The Great British Bar Off lyrics - Devlin & Ed Sheeran

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 growin'

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 fuck 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 for 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 star 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

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, fuck 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 of

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 cock block

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

When it's so long, guess I'm doin' somethin' alright

Fuck 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 Winona

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

Fuck, 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 fuck 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 fishtank

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 fuck

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