text: Take Me Back To London Lyrics
  Jet plane headed up to the sky
  Spread wings in the clouds, getting high
  We aint hit a rave in a while
  So take me back to London 
  I do deals, but I never get twanged 
  Moves that aint ever been planned 
  No goons that were never in gangs 
  Where Im from, chat shit get banged 
  Where Im from, chat shit, let a 12 gauge rip
  Yeah, its sick how it fits in my hand 
  I dont mix with the glitz and the glam 
  All these stupid pricks on the Gram
  I dont do online beef, or neeky grime beef
  Im way too Gd up to beef with grime neek
  I bought an AP to help me time keep
  My shooter ride deep, he moves when I speak
  My shooter ride , he shoot a guy 
  Leave you wet like you scuba dived
  We were younger then and now were unified
  South London boys, get you crucified, Im gone
  Its that time
  Big Mike and Teddy are on grime
  I wanna try new things, they just want me to sing
  Because nobody thinks I write rhymes
  And now Im back in the bits with my guy
  Give me a packet of crisps with my pint
  I hit my friends up, go straight to the pub
  Cause I havent been home in time, yes, I
  But thats my fault 
  Grossed half a billi on the Divide Tour 
  Yes, I aint kidding, what would I lie for? 
  But now Im back on the track with Big Michael 
  He said, Teddy, never get off your high horse
  And never let em take your crown
  Ive been away for a while, travelled a million miles
  But Im heading back to London town right now
  Jet plane headed up to the sky 
  Spread wings in the clouds, getting high 
  We aint hit a rave in a while 
  So take me back to London
  Bass high, middle nights, ceilin low 
  Sweat brow drippin down, when in Rome 
  No town does it quite like my home 
  So take me back to—
  Birmingham, 0121 stand up!
  You better tell them the hooligans here
  My team cant lose when Im here
  Outside, quick twos and a beer
  You see me when I choose to appear
  Just paid a few bag for my carpet
  Blud, take off your shoes when youre here
  Yo, I can turn boos into cheers
  Tiptronic man cruise through the gears
  Rep blues when Im here
  Its Brum
  Fam, are you dumb?
  Red red wine or you want a redrum
  You can be forty, you dont wanna war me
  End of story, youre gunna get spun
  Man smoke weed til my whole heads numb
  Dont talk greaze cos I wont take none
  VIP in my own section
  Wild, wild west with the old western, its Brum!
  Old school raving, back to scally
  And the AP, packed with gally
  Take me back to Manny
  Blacked out Roll full of yack and maggy
  And a S3 boot full of packs of Cali
  Hit the booth, man, slap it snappy
  Bap bap, thats that, track wrapped, Im happy
  Some man are blessed, some are bad and trappy
  Gets cold up north, pack your hat and trackie
  Huh, man was made to set pace
  Young Aitch, I came for first place
  Made a change to get paid
  Fam, I stayed in my lane and came with that flame
  Day to day we on stage
  Make my K, then I skate and catch the next plane
  Baking up when I wake
  Rake it up, get it saved
  Its make it or break
  Its make it or break
  Human man, still make a mistake
  Mad now Aitch just made a mixtape
  Told Jaykae to make the next eight
  We bout to set pace, I cant get about no more it gets bait
  And I dont get head no more, I get face
  She dont want him no more, she wants Jay
  And she dont want me no more, she wants Aitch 
  Jaykae, make a lot of P 
  Go straight there if thats where Ive got to be
  Wait, stop, pop my collar, Im a G
  5 million minimum, what I wanna see
  I aint in it for the money, put that to bed
  Tell mumsy that Im on a track with Ed
  Aim this one at your head
  Write bars with a pen on a pad when the batterys dead
  Jet plane headed up to the sky 
  Spread wings in the clouds, getting high 
  We aint hit a rave in a while 
  So take me back to London 
  Bass high, middle nights, ceilin low
  Sweat brow drippin down, when in Rome
  No town does it quite like my home 
  So take me back to London4Embed