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Lewis Recordings

I Got Game​.​. (Digital Single)

by Stig Of The Dump

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about

Click on track titles for individual downloads @ 79p.

credits

released August 2, 2010

license

all rights reserved

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Track Name: I Got Game
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/
Concepts, punchlines or bars of retardedness/
My whole attitudes FUCK YOU/
So if you don’t know my problem, your probably part of it/
Suave ass narcissist, im the top boy/
Self taught, you cant learn the art from a starter kit/
Tell me who reps hard as this/
NO ONE im fatter than a wideboy marker tip/
And that aint the half of it/
E.O.W world champ is sommet you cant argue with/
Heavy weights cant spar with stig/
Cos I will end your career with E’s like brian Harvey did/
Spark the piff let it coirculate 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/

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"

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/
Its 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 thats so deep/
You dont even get respect from your own peeps
Wanna know your copping quality??/
Then check the F.U motif, etched in gold leaf/

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/

Guess whos back in the mother fucking yard/
Constantly fogging bongs or chugging jars/
Tryna convince myself that im a star/
Out of it shouting “Tarahtid Bumbaclaat”/
& I don’t even know what that means/
Im just a loser who happens to be a rap fiend/
So fuck tryna fit in with a wack 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 im in it for the jokes/
& ive 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/

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