The Dinger

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Prompt / Lyrics
UK DRILL REMIX: TOUCH MAN'S P'S (THE DINGER INTERLUDE)

(Feat. The Coldest)

[INTRO - Heavy 808 Slide, Glock Cocking Sound, Filtered Ad-libs]

AD-LIB (Deep Voice, Pitch Shifted): Bow! Grrr! Mad!
ARTIST 1 (Aggressive, Quick):
Tryna touch man's P's?
Tryna touch man's P's?
Tryna touch man's P's?
Who's paging me at five forty-six, rudeboy, are you taking the piss?
Crack of dawn, still yawning, man’s vexed for this.
Wipe the cold out my eye, see who's ringing my line, G, and why.
(Five AM, why?)

[VERSE 1 - The Warning]

ARTIST 2 (Calm but Menacing):
It’s my young boy, Pop, from the corner shop—he heard the whole plot.
Said he was lurking 'round the strip and heard the intricate plot.
Some man wanna splash me, tryna lay me on the floor, fam.
Slow down, G, you better chill, man's droppin' the plan.
Remember all your yutes from the hill up in Southside?
Nah, them my brothers, nah, fam, they wouldn't disrespect.
I didn’t say them.
But they schooled me to some opps that you knew from back when.
When you were clockin' minor digits, now they heard you're getting bread,
Blowin' up like nitro—they wanna put the shank through your windpipe, dead.
(Woosh!)
So, thank Fam for warnin' me, 'cause now I'm warnin' you:
I got the mash ready, Big L, tell me what you gonna do?

[HOOK / CHORUS - Repetitive & Hard]

(Artist 1 & 2, Aggressive Triplet Flow)
Damn, why they tryna touch man's P's? (Why?!)
Damn, why they tryna touch man's P's? (Touch the bread!)
Damn, why they tryna touch man's P's? (Get done!)
Damn, why they tryna touch man's P's? (Bow! Bow!)

[VERSE 2 - The Stature and the Defence]

ARTIST 1 (Colder, Assertive):
They heard about the Rollie, the new whip, the four-door,
And they heard I got half of London locked down, my friend. (It's true.)
They even heard about the crib I bought my mumzy, out in the States—
That's Fifth Corridor, better call the coroner, mate.
There’s gonna be a lot of slow singing and flower bringing
If my burglar alarm starts ringing.
What ya' think all the corn is for? (Corn!)
All-purpose war, got the Rottweilers by the door.
I feed 'em powder so they can devour
The criminals tryna drop my decimal.
Damn, yutes wanna ching man for my cream?
It ain't a dream, fam, things ain't always what they seem.
It's the man dem that smoke with ya', see your picture,
Now they wanna grab the nine and come and get ya'.
Bet ya', Jagga B won't slip—I got the Calico with the black talons loaded in the clip.
So I can rip through the ligament, put their bodies in a bad predicament,
Where all the foul people went.
Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta. (Grrr!)

[BRIDGE - Escalation of Violence]

ARTIST 2 (Spoken/Rap, Darker Tone):
But what I'ma hit you with, your first reaction is to duck.
I bring pain, bloodstains on what remains
Of his jacket—he had a shank, he shoulda packed it.
Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket,
So I can reload and explode on your arsehole.
I mess around and get hardcore,
C4 to your front door, no beef no more. (Clear!)
[speak] jagga bootz