The Great British Bar Off

DevlinDevlin 

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Devlin

James Devlin (born 7 May 1989), better known mononymously as Devlin, is an English rapper and street rat from Dagenham, East London, England signed to Island Records. Part of Grime collective 'O.T Crew' with Dogzilla, Deeperman, M. Eye, Benson, Kozy, Syer Bars and Daze. Devlin was also a member of The Movement, consisting of himself, Wretch 32, Scorcher, Ghetts, Lightning, Mercston and DJ Unique but has since left for reasons unknown. more »

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It's Dirty Devils and Edward Scissors
Like an equation, it figures
We're off the scale, but not sheddin' our skins like lizards
Too cold when we walk through the blizzard
With no hat, coat, or gloves for our digits
It's been a long, long road, no fibbin'
Goes so quick though, excuse me
Like a sick note, but it don't get bigger
I'm the realest, I'm a killer with the lyrics
Just look back at SBTV, and you'll see
Takin' the scene to where it hadn't been
My brother Jamal, he can rest in peace
Just knowin' you helped man get where they're goin'
All makes sense in the mind of a poet
I owe it to keep on going
Like a life of the bars don't cease
I'll give an arm and a leg
One deep, while I'm draggin' this beat to a depth
I'm Mariana Trench
And thinkin', holdin' my breath, until I feel 3-2 like Wretch
Until my last bastard breath
I'ma cut man down on a barberous flex
Who the f*ck wanna spar with a vet?
I'm Alexander the Great when I'm marchin' on armies again
I got a spring in my step
Slinky when it goes down, like Monica Lewinsky
I'll be right here in the thick, they can diss me
But they'll get flung like a frisbee
If what you chattin' is wet
Miss me, bitch, please
Erich von Däniken couldn't even question my history
Been spittin' like I was an M16
You might wanna run and take cover when I'm lettin' go another
Send a letter to your ma, that's word to your mother
Too Stella, I'm a star
When at least in the gutter
Yo, Dagnarm
I'm still the same twisted fucker
To run through the game, then rep for the borough
And there ain't no name that can make me shudder
Woke by a clock, and I wouldn't be alarmed
Nah
Sheero, how about you hit 'em with a bar?

'Bout time, you've been spittin' for a minute and a half
Gotta stretch my legs, I'm just sittin' on the charts
People may just think I just sing with guitar
I'm at home with a start like I'm livin' in the past
Writin' these lyrics while I'm sippin' on a glass of the darkest Guinness with an Irish heart
Three passports, one of them red, two of them blue
Lived Finsbury, and Stock Newington too
'Bout to witness the rise of the young gun
Who's been listenin' to Devz when the channel was you
Was Tales From The Crypt on my screen
'Til we met, kickstarted a dream
It was bud, sweat, and beers, watchtower then appeared
Now it's back to back bars on a beat, I've missed this
Just a spitter from Ipswitch
Back on OT business
On time, I'm not overly tryin'
But on tracks like this, a bit of soul is required
It's been too long, but I been stokin' the fires
Still comin' with heat like I'm holdin' an iron
I remember when I was just told to be quiet
Now I'm pretty sure no one's colder than I am
'Cept maybe Devs
I take big strides, f*ck baby steps
I can't do a thing, they won't hate me less
These lungs make money, so I save my breath
Put me in the ring, I can take the best
Gloves on, gloves off
Don't blink, did he win? He must have
Fly on around the world, but it used to be a bus stop
Came in the booth, 'cause I had to blow the dust off
Now what's what?

The flow's too skippy, no hopscotch
You know I hot-step
Through hell and burn my own socks off
Make it bang like I'm tryna get my rocks off
The pretty girl's ugliest friend couldn't cockblock
Glock-load, I give 'em both barrels like lockstock
Now it's on top
The star on the Christmas tree when me and Ed Sheeran rip this beat
And like Kendrick Lamar, this dick ain't free
I'm a difficult man with a sky-high festival fee
Had to make it happen for myself to believe
Open the door for the new generation, but they don't see who we help them to be
Me and Devlin showed you what yourself could achieve
Fifteen years, and we're still here
Still comin' raggo, and we're still weird
When Jamal passed, cried real tears
Without that man, I wouldn't be here
Now my first week numbers, they still fear
Just real-life shit, no films here
Ain't gonna see Stephen Spiel' here
We took it from nothing to something, who's leavin' us killed here?
No one or nothing
I know that they're bluffin'
Make buildings shake like an 8.8 earthquake
So you might wanna hold onto something
Tell 'em all the general's comin'
Chat on the rooftop
Two killers on a tune, what?
All these other men are too soft
Don't remind me of Dylan or Marley
But regardless, they're two Bob
Was a young gun, but we're still on, Lewi White
Been here so long, guess I'm doin' somethin' alright
F*ck a TomTom, drop a pin and get bowled over
Salty lyrics, with a chip on my shoulder
Anyone that hates me will get run over
Can't remember when I was sober
Drink to warm the heart when days are colder
Try to drown the pain inside I'm holdin'
People I don't love, that do the most, and
Why you actin' like you're fuckin' know me?
You weren't there when I played empty shows, and
Wonderin' when the songs were gonna blow, but
We kept marchin' on, 'cause we are soldiers
Always been the hardest and the coldest
Used to sleep on Jimmy Devlin's sofa
Now he looks at you, like bro, I told ya
Why, because we're Ryders like Winnona
Type of rhymes to find inside my folder
Might incite the minds, and break the mold, I'm
Out of sight, I stand alone, a loner
Mr Grey, but here with no Dakota
Flip the pain and rip the game, I told ya
Way back when I was the coldest younger
Nowadays, call me the coldest older
It's criminal how
People just expect me to give it all out
Singin' or rappin', I'm killin' em, wow
'Cause I got bars like criminal now
Think 'cause I got kids, I'm simmerin' down?
Onslaught of records, I'm bringin' 'em out
I heard all the subliminals
But the men are minimal, don't make me laugh out loud
Yo, bro, calm down
It's criminal when
I don't hear no new original men
Think that I sound the same with content
Think you must not know Jim at all then
What'd you want, a song written, a rap tune, a grime bar?
Versatility with a pen
F*ck, I'm all like Milwall
I'm here in a lion's den, and I'm hungry again
I represent for the gingers
Got fire on my head, and it spits out
Sit down, and then f*ck your column in inches
Five stars, even if the critics don't give this
Eleven out of ten on my worst days
But they didn't believe it in the first place
Check what the flowers on the hearse say
R.I.P to your worst rhyme
My rise is a curse to remind you
I'm here
Comin' for the best ain't a good idea
It's only sickness and God is all I fear
All this money couldn't dry those tears
When real life happens, it's irreversible
Outside a career, when it's personal
When the outcome of life is worse than you fear
Nothing can fix that
Still each year, we're comin' fresher than Tic-Tacs
Somehow it fits when the genres are mismatch
People lookin' in, like I'm livin' in a fish tank
You' got opinions, you know where to stick that
Go fill a tortilla with crap
Keep comin' with your shit raps
You man are get bitch-slapped, by some bitch that I bitch-slapped when I was high on a spliff
And a six pack, and a bitch back
When I did not give a f*ck
When me and Ed went back to back on these tracks
When we walked 'round Dagenham, drunk
2010, startin' with Example's tour
Now we're 64, then 64 more
Bond that won't break, harder than it's ever been
Let 'em reminisce, Ed and Devlin

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