Another banger from Skittles’ Poor With £100 Trainers.
INTRO:
SKITTLES
- You know what time it is
- It’s time for a spliff
- Give me some cig and some Riz
- 'N a surface to work with
- You must have a roach on your person
- That return train ticket in your purse will be perfect
- So hand it over, trust me it will be worth it
- I got that sticky-picky head-fucker booker motherfucker
- Don’t believe me? Only time will determine
- So then I flip it, lick it, stick it, rip, before you even know I’ve lit it
VERSE 1:
- Listen
- It’s like spirits are high
- But so am I so my spirit is low
- And this will keep me content for 40 minutes or so
- Of which I spend most of alone
- Well not alone, but you know, ‘alone’
- Like stoned, alone
- Lights on, no one home
- Missed calls on my phone, never heard the tone
- I’m zoned
- I’m in the zone
- Tingling tongues tongue-tied biting the lips
- I ask a guy for a light to light the side of my spliff
- And he says: you can keep it if you get it to work
- I get it working, gas first, first time with a smirk
- Burn my side burn, tap my ash, a thanks in return
- And I think he knew I fancied his bird
- I advance to the curb
- Grab the taxi, stubbed it out at a third
- Now that’s cost me four draws and it hurts
- man i must be a fool like the fourth of the first
- I mean the first of the fourth
- See this shit’s perverting the course of my thoughts
- Cause I don’t think the way I used to think or drink the way I used to drink
- You think that’s a coinkidink?
- So I arrive and I re-alight
- I give the driver a fiver and say: you have a nice night, alright?
- Cause you were funny and you didn’t ask for money upfront
- Cause anyone who’s bunning a blunt ain’t running for nothing
- So I suck in my last blast, dash it and walk in the gaff
- Stash a few wraps in the door staff
- What can I say?
- MDMA pays
- That’s why I bring a whole new meaning to putting weight on your waist
- And I’m impatient cause waiting’s a waste
- I’m not sitting back watching time wasting away
- I got bare time wasters all up in my face
- And the effects of that last spliff’s fading away
CHORUS
VERSE 2: SKITTLES- Listen
- They say there’s no smoke without fire
- Well I’m fire when I smoke so I’m a smoke buyer
- It’s really easy swapping six sick sklits for a hit
- But not when some thick pricks sticking grit in the shit
- Nope
- So now the, the good bud boys we know from the north
- They wanna shot us two Gs of Blue Cheese for a score
- And I’m the type to turn my nose up at 3.4
- I shoulda thought of that when the Government warning was launched
- But we were warned, we were all warned
- We could of stocked up, bought more
- We could of bought four and half for 4 or less before the mess
- And now it’s that the good weed’s gold
- I see people feeling happy paying one-eight an 0
- Getting one-eight for an eigth with a big smile on their face
- That kid’s just been sorted out by a mate
- You know, mates rates
- But I’d be lying if I said I ain’t been buying a couple of twos at the blues to keep my rhyming in line
- Like it was fuelling my mind
- I keep improving my rhymes
- I gave up for four and a half months after the first verse
- Yep the first two’s took till just now to write
- So if you think I’m smoking now, you’re right
- I’m high as a kite
- Plus I’m fucking tired man been trying to fight sleep for nights
- That’s why daylight never seemed so bright
- So I wipe my eyes, build a spliff and reach for a light
- And try and peace together what I broke of my life last night
- Cause it was live last night
- Every man and his man was inside last night
- I was fucked and met my boy from work at five past five
- Which I find kind of funny cause that’s the same time that I arrived home last night
- Or this morning or whatever you call it
- Man’s falling asleep here talking, feeling awfully awkward
- So I’m just gonna take a walk to gather my thoughts
- And build a spliff before my system aborts
- Slightly different chorus:
- You know what time it is
- It’s time for a spliff
- Give me some cig and some Riz ‘n a surface to work with
- You must have a roach on your person
- That empty Rizla packet in your jacket will smack it
- So hand it over, rapid, top up my baccy
- I got that sticky-bicky head-fucker booker motherfucker
- Don’t believe me? Let me wrap up a fatty
- So then I flip it, lick it, stick it, rip before you even know I’ve lit it.
