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​Pick Up the Mic

This song is by JME and appears on the album Blam! (2010).

It's JME, the grime scene dweller, the online MP3 seller
The 100% true lyric teller, hand on the Bible spit accapella
I need listeners, you need a smeller 'cause your music stinks
Bite my flow and catch salmonella or get beat box like Killa Kella
Pub man ting, widda Stella, left hook, top lip sweller
Wobbly tooth, bare Bonjela, my wallet is a cheese sandwich
First I put in the bread and on top of that I put cheddar
And on top of that we're OGs, don't believe me, ask Mela

It's JME, the grime ambassador, the badboy MP3 trafficker
If you spit acid, I spit acider, you get popped like Pringles paprika
You won't spray, man you're a panicker, can't chase my status with no stamina
You get a Texas chainsaw Massacre, Modern Warfare silenced Raffica
No chaps, no chain, no manager, somehow still you're not in my caliber
My lyrics are so detailed as if I made them with a lens and an aperture
Professional, not amateur, 'cause I work all night like Dracula
If two of my Friends argue I'm on both sides like the A's in Africa

Go home, look in the mirror, realise no one's scared
You tried to diss me, no one cared, when you came radio, no one tared
You're not hench, you're not bad, you just screw up your face all weird
Tryna get hype off me you get air, tryna get hype, you get air!
You jumped out the whip, no one ran
Nobody cares what you got in your hand
Nobody cares what you got in your jeans
I'll slap you so hard I'll crack your phone screen, yo
Don't bring war to the king
Don't tell me about draw for the ting, yo
Right about now, you're heads so big
You get charged more for you're trim, safe