Stormzy Return Of The Rucksack Lyrics

I don’t wanna be on Lord of the Mics with shit MC’s, nah bro, I’m above that

Using my name for a dead bit of fame, tryna get up in the game, yeah right nigga, fuck that

Stormz’ ain’t grime and Stormz’ ain’t clash, look don’t be fooled ’cause the war ting, I love that

Call this the return of the rucksack, oi Flipz get the four-door truck back

Come to your block in my PJ’s

Big dot dot for the briefcase

Bro bought me a watch for my B-day

And my girlfriend’s a boss like I’m Decay

Yeah, I lick shots for my DJ

And I’m still getting guap in my CK’s

Big whip I’m underground parking (skrrt, skrrt)

That’s word to the fob on my key-chain

Nigga can’t flex on me, can’t flex on me

Rude boy thing, all the cheques on me

See Big Mike on the IV site

Now the pengtings wanna do the sex on me

I’ve got scars for days, I’m so tribal

You’re not Ghana made, you’re not Michael

I can spar and spray with my idols

Look, if I slap your face, it’ll go viral

I was on my saracen bike on my ridge back (Word)

Cold on the road buts I did that (Word)

IPhone 3 with the GiffGaff (Word)

Take a break little nigga, have a Kit Kat (Cool)

Came from the wall like a mix pack

I’ve got pengtings shaking their tic tacs

And I know that I shouldn’t be sending but broke niggas shouldn’t make diss tracks

You broke niggas should’ve been quiet

I’m cold little nigga, don’t try it

Yeah I think I’m the best, I’m biased

And I shoot for your chest like Payet

But I roll deep on these

Show these likkle MC’s about greaze

Show these likkle MC’s about me

I was on my steeze from 2003

Like I roll deep on these

Put these MC’s on deep freeze

Yeah, I roll deep on these

Put these MC’s on deep freeze

Yeah, I roll deep on these

Put these MC’s on deep freeze

Yeah, I roll deep on these

Put these MC’s on deep freeze

Yeah

Man are getting killed by other MC’s then coming round here tryna start

Rude boy, we ain’t forgotten your past

Laughing stock for the year, what a laugh

Sending for MC’s can’t be your path

Rude boy, come off my name, just graft

Man wanna know what they paid for the part

Know that I’m comfy, shout out Noel Clarke

Bro you’re too thirsty, I don’t blame you

I get merky, I get paid too

You’re not certi’, I can’t hate you

Just a wasteman looking for a break-through

I know Kofi, I know Kweiku

You can’t smoke me, I don’t rate you

Man, I told these niggas that it’s album time and it’ll probably go gold on my debut

I was on a BMX bike with the trick nuts (Word)

Out here tryna get my chips up (Word)

Known for the park with my lightie (Mm?)

I was fifteen tryna get my dick sucked (Eurgh)

Young nigga tryna get my dick wet (Word)

Had a cold pink jacket like Dipset

Last night I just rung my accountant

Like talk to me brother, am I rich yet?

Like, talk to me brother, can I buy this?

Big yard for my nephew Alias

Can’t get this style from a stylist

Then I blow on the riddim like ISIS

But I roll deep on these

Show these likkle MC’s about greaze

Show these likkle MC’s about me

I was on my steeze from 2003

Like I roll deep on these

Put these MC’s on deep freeze

Yeah, I roll deep on these

Put these MC’s on deep freeze

Yeah, I roll deep on these

Put these MC’s on deep freeze

Yeah, I roll deep on these

Put these MC’s on deep freeze

Yeah

I don’t wanna be on Lord of the Mics with shit MC’s, na bro, I’m above that

Using my name for a dead bit of fame, tryna get up in the game, yeah right nigga, fuck that

Stormz’ ain’t grime and Stormz’ ain’t clash, look don’t be fooled ’cause the war ting, I love that

Call this the return of the rucksack, oi Flipz get the four-door truck back