Jam Baxter - One (feat. DJ Sugai) lyrics

Yo, yeah... I will never jack my style off of yesterdays man (nah) Separate jams from your second rate fam When the renegade strands are forever laid crammed (where?) In the polythene pockets of a cellophane land Where the presents stay prang (then what?), redefine your enemy (yeah) Stay hard headed like a Easter island effigy Staring out to sea beside a steaming pile of weaponry (weaponry) I feed the flies with a heap of primal energy You're paedophiles essentially. (erugh) obsessed with these f**ing minors (what?) Drenched in a ton of dryness (what?), its f**ing priceless (yeah) See I've never been a fame thirsty son of Midas (never) Just one of them straight dirty bu*ters rhymers I tunnel skywards, the airs thick with their sh** (yeah) And it ain't even fair when my brehs spit So blare this, (yeah) from any speaker that can stand the pain Naive sets the track alight and I just fan the flames Yeah, yeah.. flame fanner Jay Backer *cough* Listen. yeah, yeah.. See I've learnt from my family that sanities a fickle trickster (yep) So never bank on the galaxy to shrink to fit 'ya Take a snapshot of apathy and print the picture Pin it to this damp soggy tapestry of brick and timber This bitter world and sit and swirl on my middle finger (yeah) like a spinning pearl in the grip of winter Mister, mister. why'd you spit like A single drip of British piss clinging to a withered sphincter? Excuse the image. I spat it in the name of truth (yeah) brutal lyrics, hacking at your tapered roots I play the sabre tooth stranger in a lake of juice Raise the roof, got the place shaking like a traitors boots I've been making moves since we used to run with underlie Daktis the smackfish the gruesome one that loved to write Up at night perfecting the devils craft (yeah) penning bars getting higher than my levels are Yeah.. I wonder what them dry brehs been doing lately They disappeared, like the nightmares that used to plague me (yep) I heard all your newest music an its super samey (standard) So I threw it in a juicer with a human baby And you thought you were crazy? mans sick at rhyming (yeah) yeah brag, brag, brag ad infinitum I span this horizon, handpicked to ripen And now I'm sitting by this riverside missing Brighton I bring a titan (what'd you call him?) made of scrap metal His scatty hands wrestle facts from collapsed rebels Cramped in a damp vessel, and when the sands settled Dash 'em back, chat your fraff, you ain't that special (yeah) yeah but neither am I Just weaving the spines of evil into creachers that fly The fleet of the blind, feasting on a dream and a dry crumb Yeah.. I'm out, one *scratches* "one" "won what?" "you might win some, but you just lost one.."