Swet Shop Boys - Phone Tap Lyrics

SSB shit, Redinho, Riz MC, Heemy Heemy, Swet Shop Boys

Heemy Heemy
I'm Queens born and bred
But Brooklyn where I make my bread and
Long island where I make my bed though
New York where I lay my head yo
F*ck around and play you dead
Because we don't really play too fair yo
You not there when you say you there
Bro you not there where they pay you there
Trying to give Shivani a stack for Rahki
I'm at the crib and I'm watching Rocky
Momma on the phone and she yelling it's Vaisakhi
Hit the gurdwara where the saag is sloppy
His family from India but Riz Pakistani
My family from Pakistan I'm Hindu-Punjabi
Where we come from it's just fields of poppies
That get processed, packaged, shipped to papi

I know they're tapping up my camera phone
I hear weird noises when mans at home
I hold down a high standard but I stand alone
Mispronounce my name but not my dough
It's not a cannelloni

Rizzy like the brown Eddie Snowden
Shit is getting scary if you got a teddy: Hold him
Rizzy speaks like Wikileaks investigations
Spit paan like it's Panama papers
Whether out in Kingsbury
Or down in Queens Jamaica
I'm out at Heemy's temple like: "Yo
Let me meet your maker"
We're the same cuz
Jedi, Jew or Hindu Sikh
From East African plains like guji refugees

SSB for my youth then to breath
Let's get free, let's get truth
Who's next to move shit
Who me?
I do it for my nephew and my naani
My dough sweet like peshwari
But my beef like Afghani

Rizzy they got our phone tapped
What the hell we finna do?
Oi meet me round Pak Punjab Deli around two
Yo they infiltrate the mosque
Tap the phones the boys in blue
And the FBI sting trying to poison up the youth
The youth?
It's entrapment
They tap us like we're trapping
Pakistani with a pact they
Trap us like we packing
If your skin's tan they'll shift man so no slacking
Gatwick out to Staten
Chattanooga out to Chatham
They put the alphabet boys on our case
NSA, CIA, want to put us in our place
Pull up in a Wraith in the mirror it's the jakes
No new friends in case they're undercover snakes
Stares on the plane, guess it's just another day
Skrrt
FBI, TSA a high speed chase
I can't breath, call me Elon, I need space
I got expensive tastes, passports in the safe

Yeah, keep swearing, keep swearing!
I've prohibited you, haven't I?
You said it in Four Lions, and now you're saying it in your rapping as well.
Stop swearing and write a song about your mom
Who knows what kinds of things he's listening to.
Listen to your 2Pac, listen to your West Side.
Listen to them and learn something.
Look after yourself, goodbye. Don't miss namaz, ok?
Be a good man, alright? Good lad, ok, goodbye