Guess Who Lyrics

Guess Who - R.B.D.

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Chale the bass small. Turn it up.

Then I base small for this rap game.

Wey you force play like baseball, make e go down like timber.

E be like your mouth be some chainsaw.

I brought y’all pain sɔn. Cut your face off.

On the mic I go be your calendar then number your days all.

Turn into a monster like Nebuchadnezzar. Flopped on stage once.

Not anymore cos chale I turned over a new leaf and so I tore that page off.

“But say why you behave so? That was a golden chance!”

Yeah, and I burned that opportunity like fake gold.

I dey come reclaim throne.

Yeah I’m back, right? (Write) Left — like Arabic — bro my lyrics make you shake (Sheikh).

So I’m going for the throats of the poor scapegoats.

I go make thema lives short like grass.

Make you no try escape G.O.A.T.

The black and white boys know on the mic I made ghosts every time I came to Cape Coast.

It’s the lyrical smooth criminal who’s moonwalking on the beat.

I for start dey rep bars for the moon top cos chale ma arm strong.

I know you missed me but I needed that motherfucking space like I’m Armstrong.

Hook:

Shwɛmɔ nɛɛ kraa

Mɛni yɔɔ mli? Mɛni nɔɔ?

Mɛni yɔɔ mli? Mɛni nɔɔ?

Mɛni yɔɔ mli? Mɛni? Mɛni?

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This rap go take your time like I was born of thieves.

Cos when I take the mic it’s awesome.

Your boredom leaves. Like it’s part of a tree.

When I record, all leave.

Else I leave ‘em frozen like statues.

A gorgon scene.

And even when they fall like Autumn leaves, I don’t stop until they’re cold like when the Autumn leaves.

I eat rappers when I’m bored.

And it seems I can’t have enough of a murder.

A spawn of greed.

I have strict parents. But kinda like a baby from a miscarriage, you could say their lil baby is a spoilt child.

A small child with a big ass brain will make you need aspirin, when I bring your racing thoughts to a halt. Ah!

What the fuck you saying, bitch? Shut your mouth and feed it pills.

You competed but you were defeated still.

They say when I murder a rapper it’s like a fetus killed.

Cos he looks fucking vulnerable.

“Chale you’re mean as hell.”

Ma guy you see this ill ni*** back in the booth with bleeding skills and no fucking Achilles heel?

He’s cold blooded to the bone.

And I hope you’re not cold blooded.

I’m about to drown you in cold flows like you need to chill.

So whaddup?

Hook:

Shwɛmɔ nɛɛ kraa

Mɛni yɔɔ mli? Mɛni nɔɔ?

Mɛni yɔɔ mli? Mɛni nɔɔ?

Mɛni yɔɔ mli? Mɛni? Mɛni?

Shwɛmɔ nɛɛ kraa, mɛni nɔɔ?

Mɛni yɔɔ mli? Mɛni nɔɔ?

Mɛni yɔɔ mli? Mɛni nɔɔ?

Mɛni yɔɔ mli? Mɛni? Mɛni?

:

So have you ever heard a ghost rapping?

Nope? Then bro, strap in. No slacking.

I dey come take you through this rollercoaster I’ve been.

Them dey bell me RBD. Muhfucker I was flier than RVP.

But this Flying Dutchman never land as he left the fucking Coast.

Captain Davy Jones. Blackened Soul.

No capping. Go track him.

“You no go find shit.”

Was glad he chose rap instead of law cos bitch he rose crapping on competition.

Flows slappin’. Bro’s rapping (wrapping) dope rap in prose — trapping.

Made ‘em overdose. ‘Tsappenin’ bitch?

So how the law dey go?

Pretending you’re fulfilled but you miss me on a low.

That’s what you get when you sell out on your bros.

I know say you dey miss all your hoes.

All your hoes thema flowers wet but you spoil your hose.

Fucking coward. I know it’s me you’re scared to be.

It’s hurting me how I thought I’ll be married to the game until I died — or she died and I get the curtesy.

You never did me the courtesy.

Of late wey e dey occur to me.

Why give me to a world that ain’t heard of me then stab me in the motherfucking back and murder me?

You’re hurting me. Hurting me with no basis.

Your only dope agent.

Bringing the apocalypse. But you stopped your lips moving like a fucking stroke patient.

But howdy it’s the party pooper.

You dawgs giving false wags, pretending you’re excited to see me.

You dey force waa.

What the fuck you call swag?

You homies no know fuad.

You know me. I’m coming for you phonies like the fraud squad.

Alarm ringing. It’s time to start spitting outta control.

Ma tongue singing a dirge for competition.

But if they’re not quitting, then I’m thinking Scott Pilgrim — me against the world.

Baby, I’m winning.

I’m not kidding, I’m storming your whole fucking city like Godzilla.

This Hip Hop filler that I’m bringing is for your ears only.

I hope you hear, homie. This rap is for your fears.

Only listen if you’re confident.