[Jam Baxter] I rushed in on the ground floor Swinging my south paw Thought I'd escaped from the criminals outdoors Swore I was safe when a sinister sound caused My ears to bleed in a militant downpour And as they pissed hundreds of litres of blood I nearly slipped up from the speed of the flood When a demon encrusted with leeches and pus Starts screaming and beating my feet into mush Quick tings I rip my teeth from my gums Just to stab to him in his creature-ous features and run But my feet have become ‘nuff burnt and infected Septic and spurting with curdling red sh** Grabbing loose flesh and some dirty intestines I fashion new legs started searching for exits Turned to the left when the worms I'd ingested Dispersed from my neck where my sternum connected They were like [AAAAGHHH] And I was like fu*k Dussin' up to the first floor clutching my guts Banging at the door sat there rusted and shut But I spat a raw bar and it crumbled to dust The whole room was strange and it stunk of the musk Of some old tuna steak plus fungus and lust Heard a thundering crunch, chundered my lunch in disgust What the f** is that? What the f** is that?! f**…that is bu*ters… It's every girl I've ever banged in the world and never rang All forced in a monster of dirty messy flange So I bun eleven grams of some dirty smelly ganj Tryna fumigate the room but that weren't a heavy plan Cos I'm lean now, boss I'm wax on wax off Plugged up the gash with some tampons dashed off Whipped out my brick and dialed 999 But the voice on the line screamed ‘DIE DIE DIE!' I thought, rah I'll ring Ronnie And if he's still alive, tell him Bring a kitchen knife and then swing for his frigging life But I couldn't speak with my toothless mouth it's like… [Ronnie Bosh] Whagwan you stupid clown? Look I'm tryna dig this groupie out What the f** you hoovered down? [Jam Baxter] Man I was trying to explain all the f**ery before All that came out was [MUMBLE] But suddenly he paused, like… [Ronnie Bosh] Bruv, there's someone at the door It better be that scummy motherf**er with my draw Or I'm bussin' up his jaw, no long Huh, I'm gonna get the door, hold on [Jam Baxter] Ruhhh, they got to him too f** it I'll get over it, Hieronymus who? I got boppin' to do, through this ominous goo Stuck my guts back in with a bottle of glue I gotta boom, straight duss to the second floor Met by a sweaty severed head by a metal door Retching with seven doors slobbering slush Vomiting bugs and slop from acuminous slugs And if that wasn't enough, swaying from the ceiling Were forty-four corpses dripping and congealing Pickling and bleeding, reach for my spine Ripped at the leeches and beetles and flies As the insects ran back to the nest Bun rounds saw Ron Bosh back from the dead But the man was possessed on some Dracula flex With his face hanging off and mad scabs on his flesh Got an axe to my neck and there's crabs in my crepes And a rancid tarantula clamped to my chest I tried to black but collapsed as he said… fu*k YOU JAM BAXTER YOU'RE DEAD!!!