Get a weekly summary of UKHH lyrics in your inbox:
You know what time it is
It’s time for a spliff
Give me some cig and some Riz
n a surface to work with
You must have a roach on your person
That return train ticket in your purse will be perfect
So hand it over, trust me it will be worth it
I got that sticky-picky head-fucker booker motherfucker
Don’t believe me? Only time will determine
So then I flip it, lick it, stick it, rip, before you even know I’ve lit itListen
It’s like spirits are high
But so am I so my spirit is low
And this will keep me content for 40 minutes or so
Of which I spend most of alone
Well not alone, but you know, ‘alone’
Like stoned, alone
Lights on, no one home
Missed calls on my phone, never heard the tone
I’m zoned
I’m in the zone
Tingling tongues tongue-tied biting the lips
I ask a guy for a light to light the side of my spliff
And he says: you can keep it if you get it to work
I get it working, gas first, first time with a smirk
Burn my side burn, tap my ash, athanks in return
And I think he knew i fancied his bird
I advance to the curb
Grab the taxi, stubbed it out at a third
Now that’s cost me four draws and it hurts
man i must be a fool like the fourth of the first
I mean the first of the fourth
See this shit’s perverting the course of my thoughts
Cause I don’t think the way I used to think or drink the way I used to drink
You think that’s a coinkidink?
So I arrive and i re-alight
I give the driver a fiver and say: you have a nice night, alright?
Cause you were funny and you didn’t ask for money upfront
Cause anyone who’s bunning a blunt ain’t running for nothing
So I suck in my last blast, dash it and walk in the gaff
Stash a few wraps in the door staff
What can I say?
MDMA pays
That’s why I bring a whole new meaning to putting weight on your waist
And I’m impatient cause waiting’s a waste
I’m not sitting back watching time wasting away
I got bare time wasters all up in my face
And the effects of that last spliff’s fading awayChorus
Listen
They say there’s no smoke without fire
Well I’m fire when I smoke so I’m a smoke buyer
It’s really easy swapping six sick sklits for a hit
But not when some thick pricks sticking grit in the shit
Nope
So now the, the good bud boys we know from the north
They wanna shot us two Gs of Blue Cheese for a score
And I’m the type to turn my nose up at 3.4
I shoulda thought of that when the Government warning was launched
But we were warned, we were all warned
We could of stocked up, bought more
We could of bought four and half for 4 or less before the mess
And now it’s that the good weed’s gold
I see people feeling happy paying one-eight an 0
Getting one-eight for an eigth with a big smile on their face
That kid’s just been sorted out by a mate
You know, mates rates
But I’d be lying if I said I ain’t been buying a couple of twos at the blues to keep my rhyming in line
Like it was fuelling my mind
I keep improving my rhymes
I gave up for four and a half months after the first verse
Yep the first two’s took till just now to write
So if you think I’m smoking now, you’re right
I’m high as a kite
Plus I’m fucking tired man been trying to fight sleep for nights
That’s why daylight never seemed so bright
So I wipe my eyes, build a spliff and reach for a light
And try and peace together what I broke of my life last night
Cause it was live last night
Every man and his man was inside last night
I was fucked and met my boy from work at five past five
Which I find kind of funny cause that’s the same time that I arrived home last night
Or this morning or whatever you call it
Man’s falling asleep here talking, feeling awfully awkward
So I’m just gonna take a walk to gather my thoughts
And build a spliff before my system aborts
Slightly different chorus:
You know what time it is
It’s time for a spliff
Give me some cig and some riz n a surface to work with
You must have a roach on your person
That empty rizla packet in your jacket will smack it
So hand it over, rapid, top up my backy
I got that sticky-bicky head-fucker booker motherfucker
Don’t believe me? Let me wrap up a fatty
So then I flip it, lick it, stick it, rip before you even know I’ve lit it.
been listenin to skits for years now, read through your rendidtion and noticed a few mistakes, im from manchester so the slang is easier for me.
good attempt tho. safe
Props for that mate. Keep ’em coming. (Lyrics updated)