Hail Lyrics - Made In The Manor - Kano

Welcome to the jungle 

King of this shit, Royal Blood, welcome to the rumble 

Every man for himself, coco be wary, I square you now 

Inside the square circle cuz, curb your trust 

If I kill us and rob us and serve us up 

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Snakes in the grass couldn't turf a cup 

Can't befriend then burgle us 

Killing these bills, Uma Therman'd up 

Getting that belly like Sherman Klump 

Show's over when the curtains shut 

But mines are blinds and I'm turning up 

Who are ya? Bet you heard of us 

Big mic man like merciless 

They say grime's not popping like it was back then 

Rap's not honest like it was back then 

When I get gassed in the booth like this 

Niggas go bonkers like it was MAC-10 

Roll Jack Jones if it ain't man dem 

And again and again 

Roll Jack Jones if it ain't man dem 

Don't make money but it does make sense 

Karmas have answered us 

Light up a dance like bars when there's sparklers 

Out in Marms with an army of armsmens 

Pure click, [?] 

I begin, booked a studio in [?] 

Rolling the rustlers, holy bivariate 

Then I be back in East with the Gs 

That ain't no gangsters, mate, that's the governors 

Sweet geez, ark at him 

Cotching on Ermine Road where the barber's is 

With a whole leap of man get enough of us 

You know them man that draw 9 for an argument 

That shamone, you're a man like it's nothing then 

Come and round up the sticks like carpenters 

You wanna squash that beef but it started 

Man'll go door like "I'll let you buy a carpet" 

Stick to the script 

Real educated ignorant shit 

Don Perignon just to binge on the shit 

Yo, if it bubbles, put your finger in it 

White chicks sling G-strings when I spit 

Blacker days, would've got lynched for this shit 

Would've got whipped for this shit 

Now I push a German Whip on a bitch 

Now everybody wanna get Jigga rich quick 

What they handed to them likkle privileged kids 

Hands in the cookie jar, ripping off ribs 

I guess that's taking the flipping biscuit 

Stealing a living with your sticky fingers 

Crossing that pond and fishing for hits 

We both gain from a little influence 

But how comes nobody credits us Brits? 

This ain't no RP cup of tea music 

This real east end theme music 

No, I don't know the Queen 

But that bitch stays in my jean pocket 

No dubstepping on my toes 

Don't fuck with my drum and bass 

Shuffling to some council house 

But it gets grimy in these raves 

I've had dubplates on acetate 

Dun know Kano was here 

Used to shop in catalogs, now my catalog'll 

Give these soundboys diarrhoea 

Photos 

Smash all of your CD rack 

Won't get none of your CDs back 

Clear all of your CD rack 

Won't get none of your CDs back 

Smash all of your CD rack 

Won't get none of your CDs back 

Clear all of your CD rack 

Won't get none of your CDs back 

Welcome to the jungle 

King of this shit, Royal Blood, welcome to the rumble 

Every man for himself, coco be wary, I square you now 

Inside the square circle cuz, curb your trust 

If I kill us and rob us and serve us up