We’re Moving Along

'010's not them they won't survive one month
Talking shit, thinking I'm not aware
I know what you guys wanna hear
Your name in one of my rhymes
Then you get to say why, what or where
But I'm me so who say I've gotta care?

This ting is, I'm a new face in the crowd
But if anybody's in my way
I'm chasing 'em down
I'm 17 now, it gets late when I'm out
So it's black clothes and a
Black cape when I'm out
And the wickedest ting is I'm on a next ting
Testing? Don't think so cuh I'm flexing
That boy couldn't keep up, so I left him
My crew's gonna fly through, never-ending
And the wickedest ting is
I bring plastics back
Us man on the set, then I'm back in the ends
E60s, dams got a massive batch
Check Marley and dem in Priory
Move too fast, three of them can't find me
Pretty soon, I'll lock down the grime scene
Realised you'll never be a threat
But you're gassed up
Tryna get ahead of me instead

Yo, we're moving along
And the scene can't catch up
Cuh we're too fast
Niggas spent time in the studio sending
It's a next ting when we spray a few bars
And I ain't saying who's hard
I'm a graduate, you make your way into class
Let me say a few lines and cock back
You'll be praying to Christ you can top that

And the wickedest ting is I'm on a level that
None of these MCs can level at, I tell a man
If he ain't been through hell and back
Then he don't know where the devil's at
I know artists that are hungry
Like Dollar and Dot Rotten
I told Dot that I've got studio in Stratford
He rid his bike from south
Then he pedalled back
That's the pot calling the kettle black
And the wickedest ting is I never had a penny
Young with an empty belly
I couldn't get a cab
So I've done the same, now I run the game
Got the top locked but I still feel underpaid
Went from number eight to number one
I run the game, no wonder I'm
Doing this ting and doing it big
As long as I'm here
You're number two in this shit

We're moving along
And the scene can't catch up cuh we work hard
Studio daily, too many songs
I'll never let another MC splurt parts
Truthfully gone
You'll never find another artist like me
Anywhere in the world, search hard
There's no proving me wrong

My 16s are not like yours
Take man for ransom but I'm not like sport
I've seen a lot of guys doing this ting
But none of them flex like
Stealth on the rest
Your wifey had zampers, I'm on a next ting
Catch up, dem man are melting again
Ask Angie, Stam's on the last lap
While you man are like "help me again"
I won't help you again, why?
Cause your mixtape all sitting on
The shelf yet again
It's not me that you're badder than
Guess again
I hot beats up, I ain't ramping for them
Dem man are just shouting, tryna be
But I've got his friends like
"why did he send?" i'm executive
Them man are like "who's testing him?"
I can't see anyone

Yo, we're moving along
And the scene can't catch up
Cuh we're too fast
Niggas spent time in the studio sending
It's a next ting when we spray a few bars
And I ain't saying who's hard
I'm a graduate, you make your way into class
Let me say a few lines and cock back
You'll be praying to Christ you can top that

'09's not theirs they won't survive one year
Talking bullshit, thinking my lot care
You're the best when I'm not here
We can holla at a DJ and do it live on air
They keep saying you alright, you're air
The beat's playing and my mind's not clear
But I do this ting anyway