Cadell – World War III Lyrics

World War III By Cadell

Enough of the mischief
Claim to be hotting me, you never did s—
I show no emotion
You’re only saying my name for promotion
And if you both make friends right now
You’d still be the one that got dosing
How you gonna be disappointed? Just phone him
I’m the reason you roll with 18 man to a show
King of the industry plants
And nobody wants your crown
Shoulda said “s— your mum”
But then you might s— your mum and go upside down
Knew it was fake, but s— your mum anyway
Don’t care if anyone comes for mum anyway
See me in the flesh, and I’ll up my gun anyway
You just run your gums
Didn’t wanna say none
Enough of your son anyway
Mum, why you never tell your son, “Stop lying”?
Wouldn’t even ride for your bredrin dying
Thinks that he’s got one ahead, alright
Just wanted to see you and your bredrin fight
But man put who in a rizzla?
Dad don’t care where your mum and her wigs are
Didn’t really take it there but I’m nasty
Now I’m letting off at your sister
She looks like she’s ready for a wrestling match
Be surprised if anyone dicked her
Be surprised if they ain’t looking at you and your friends at family mixtures
Good mental health won’t protect that girl
Being broken, but it’s an illness
How you gonna lie about G-check?
Anything to get mob ties
I’m sick of these n—–
Don’t know how I’m wrong or deserve it, someone explain
I’ll flip at these n—–
Right now Michael’s getting what’s coming to him
I heard that Jama got suttin’ from him
But if Michael swears on Abigail’s life that he hotted me up
God’s bugging on him
‘Cause he knows you make money off him
And you are not hard, just tryna blend in
I walked out, you was there tryna smoke
Told you try me and you won’t go home (Facts)
You just said you weren’t tryna diss me
Then you told your boy to lower his tone (Facts)
They let you in the 12
I only had a plus 3
Those went home
And still nobody done s—
I swear on your family and my own at home
Why do you tell MC’s stories?
Make the next one interesting for me
Speak on me but that man raps poorly
I’m his dad, someone tump for me
I murk you, the label here
If not, they don’t know your face is there
Hip Hop, you might have the status
It’s not the one for mum’s faking here
Welcome to East
Where your girl turns to freak
And you ain’t gotta pull ’round here
If you hide from you, then she cool ’round here
And you ain’t gonna lay down rules down here
So warring me? You best look R&B
Instead of telling lies on me
Because I know you
And better yet, I know me
And I could never hide from beef (Oi, Michael)
Stormzy, s— your mum
You don’t crash
G-check who? You was begging it, shush
He just had Jorja Smith in his face
Now he’s tryna do drill songs like Woosh
You love your mum so much then swear on her life that you won’t say nuttin’ [?] beef
If I hear anymore lies on roundhouse, you’ll get a roundhouse kick in your teeth (I’ll do that)
And I heard it was a crash at roundhouse
But the crash at roundhouse weren’t me
They believe anything they hear on machines
That’s why I don’t really care about memes
Everytimes talking s— on the 5th
Gonna be friendly by the 14th
Heard that they chat about me on the 14th
But, you could never test this corner
Just did a DNA test on Big Mike again, check I’m the MC’s father
And I’m gonna send for your mum
Don’t remember your mum
We could do remembering after
Last time I sent for you man coulda ended your mum
The people that dressed in [?]
All because I knew my pen was harder
And in the 02, your friends did nada
That’s right
Flipz didn’t flip
Your chick done a d— and blamed you and left in drama
I mean grime didn’t work, you floated to gospel
Praying I don’t get you after
Used to wake up and see your face and have to face the day after
So how could you hate your father?
Yo, Stormzy, nobodies scared of you
Don’t wanna be like [?] of you
People learnt to make grime like us
People learnt to be weird like you
And in my point of view
I never really saw the point of you
Like, Novelist fair enough, that was worth it
But, I could never heard Ghetts off you
And I always knew, I was better than you (Brap)
Crud? Done crud better than you
Dubs? Done dubs better than you
Your mum, and she spits better than you
You’re mad, you ain’t as hard as me
Or brave or got the same heart as me
I know many man that clarted Maya
But none of them could give clart like me (Clart like me)

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And if you really want smoke, find me in the rasclart field
S— your f—— mum, bruv
Ever, ever, ever make me come into the studio for you ever again
To tell people, that you ain’t better than me
And I swear to God, I will write to your f—— contract into the floor bruv
Warner will phone you and tell you they don’t want no parts of you bruv
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