[Intro: Roots Manuva]
More vibe, more vibe, more vibe, more pressure, more vibe
Who's that? Who's that?
More vibe, more vibe, more vibe, more pressure, more vibe
Who's that? Who's that?
[First Verse: Roots Manuva]
Overblown inna the zone, come check the poet
Natural shiznit and nobody to show it
Step up to the bar and the clean girls know
My incredible vedible, my new talk tongue
Most cool when the world seems highly strung
Sit dung (down) inna the corner and me beat me drum
Me soon get the vision of the big lump sum
Its Saturday morning, you're playing the lottery
It could be you, it could be me
Fuck that, let's get this plan together
We were born to go live in a place
With nice weather
Bishi bashment crew, just push up your hands
Bishi bashment crew, just study your band
Bishi bashment crew, go'head go get grands
Bishi bashment crew, go'head go get land
Fire fluid in my belly, I'm flaming hot
??? Ayyo me do something me hustle, this is all your crops
We take that to the roll for just two G a pop
I hear them say Manuva sound like money
And ain't it funny, reflecting on the drama it took to get hook up
Big tings gwaan for us now
Each time we come we get dangerous now
I paid my dues in community studios
Late night sessions I refined my flows
I got to bring in from the good fire, the fee marshall
I'm mackin to the modes in my council flat castle,
And we don't partial! Whos the rascal?
I wont ask you for...
[Chorus: Ricky Rankin]
Don't want a fuss so me say turn with the fight now
Me say the ghetto make me horny at night now
Look in the window and the earth get around now
I say you rocking to the champion sound now
[Repeat 2x]
[Second Verse: Roots Manuva]
More style, more vibe, niceness we bring
You hear me MC now me going try sing
Simmer down, every posse just simmer down
Go get the pound!
Max relax now, we nuh want stress
Some of them inna sequin, some inna string vest
Bashment boogie, we dress fi impress
Step out the bath and me smell well fresh
Splash on cologne and we ready fi bone
First thing we do, we have fi pick up da phone
Yo Gordon G, I beg you, don't make me late
The coach is gonna leave about quarter past eight
Pack my backdrop, pack my dubplate
Pure love we get when we step through the gate
Roots fi disco deh pon the go
Step inna the room and everybody know
We cream we toe and cream we elbow
Gang like we, ???we bad than po po!
[Chorus: Ricky Rankin]
Don't want a fuss so me say turn with the fight now
Me say the ghetto make me horny at night now
Look in the window and the earth get around now
I say you rocking to the champion sound now
[Repeat 2x]
[Outro: Ricky Rankin]
Sound like surcharge, ah yeah dem was big and large
Man nuh use no camoflage
People here and people there and people almost everywhere
Uh-huh
All corners of South London was rammed
East London was jammed
Lemme tell you, one of days
My God!
Jesus Christ, we nice
Sweet like sugar
Love like the spice
You know that
