(Put your fingers in your nose
Have a little dig about
See what you find
All bunged up)
[Verse 1]
Mister fickle as fate
I'm still sick and depraved
With a pick and a spade
I sit diggin' a grave
Man you don't even need to read the ink on my page
You can see the truth written in my grimacing face
When I
Listen to the sh** that you made
There's six million ways to piss in your face
So choose one
My whole crews coming through unscrewed
Singin' f** you, you, f** you and f** you
Its who?
Mr. Key from the SMB
Not the type a prick to claim that I'm the best MC
See who wants to be an MC (not me!)
Some people seem to think that that's a bit off-key
But I drop a freestyle whenever wherever
Mashed up on acid tabs chatting bare cheddar
For the fun of it
Another grubby kid from the rubbish tip
I love to spit give a f** you can s** a dick
If I'm f**ing sh** spit bars on the jokes one
If you ain't havin' no fun go home, son you're so glum
(Wahh!)
Can't remember why you rate this
But reckon your the greatest
I reckon I'm degenerate and wasted
And still come heavier than anything I'm faced with
Yes I'm an escapist
The sweaty little ape
Steppin' in and disrespecting everything you rate
[Chorus]
So put your fingers in your nose
If you love hip-hop
And if you don't rate that
You can s** this co*k
I be picking in my bogies and crusty snot
Disgusting slugs and slobs
Blowin' up your spot
[Chorus 2]
So put your fingers in your nose
If you love hip-hop
And if you don't rate that
You can s** this co*k
I be digging through my bogies and crusty snot
Disgusting slugs and slobs
What the f** you got
[Verse 2]
I'm the opposite type
A hot rock in the pipe
The hobgoblin
Eyes shot wobblin' by
I wipe my snot rocks on the work that i write
Got proper supply and stop rocking the mic
A lot of the time you see me floppin' its fine
Rock shows so f**ed I forgot all my lines
And so what?
(Your show's f**ed!)
Yeah your probably right
But it's two for a fiver on bottles of white
And three for seven quid (Aw yeah!)
Lets go twos on that and start there
Those brehs that'd know me
Nobody knows me
I'm home alone with a nose full of bogies
And bogus show ponies
I've thrown in my chokey
I can throw blows like a focused shinobi
And bling is for the posies, posers and phonies
Acting the twat at the rap karaoke show
So let's go toe to toe
But I thrown no blows, man I blow my nose
Overdose, the bunged up piss artiste
Mr. Key pickin' boogers like Biz Markie