Music Video

Going Through It
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Skepta
Skepta
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Joseph Junior Adenuga
Joseph Junior Adenuga
Songwriter
Stewart Mullings
Stewart Mullings
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
IndigoChildRick
IndigoChildRick
Producer
Skepta
Skepta
Producer

Lyrics

Going 'round and 'round Sex, money, murder Everyone, sex, money, murder And it happens again and again Bro, just chill out You got what you had to Fucking asking me how I am Yeah, cool, fam Man, I've been going through it Been keeping it too real Man, I've been going through it I don't wanna talk about it I don't wanna get into it Party going stupid soon as I step into it Ask about me, they tell you I'm one of the best to do it And I know they don't like me But they gotta respect the music Got somethin' in the glove compartment And I won't pet to use it She told me her favourite song Now we just sexing to it The bass bumping Turn it up loud, neighbours ain't saying nothin' Everyday's my birthday Everyday manna cake cutting New chain, dripping in water, got the place flooded Bruce Wayne, top of the building Man I see them coming She's got the big back Look at the jeans busting Picked her up in a Wraith Just look at the babe blushing Said I'll be here at seven o' clock, well now it's eight something Gotta get more organised, cah fam, I hate rushing Man, I keep getting caught up Showing love to everybody Man, I been going through it, tryna make 'em see the vision Try to explain myself, that was the worst decision Thought that I could change the world Turn me into a villain Gotta learn to practice silence, follow my intuition Stayed in the house, phone number off limits Stress on the brain, complain But I know that it's all self-inflicted Man, I gotta take a break I'm gonna need a minute Soon as I catch a vibe Somebody tryna kill it Boy, stop it Never seen you putting your hand in your pocket Time to pay the bill I know you can't find your wallet Where were you in the trenches when the opps were tryna bomb it? Now you're coming around And niggas tryna get the gossip I put in the work, get the bag and split the profit And if I'm honest, I know that I should be modest But I don't see no competition in the game and I'm pissing on it If it ain't about the family Then I'm ghost and that's a promise Niggas need to wake up Trust I blew out the candles Everybody scream my name Told me to make a wish Look at what I became Look how they look at me Never gonna be the same Said they wanna be like me You don't know what you're saying Always been a daredevil Man, I was born from pain They say ignorance is bliss But I think that's a shame Bird Box, you don't wanna see this boy get out in the rain Stay inside, I'll be fine Man, I got myself to blame Man, I've been going through it Oh my days, what the fuck? He's not good for you, he's really not He's a fucking mad head He's not listening It's like talking to a brick wall I'm telling you, he's a fucking mad head
Writer(s): Joseph Junior Adenuga, Stewart Mullings Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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