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Mel Made Me Do It es una canción de Stormzy cuya letra tiene innumerables búsquedas, por lo que hemos decidido que merece tener su lugar en este sitio web, junto con otras muchas letras de canciones que los internautas desean conocer.
(I'm not going economy, no way)
Jheeze, ay, hahahahaha
Ay, mummy
(I'm claiming it, man)
Claim it, Amen
(I'm claiming it)
Claim it, haha
(I said, I'm not going econ-, on uhm, economy)
Yeah, right, why
(Stormzy is my son)
Brap, brap
I've been the goat so long I guess it's not exciting when I win
Boohoo, someone grab the violins
Everything I try ting top bins like Haile when he sings
So of course, they don't like me I'm the king
Aight, tell me why oh why would I don't reply to him?
I leave him hanging like Kyrie on the rim, hm
Where do I begin, I wear the 5990 in the gym
I got a thing for shiny little things
What can I say, I'm like a young black Biden with a trim
Presidential when I'm ridin' in the Bimz
Taking pictures with my cameraman, I'm shining in my skin
For eight-figures I'm Aubameyang, I go and sign the ting
Aight, I never wonder about who I could've been, 'cah I'm here
Rose Gold Ross or the ceramic
Told bro spin it so he span it
We are not the same, big Mike from a whole different—
Top bins, what a set piece, fling it in the net
Could've Jet Li kick him until he bled
And I'm rent-free living in their head
What's that called? Ooh, kill them with success
Talking smoke, please, give it all a—
Still dripping in finesse
Man I got figures and flows I'm a different kind of F
Got a Lambo and a Rolls, that's a different kind of cheque
And I said I was the GOAT, they didn't listen when I—, ay
Any time I do a big fletch, just ignore me
Niggas wanna hear my side of the story
Niggas wanna hear a nigga chat like it's Maury
Fuck that, you niggas better bask in my glory
They call me to slide through the store 'cah I'm so patterned
To be fair we don't go Hatton
We don't tell lies
I think the kids call it no cappin'
The boys rough but the flows satin
I J Hus'tle and I'm MoStack'ing, they wanna' catch me on the roads lacking
You better pray that it don't happen (Niggas)
And I don't sell drugs, still I'm dope rappin'
Have your whole pattern Stiff Chocolate with the book
To be fair I don't fool Twitter
Getting told I'm not a real spitter by some broke-ass bill splitter
Listen, nigga, you got bigger fish to fry, like
If I ever see your girlfriend in Dubai, oh Lord
Party on the boat she's onboard and the Birkin is a bag you can't afford, and she'd like one
Do the maths you ain't the right one
It's alright, son, we'll send her back before the nights done
I wrote one, light one, eight-out-of-ten
She's my aight one, think of a hit then I write one
On when I sight one
This my, this my Ghanaian flow, it's a tight one
If she pretty then I put her on a flight
I put her on a jet if her pussy wait—
Look, my nephews are listening, and my chef should be Michelin
There's guests in my kitchen and my left wrist is glistening
And my tunes getting played from a set through a christening
They're pissed on the net 'cause I said I ain't listening
Ugh, real niggas know it's all positioning
Real niggas know I'm not the victim of rap
Uhm aight, I'll take the L, they hype the 'gram
They tell their jokes despite the man
I feed my folks, they bite my hand
I do the most, I'll fly to Cannes to watch a film, then back, alright
Headline Reading and Leeds like it's easy
Funny when they talk about the game 'cah it needs me
Niggas wanna hear a nigga spill it all to Zeze
Fuck that, you niggas didn't know that I'm greasy
It's easy, man talk shit until they see me
Believe me, all you niggas give me
Word to Lauryn, I will die on this hill
You little nigga's two figures shy on my deal
Someone slide me the bill, okay, I got it
What my eyes don't see, the Messiah reveals
If it all goes left, it's just I and my will
'Cah I guess I'm just the bredda that they're dying to kill, ah
Your boys mad dark, still I shine like a grill
Yeah, I'm healthy and I'm blessed but I rhyme like I'm ill
Line bagger, holding back the line like Kalil, ooh
I live a life that they try to fulfil
So they hate on my name but admire my skill
And before I touch stage, gotta' wire my 'mil, ah
My niggas do drill that was prior to Drill
If you see me with my dragons lookin' fly in the field
Know Khaleesi couldn't fathom all the fire I spill, nah
You old washed niggas should retire, for real
There's a time you should move, and a time to be still
There's a time to destroy and a time to rebuild
But all I see is washed up Godfathers and washed up podcasters
I own all my masters, I ain't got masters
I throw a party on the yacht and wear my Yacht Master
They think I just chart top, but I'm the top charter
Gaffer like I'm Scott Parker
From when the mandem use to rock parka's
I am Nasty, but I'm not Marcus
Genius, I could've clocked Harvard
My niggas slide but they are not dancers
Dead rappers wanna swap chargers
Nah, I mean they wanna swap stances
Nah, I mean they wanna trade places
Get to scrappin' like I ain't famous
Have you dashing like you're Dwain Chambers
Follow fashion, man, you fake greateness
To make a classic, yeah, it takes ages
But I still do it like my mate David
Nah, I mean like my bro Dave
Me and MIST, that's a close shave
They fear this but they won't say, I'm the nearest on a cold day
They love to talk about the old days
Them man are old like, Annie, are you okay?
