Mikey D - Stupid

I won't manage ya, you're not in the team I can't damage ya, in front of this camera
I won't manage ya, I get the bag I don't care if you're in force mag, I'll
be like your dad and you're the little child I don't care if you're a problem, you're a
problem child Here in the North West, I ain't talking about

Tottenham I'm talking about the wild, wild West
Feds wear blue if you rest on a chest If I was in South, I'd be a guest
But I lived through every test, there's nothing left
Your career's a mess, but our minds like a treasure chest

If you know to be a checkmate, here you're playing chess
It's no stress, we're up in the wild, wild West
Up in the North, where man swings swords People don't fight like Jean-Claude
People just put it to a bar and let it roar I'm the MC, you can't ignore what I've got in store

Fuck with me, are you sure? I'm like, I'm not jolly sure
If you get anything, I'll get a cure for COVID-19
I live the dream, off the cream with my whole team
First my soul, I need to clean and redeem I was on BMX, shotting weed on the scheme

I got these MCs like Maggie D, where have you been
I'm like, behind bars, so I'm in track bars behind bars
Oh, the new girl stars, seen from afar, nice cars
Some of these man are like rah, I'm just like brah

Need to raise the bar, so spit sick bars First man I ever respected was my da
Then it was little Brad, but then little Brad turned to a fag
Started painting his nails and carrying handbags
These MCs think they're bad, give them a pen and pad and see who's bad

On the mic, I'm bad like Mike Lyrical fight, I got the psycho-lyrical inside
Hit the heights of Stormzy and Chip Empty the full clip, outside of the whip
And burned up the kid, split his wig I don't care if you're big, I earn quids
I'm lifting the lid on fake MCs who think they're the shit

They're brought up and taught with a mindset, don't even realise that they're big
I'm hitting a slide dig, doing it quick, slit like Rick
Take the Michael, I take in the Mick, I boss like Rick Ross
I take it's candy floss, don't give a toss, I'm cool like Jack Frost

From Moss, A1, you fucking pagans gonna pray, done
I don't care anymore, fuck these little whores, fuck these little rats
I'll turn man into bats, I'll turn man into caps
I straight out with the mats, straight come back with the facts

Man don't give two jacks, man come straight with the max
Straight with the pack, Mikey D on the rack
I take the Michael, I take the Mick, it's Mikey D, I don't give a shit
Give two shits, I don't give a fuck, I don't give two shits, Mikey D, bang

Written by:
ALFRED BELUOLISA AREH, MATTHEW DAVIES

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave

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