Skepta delivers a raw narrative about the constant pressure and scrutiny from law enforcement. The lyrics depict an evening that spirals out of control, leading to a confrontation in a club and subsequent arrest. Skepta's frustration with being targeted by the police is palpable as he laments the invasive procedures and the anxiety of potential imprisonment. The song highlights themes of racial profiling, injustice, and the struggle to maintain composure in volatile situations. Through vivid storytelling, Skepta captures the tension between living life freely and the ever-present threat of legal repercussions 🚔. This track serves as a powerful commentary on systemic issues within policing and its impact on individuals' lives.
Crime Riddim
Lyrics
The feds wanna shift man
Wanna put me in the van, wanna strip a man
Fuck that, I ain't a Chippendale
Wanna strip a male
Put me in a prison cell
Got me biting all my fingernails
Sitting in my hotel, listening to beats
My bredrin said that he's in the rave, told me that I should reach
So I jumped in the shower, got ready quick
Pulled up in a taxi, text my bredrin, tell him I'm on the strip
I stepped in, went to the bar, made my order
I got my drink, I posted up in the darkest corner
This guy frantically jumping around and spilled my drink twice
But I really ain't tryna fight, really ain't tryna see no jail tonight
The feds wanna shift man
Wanna put me in the van, wanna strip a man
Fuck that, I ain't a Chippendale
Wanna strip a male
Put me in a prison cell
Got me biting all my fingernails
Feds wanna shift man
Wanna put me in the van, wanna strip a man
Fuck that, I ain't a Chippendale
Wanna strip a male
Put me in a prison cell
Got me biting all my fingernails
What the fuck? This pussyhole must've been off his nut
In the cut, jumping around like a little slut
I pulled him up, "yo, you spilt my Hennessy out my cup"
And still tryna run it up, it's like this guy really wants to scuff
Flexing like he had something on the waist
Pull Shorty out the way, blaow, punch him in the face
Made him Shmoney dance, I made him rock away
We ran out of the dance, we could've got away
But we came back, should've gone home and hit the sack
But he never hit me back, I was like "that's a wrap", fuck that
Shorty found some gritty tings to keep us company
Then the feds run up on me and put the cuffs on me
What you know about four man in a cell? Couldn't sleep
Spending pennies in the pissing well
You should see my cell mate, he's in shit as well
Sitting here, just waiting to hear keys in the door
I'm tryna buss this case even if I gotta get on my knees in the court, crazy
Trust me, Dex
Fucking hell, brudda, man
You actually got nicked?
Man, dickhead ting, fighting ting, fam. Look at my knuckle
Fucking hell, what? Strip-searched and?
Fam, not gonna lie, fam. Strip-searched, they made me liff up
The feds wanna shift man
Wanna put me in the van, wanna strip a man
Fuck that, I ain't a Chippendale
Wanna strip a male
Put me in a prison cell
Got me biting all my fingernails
Feds wanna shift man
Wanna put me in the van, wanna strip a man
Fuck that, I ain't a Chippendale
Wanna strip a male
Put me in a prison cell
Got me biting all my fingernails
So what, what happened, then? So what's the settings now, bruv?
Well, man, I was just grovelling to the magistrates, man. Literally just begging for my life brudda
Writer(s): KWADWO KANKAM, JOSEPH ADENUGA, JASON ADENUGA, ALEXANDER BLAKE
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
What is the Meaning of Crime Riddim
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