelie dem)
So don't come here with (hey) your bottle contest (hey, problem)
Every month (hey), bills, every week, stress (hey)
But we blessed 'cause we made it out the S
I'm thankful
Where I reach in life
Cah man grew up rough
Ghetto yute we fight the fight
Dem can't hold we now
Can't hold we down
Dem can't hold we now
Can't hold we down, hold
Oi
Tell them a bad man ting and a yard man ting and a London ting
Boydem wan' man feel, they nah wan' man free, they nah wan' man win
Them know dem can't violate, cah mi have some way ah sing like violin
I'm so goddamn blessed every day of mi life, I keep smiling
'Matic (hey), ugly like Chucky bride (hey)
Anywhere mi go (hey), mi ever have it pon mi side (hey)
Run up on the kid (hey), that's suicide (hey)
My killy draw the .45 (hey) and do the 35 (hey, hey, oooh)
Champagne poppin' at the crib (hey, sweet, hey)
Dem life, tell me wan' live (hey)
Fly guys summer (hey) sent the kids out the ends (hey, hey)
But you can't take the ends out the kid (hey)
Writer(s): Cleveland Browne, Clifton Bailey, Kane Robinson, Wycliffe Johnson, Andrae Hugh Sutherland, Blue May, Jodi Milliner
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Downtown Music Publishing
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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