[Monkey Teef, Mixtape]
This is not for the hype kids
Not for the mixed up, wish they wasn't white kids
This is for the pissed up, give a f**
Fist up, gi's a hug
Quits, dope dealers or right dicks, my lot
Put you in a tight spot, blinded
White merch snatched from the pint top
Find it a little bit frightening
Walking with the apes, man have superpowers
Sound should be walking with a cape
Gyal are looking up at John, like “what a don”
How many of them educated? Not a one
I am mad, I ain't had a job since a while back, and it don't take a lot of time to cotton on
Man are grimey, bunning up a burn with a warm can of Heiny
Gully like fern and the world looks tiny from the height that I'm standing
Sounding like your dad from the landing, “go to bed”
Motorhead, living like a rockstar
Tryna make a change in the range, getting not far
Let's catch more d**, more woman, dead flats, d**h traps, set backs, court summons
Moving with some educated felons
Missing from the system, putting talons into melons
And I ain't freedom fighting, but it's clear to see in writing that our rights are made of petrol
And their selling them in gallons
I'm just tryna wear a nice, fresh pair of socks
Trainers looking rags for the stooshy gyals, scare 'em off
I don't care enough about the sh** i'm wearing
If I spot you and you're staring at my costume, fair enough
Give a f**?
I don't give a f**
I don't even have to rhyme, I don't give a f**
I've been things, done things, seen things
So if I die young, then I'll know that I lived enough
Sample - Liam Gallacher:
I'm not into writing f**ing morbid music, like the rest of these pricks that are playing here
They all write bollocks, y'know what I mean, they're all, like, f**ing – they're all in pain
Well, my f**ing ears are in pain f**ing hearing your f**ing voice, you twat