Big O yeno & Glitch Kid - Goin Down

(I don't do this every night, you know)

Uh
Yeah, make my kebabs veg only
Tried to bail but the ten said "Hold me"
Said "Baby, ye gotta let Big O free
But you can come off the bench like Ginobili"
Yeah, most thick dips on my pita
Bro skipped cos am that much slicker
Yeah, zip in quick like Burter
Hurt ye with the lyrical murder, uh
Yeah, never once missed a sunset
Frostbitten dumb eds with cold words and fun verses
When am done there'll be so many full hearses
With all sad rappers skulls just lurkin
Am the early bird snatchin worms
With impressive adjectives an magic verbs, yeah
Never heard of me be unfairly swerved
Like Rick Ross both hands full of pears

Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down

Uh, yeno Glitch Kid cheffin
Jealous little weapon, suggest confessin
Let's not pretend that the rest impressin
Nice with the mic so ice I write deafen (are ye messin?)
Told when am flowin it's scripture
Blow to the brain of a boa constrictor
No sense of shame, I know am the victor
Spliff hit ye, split ye, rum and pineapple mixture
Incredible, every individual decibel
Lyrics impeccable, your shit just a little bit terrible
Uh, am spittin seminal statements
Maintainin difficult schedules
Grim gimps are vegetables, thinkin you're edible
Speed off hummin, green seems remedy
I stub a toe but I keep on runnin
Pray all those who need receive therapy

Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down
Yes lad, it's goin down

(I want everybody to get up out their seat
Alright, check this out, yo)

Cook up raps, reduce the juice for more flavour
The sauce ought to torture and pain ye
You're talkin to boom bap's saviour
Ooze class and move fast when I do that hash sabre
And fuse back with Mother Nature, uh
Pray to God for good crops this summer
Sun on my chops make the beard hairs fuzz an shimmer
O stone cold, get hit with a stunner
Dishin sinister puns while these geeks get much dumber
An no meats in my dinner

Uh, lit the jabba with my own voice
Gotta admit am sick kid, there's no choice
Season the feast, speech expertise
I keep repeat beatin freaks with each flow unleashed
Never cease, ego increase til obese
Send the flame, make a sound like Weezy
Never let you down like Yeezy
Clowns quite Pleakley, flow might freeze me completely
Jabba galore, let them clap an applaud
Keep an ice cold bevvy, am a twat to the core, ye nobed

(Glitch Kid produced it)
(Gimme tha hummus
Gimme that baba ganoush
Gimme that baba ganoush)

Written by:
Alex McWilliam, Omid Mirkhalaf

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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