[INTRO]
(Ey, how's it hang esé?)
(Alright, ahh, well... not so good, you know, I don't even know what's goin' on, but, I'm seeing things)
[VERSE 1 - Bill Shakes]
You're chattin' up birds thinkin' you're God
I'm in the back pickin' em off, you're gettin' jack diddly squat
I live in a box
A messy man neckin' Kessy straight out the petty can
Me hands are raidin' your crops, you won't get a chance
To blaze the last [?] gram, rappers styles are second hand
[?] like Fred the Weatherman, I'll piss on your parade
It's Shakes, awkward pauses, floorboards squawking
Always focused, put me head through the wall and walk through gauntlets
Don't know what they taught you Norman
But it won't get you far
You walk up spittin' soap suds, chattin' more bubbles than a bubble blower
The outlook's bleak
You'll be countin' sheep after a round with B
I [?] double L, in trouble, well
You're lucky someone rung the bell
The name's Bill, my game's ill
Kid, I'm on that cold saggin' sh**
Kid, I'm on that cold saggin' sh**
Kid, I'm on that cold saggin' sh**
[VERSE 2 - Lee Scott]
I sit stiffer than a wooden board, yet I'm drivin' ya to the wall
When it comes to doin' nothin' I've done it all
Chongin' an O-Z
I've been doin' this since I was rockin' a bowl head
You see me still there like, "Why are you still there?"
Rantin' like Bill [?], I'm dumb with a capital derr!
Err, I keep eatin' like I'm never full
I split wigs and ash spliffs in an empty skull
Content when the weather's dull, sue me
I'm used to hearin' inspirational sh** like "f** you, Lee"
Who's the man? Me! Alright, I just thought I'd ask
That's your birds whistlin' as I'm walkin' past
Like "Oh my, would you look at that"
So fly in a innovative Blah Velcro badge bucket hat
Chattin' non-debatable nonsense
I'm an even bigger G than the gravitational constant
T'was livin' life on the edge then I pushed ya
I'm chillin' at least a level above ya
I saw a hole in the floor and slapped you through the ceilin'
I love the smell of Napalm in the mornin', afternoon and evenin'
Apocalypse has been and gone, Mr Wrong
Kid, I'm on that cold saggin' sh**
Kid, I'm on that cold saggin' sh**
Kid, I'm on that cold saggin' sh**
[VERSE 3 - King Grubb]
I'm on the set, let's not forget I ain't the one to test
Best watch your step
Yeah your album's on the shelf
5 days later, still waitin' for one to sell
Agonising I'm sure, hardly gratifying
If you were wiser, then you'd hand your mic in faster than a flash of lightning
On some pantomime sh**
And your girl's on some widow twa*ky type tip
A man in tights and despite this she says she cramped your style
I laugh at life coz it's too much to an*lyse with this fragile mind of mine
I snort a fine line, fly by night crash out and rise slow like a [?] might
I scandalise and vandalise
b**by trappin lighters, known as the Man on Fire
All Blah black attire
It's King Grubb, drink up
Kid, I'm on that cold saggin' sh**
Kid, I'm on that cold saggin' sh**
Kid, I'm on that cold saggin' sh**
Kid, I'm on that cold saggin' sh**
Kid, I'm on that cold saggin' sh**