Sleaford Mods - Cunt Make It Up lyrics

[Verse 1] You c*nt make it up Select deep roads channeled, iced gems but code What do you buy a ticket for you twat? You tried to make a point out of what? You sack I saw ya f**ing sh** singer Trying to look like he was studying the bands dinner Wannabes never change, it's the wannabe show And you always wanna be the same, posy sh** And leather jacket, motorbikes from the 50's You live in Carlton you twat You're not Snake f**ing Plissken Circus band, ran by circus man Ran by, no understanding of what it means to write these tunes On the highway of f**ing artistry You're sh**, ya look like Rocket from the Crypt Meets an old codger with one leg, sat in his prefab Hating men, hating the state that sent the poor c*nt to war mate You're him, you're f**ing bleak little worm Tryna s** the juice out of a tuna tins [Chorus] You c*nt make it up More green chops, curdle the gravy Get ya plate in order No locker, no Davy [Verse 2] A pint and grunt, we won't win with a pint and a grunt You just gotta look at the horse faced c*nt Am I bring unintelligent? I don't care Its a war you ba*tards, slash and despair Flush 'em out there, ground the family The servants scream in delight Tyre, tyre, ya wheels on fire I'm gonna put a wrestling mask on and stand in front of a mixer And start hitting it with a ding dong Resort to gimmick, write for the... And live on me own in a knackered cottage in Limerick Kate Bush did it, she's great Music for people with a bit of extra money, mate I'm fighting off comedy mods, Les Dawson sods [Chorus] You c*nt make it up More green chops, curdle the gravy Get ya plate in order No locker, no Davy You c*nt make it up You c*nt make it up More green chops, curdle the gravy Get ya plate in order No locker, no Davy [Outro] You c*nt make it up You c*nt make it up You c*nt make it up