"A Guy Called?" lyrics
(Central Cee Diss)
And the winner is
Aitch
Influencers, they ain't contenders, jump in the booth for somethin' to do (Yeah)
Took the BRIT straight back to the ends and a little bit of bush got put in a zoot
Roll round with all of your helpers, lookin' like elves, it's funny and true
You got more money than all of your elders, lucky for me, I'm younger than you (Woo)
(Yo, uncs) We can go bar for bar
BRIT for BRIT, punch for punch (Bah)
All your songs get wrote by Clint (Prick), in the booth, one mic, two cunts
Get dissed off a guy named Oakley, wait two secs, let me light this blunt (Oakley), yeah
Grab the mic, I dare you to come, I ain't scared of a man with his hair in a bun (Yeah, yeah)
Pussio, you ain't airin' a gun, Daddy's home now, bitch, just bare with me, son (Bah, bah)
Little boy is just there to be spun, gettin' mad at the BRITs, there's bare to be won (On God)
Can't wait for your show on the ends, number-one fan, I'll be there till it's done (Ooh)
That ain't your flow, that's Kairo Keyz', mentionin' me, go ride on Rhys
Chat about P, but you didn't pay Kenza, probs 'cause she won't let you slide in cheeks
I'll punch man's head off his neck, no problem, tell him go find his teeth (Go find 'em)
Your manager's forty, wearin' a mask, are you mad? I ain't tryna be like YBeeez (Woo)
Not wrote one verse since '022, them ghostwriters made you a star (Trust)
I can't lie though, it's makin' sense 'cause we like your fit pics more than your bars (Facts)
You built most your career on image, not enough lyrics, me? I'm just goated
You got hundred man on your payroll, stood at the BRITs and none of 'em voted? (Hahahaha)
Shame, stop phoning Cora speakin' my name
Asking questions ("Did I look better than Aitch?") No, stay in your lane (Alright)
You just mad 'cause you can't be me, for the past six years, I've been openin' doors
Bringin' the BRITs up two years later, fuck my life, you should go live yours
We both know that you're Aitch-obsessed, I've been runnin' since your entrance (Skrrt)
Madeline ain't your ex (No), that's your cousin (Huh?), the resemblance (Ah)
You got Slawn lookin' like one auntie, and now Cench is shaggin' his family (Woah)
Them Timberland boots won't save ya, if I got Timbs on, I'm gettin' stampy
(Bah, bah, bah) Yeah, yo
Clint was pissed 'cause Cench got beat by a white MC, Cench is as white as me
Been racist since like '013, pussio, why did you hide them tweets? (Why?)
How can you post some racist shit, then try gettin' people to buy your tee? (No)
Everyone watch who you're championing 'cause that racist shit don't fly with me (Never)
You ain't broke, so why you still salty? (Prick) So mad, but you're rich and famous (Huh)
'Cause I live rent-free in your head, and I'm stayin' right here, I ain't worried about bailiffs (Alright)
Award goes to a guy named what? Pussio, you know what my name is
Man said 21 with a mill' (Swear)
I need the same deal as Aitch's
Pss, listen, just remember this, yeah?
I made millions off my rappin' ability
You made millions off cappin' and imagery (Hahahaha)
Aitch
Influencers, they ain't contenders, jump in the booth for somethin' to do (Yeah)
Took the BRIT straight back to the ends and a little bit of bush got put in a zoot
Roll round with all of your helpers, lookin' like elves, it's funny and true
You got more money than all of your elders, lucky for me, I'm younger than you (Woo)
(Yo, uncs) We can go bar for bar
BRIT for BRIT, punch for punch (Bah)
All your songs get wrote by Clint (Prick), in the booth, one mic, two cunts
Get dissed off a guy named Oakley, wait two secs, let me light this blunt (Oakley), yeah
Grab the mic, I dare you to come, I ain't scared of a man with his hair in a bun (Yeah, yeah)
Pussio, you ain't airin' a gun, Daddy's home now, bitch, just bare with me, son (Bah, bah)
Little boy is just there to be spun, gettin' mad at the BRITs, there's bare to be won (On God)
Can't wait for your show on the ends, number-one fan, I'll be there till it's done (Ooh)
That ain't your flow, that's Kairo Keyz', mentionin' me, go ride on Rhys
Chat about P, but you didn't pay Kenza, probs 'cause she won't let you slide in cheeks
I'll punch man's head off his neck, no problem, tell him go find his teeth (Go find 'em)
Your manager's forty, wearin' a mask, are you mad? I ain't tryna be like YBeeez (Woo)
Not wrote one verse since '022, them ghostwriters made you a star (Trust)
I can't lie though, it's makin' sense 'cause we like your fit pics more than your bars (Facts)
You built most your career on image, not enough lyrics, me? I'm just goated
You got hundred man on your payroll, stood at the BRITs and none of 'em voted? (Hahahaha)
Shame, stop phoning Cora speakin' my name
Asking questions ("Did I look better than Aitch?") No, stay in your lane (Alright)
You just mad 'cause you can't be me, for the past six years, I've been openin' doors
Bringin' the BRITs up two years later, fuck my life, you should go live yours
We both know that you're Aitch-obsessed, I've been runnin' since your entrance (Skrrt)
Madeline ain't your ex (No), that's your cousin (Huh?), the resemblance (Ah)
You got Slawn lookin' like one auntie, and now Cench is shaggin' his family (Woah)
Them Timberland boots won't save ya, if I got Timbs on, I'm gettin' stampy
(Bah, bah, bah) Yeah, yo
Clint was pissed 'cause Cench got beat by a white MC, Cench is as white as me
Been racist since like '013, pussio, why did you hide them tweets? (Why?)
How can you post some racist shit, then try gettin' people to buy your tee? (No)
Everyone watch who you're championing 'cause that racist shit don't fly with me (Never)
You ain't broke, so why you still salty? (Prick) So mad, but you're rich and famous (Huh)
'Cause I live rent-free in your head, and I'm stayin' right here, I ain't worried about bailiffs (Alright)
Award goes to a guy named what? Pussio, you know what my name is
Man said 21 with a mill' (Swear)
I need the same deal as Aitch's
Pss, listen, just remember this, yeah?
I made millions off my rappin' ability
You made millions off cappin' and imagery (Hahahaha)
Writer(s): Harrison James Armstrong, Jacob Daniel Jones, Taras Slusarenko
