[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