Take Me Back To London

Album: No. 6 Collaborations Project (2019)
Charted: 1
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  • Jet plane headed up to the sky
    Spread wings in the clouds, getting high
    We ain't hit a rave in a while
    So take me back to London

    I do deals, but I never get twanged (twanged)
    Moves that ain't ever been planned (planned)
    Know goons that were never in gangs (gangs)
    Where I'm from, chat shit get banged (what?)
    Where I'm from, chat shit, let a 12 gauge rip
    Yeah, it's sick how it fits in my hand (hand)
    I don't mix with the glitz and the glam (glam)
    All these stupid pricks on the 'Gram
    I don't do online beef, or neeky grime beef
    I'm way too G'd 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 (ride), he shoot a guy (guy)
    Leave you wet like you scuba dived
    We were younger then and now we're unified
    South London boys, get you crucified, I'm gone

    It's 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 I'm 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 haven't been home in time, yes, I
    But that's my fault (oh)
    Grossed half a billi' on the Divide Tour (oh)
    Yes, I ain't kidding, what would I lie for? (Oh)
    But now I'm back on the track with Big Michael (whoa)
    He said, "Teddy, never get off your high horse
    And never let 'em take your crown"
    I've been away for a while, traveled a million miles
    But I'm heading back to London town, right now

    Jet plane headed up to the sky (to the sky)
    Spread wings in the clouds, getting high (woo, woo)
    We ain't hit a rave in a while (in a what?)
    So take me back to London
    Bass high, middle nights, ceilin' low (ceilin' low)
    Sweat brow drippin' down, when in Rome (when in Rome)
    No town does it quite like my home (they don't)
    So take me back to

    Birmingham, 0121, stand up
    You better tell them the hooligan's here
    My team can't lose when I'm 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 you're here
    Yo, I can turn boos into cheers
    Trip chunning man choose for the gears
    Rep blues when I'm here, it's Brum
    Fam, are you dumb?
    Red red wine or you want a redrum
    You can be forty, you don't wanna war me
    End of story, you're gunna get spun
    Man smoke weed 'til my whole head's numb
    Don't talk greaze 'cause I won't take none
    VIP in my own section
    Wild wild west with the old western, it's 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 maggot
    And a S3 boot full of packs of Cali
    Hit the booth, man, slap it, snap it
    Bap bap, that's that, trap, rap to mappy
    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 cake, then I skate and catch the next plane
    Baking up when I wake
    Rake it up, get it saved, it's make it or break

    It's 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 can't get about no more it gets bait
    And I don't get head no more, I get face
    She don't want him no, more she wants Jay
    And she don't want me no more she wants Aitch (aye)
    Jaykae, make a lot of P (uh)
    Go straight there if that's where I've got to be
    Wait, stop, pop my collar, I'm a G
    5 million minimum, what I wanna see
    And anything, I'm gonna put that to bed
    Tell mumsy that I'm on a track with Ed
    Aim this one at your head
    Write bars with a pen on a pad when the battery's dead

    Jet plane headed up to the sky (0161)
    Spread wings in the clouds, getting high (0121)
    We ain't hit a rave in a while (London City)
    So take me back to London (woo)
    Bass high, middle nights, ceilin' low
    Sweat brow drippin' down, when in Rome
    No town does it quite like my home (like my home)
    So take me back to London

    So take me back to London Writer/s: Edward Christopher Sheeran, Frederick John Philip Gibson, Harrison James Armstrong, Janum Khan, Karl Johan Schuster, Max Martin, Michael Ebenazer Kwadjo Omari Owuo Junior
    Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind


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