We're going to keep it nice and lively, nice and London-town.
Let's roll.
This ain't the down, it's the upbeat.
Make it complete.
So what's the story?
Guaranteed accuracy and hand CD.
Latest technology.
Darts at treble 20.
Huge and unrepeatable advance.
Majors be vigilant.
By excelling both content and deliverance.
So let's put on our classics.
No sales pitch.
No media hype.
No hydro.
It's nice and right.
I speak in communications.
Equal type.
This ain't the archetypal street sound.
Scan for ultrasounds.
North, south, east, west, north round.
And then to the underground.
They say that everything sounds the same.
Then you go by them.
There's no excuses.
I'm there.
Let's push things forward.
They say that everything sounds the same.
Keeping it nice and lively.
Then you go by them.
There's no excuses.
I'm there.
Leo, tell them.
Let's push things forward.
As we progress to the checkpoint, I wholeheartedly agree with your viewpoint.
But this ain't your typical garage joint.
Ah, mate, points to insult significance.
That ain't a bag, it's a shipment.
This ain't a track, it's a movement.
I got the settlement.
My frequencies are transient and resonate your eardrums.
I make bangers, not anthems.
Leave that to the artful Dodger.
Broad-shouldered, 51% shareholder.
You won't find us in Alta Vista.
Copra, Signa, Mescala.
You're gonna need more power.
Plug in a three-phase and a generator.
Crank it up to the gigawatts.
Critics ready for your butt shots.
Pluck thickens.
Put on your mittens for these sub-zero conditions.
But remember I'm just spitting.
Remember I'm just spitting.
Once bitten, forever smitten.
Tell em.
They say not everything sounds the same.
On planet Earth.
Make you go by them.
Make you go by them.
There's no excuses, my friend.
Ha!
Let's push things forward.
They say not everything sounds the same.
Make you go by them.
DJ Fred.
There's no excuses, my friend.
Skyrock.
Let's push things forward.
Spit jewels like Eastern riches.
Junkie fixes.
Around here we'd say.
Burst and riches.
As London Bridge burns down.
Brixton's burning up.
Oi!
Turns out you're a Loxon Otis.
Pussy in the ducts.
So it's just another show flick.
From your local sea poet.
In case you geezers don't know it.
Let's push things forward.
It's a tall order but we're taller.
Calling all brawlers.
Backstreet brawlers.
Corner shop brawlers.
Beatrix Brawler.
Sham the B-side.
Love us or hate us.
But don't slay us.
We don't conform to formulas.
Pop genres are such.
Sharp dance.
Double dots.
Park cars.
Troubles and mops.
With more bod.
Oi! Oi!
Let's push things forward.
Pani Rass.
See that everything sounds the same.
Then you go by them.
There's no excuses, my friend.
Ha!
Let's push things forward.
They say that everything sounds the same.
Then you go by them.
There's no excuses, my friend.
Woo!
Let's push things forward.
That's about the sound system.
They say things sound the same.
That's about the sound system.
We've got to push things forward.
I'm gonna drop this one.
People who pass in legislation
are about to know I like Ganja Man.
Urba the healing of the nation.
So all Ganja Man put up your spliff now.
People who pass in legislation
are about to know I like Ganja Man.
Urba the healing of the nation.
So all Ganja Man put up your spliff now.
Planet Rap, put it up.
If you're burning in your car,
open the window, let the smoke pour out mate.
Skyrap, DJ Freddy,
oh let's push things forward.
Astrony drum machine providing the rhythm.
Skyrap, Planet Rap, DJ Freddy,
That's about the size of me.
So all Ganja Man put up your spliff now.
Let's push things forward now.
Let's push things forward now.