I prefer not to speak like I'm José
(I prefer really not to, uhm, not to speak, If I speak I am in, in big trouble)
This is what I meant when I said what I said
I got whips in my drive, pretty women in my bed
My accolades are bigger than my head
Stylo told me, Kill 'em till they're dead
(The killy'dem carry one innah di head, Don Dada, kick off face with bank robber)
If it's a ting then I'll just pattern it like Trent, ay
Man I got 'tec's like I'm Kylian, punch like I'm Dillian
Walk into gym and I bump into William
Yeah, the S on chest, yeah, that stands for Success
But the M on my hairline stands for my millions
Ah, I got a brilliant car
I got a brilliant team, they wanna' bring up my past becah I'm living my dream
What we achieved ain't a shock 'cah we knew it
We just stepped all clean and said, Mel made me do it, ow
Now there's not enough space in my wardrobe
Benjart fitted on my waist and my torso
Niggas keep thinking I'm a chief, oh you thought so?
Chatty patty niggas, man, you niggas need a talk show
I've never seen real dons turn Loose Women
Sleep real good, fresh sheets, new linen
If we ever played a game called: Guess Who's Winning?
Then you'll open up the door, I'll be in the room chillin'
There'll never be a time where me and you's are twinning
Why? Different status, my chicks the baddest
You know the bags Chanel, the trips to Paris
And if your boys a King, the bits a palace
Okay, three O2's that I sell-out, man, I'm such a sellout
Might fuck around and bring Adele out
Me and Flipz don't talk like we fell out
Ah, get the hell out, all the shit I gotta' spell out
Please A-L-L-O-W me
Every time I double-back they go and double my P
I was double-spread Mike, now I cover I-D
I wouldn't cover for you dickheads if you covered my—
Ah, I knew they wouldn't like it if I blow
Got all your niggas rattled but you hide it on the low
I'm from the city where they're ridin' with the pole
And now my nephews can't believe that Spider-Man's my bro
Shout Tom, that's my guy, on-top till we die
Yeah, I skid through the world, hop-scotch to Dubai
There's a lot to divide but my God will provide
Couldn't get to where I'm going if you hopped in my—
I got TJ tellin' me we're done
I said: I thought I have an hour left?
Ah, man, my enemies are out of breath
I pray, then I fast, then I counter press
Spent a week in the sticks, but tonight I'm at my South address
Ah, you know how it gets
Holy Spirit, that's just how I'm blessed
Ah, two bags for my shower head, a nigga gotta' shower fresh
You little boys are out your depth
Know I got Ashford on the yard and Yianni on the wrap
I mean I'm Yianni on the rap
I'm the best at what I do, they think I'm braggin' on the track
But I'm flexing 'cah it's true, and if you went and run it back
You'd know if you were the truth
Because cars don't make you this lit
The money don't make you this good
Plaques don't make you this cold
Give a fuck what my shit sold
Buss a rhyme when I'm in flick mode, you pricks know
The boy's just way too nice so you always see my music on the shelf
I've been the GOAT so long that they don't hype a nigga up
So I guess I gotta do it to myself, boy
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