Trials - Being Vincent D'Onofrio lyrics

[Intro:] Cla**ic (cla**ic) Cla**ic (cla**ic) [Verse 1: Trials] Yeah, terrifying creature, size thirteen Nike sneakers [?] is like (what?) and the hair is like Jesus Smuggling the reefer, suspect smell But it's a habit, got a habit like it's Dundee L, hell [Verse 2: Sesta] I'm at the flash lamp [?] Did a cool song, great hook, sh** type You've got a sh** wife and a sh** life Seddy Capp died on Facebook, click like [Verse 3: Hons] This ain't clockwork orange But Rick Soldier violence where the Hons jump on it [?] smell of vomit from a Saturday night Full time binge drinker at the salary [?] [Verse 4: Trials] It's like [?] policy, I dropped that toxic smell X's [?] sh**, your mother s**s “what's in hell” If I'm not back in five, tell my torrents off Make sure your cat's alright, grab your [?] [Hook 1: Trials] Let's go on the road, three months, I'm gone Got the shows packed out an I'm [?] That's cla**ic (cla-cla**ic) That's cla**ic (cla-cla**ic) I've got a big fat box of free clothes that only fits Kids [?] that's Peepshow you know That's cla**ic (cla-cla**ic) That's cla**ic (cla-cla**ic) [Verse 5: Hons] This is champagne ‘oars in the champagne room With a big stack of chips and a IOU (That's cla**ic) Party ‘til I'm higher than the graff scene Womb start spitting, then cats try to attack me [Verse 6: Trials] It's like, oh no, windows up, roll past the po-po In slo-mo, [?] like they were hobos Somebody's mother said the ‘oars don't smash it I've seen a kid [?] for sh**, f**ing cla**ic [Verse 7: Sesta] Ooh, I move boom f**ing [?] The way you move, f**ing spastic I'm gone crazy as the catholic Your rhymes don't stink brother, turn it to the mattress [Verse 8: Hons] New sheets, same [?] old policy Daz B, great guy, ‘oars commentary Got a handy cam, thirty odd to a date Swept from the gutter [?] [Hook 2: Trials] [?] working hard on your feet To buy weed [?] police Ah, man, that's cla**ic (cla-cla**ic) That's cla**ic (cla-cla**ic) I jumped the plane on the stage just before the show Half the party at the club can't afford to go Man, that's cla**ic (cla-cla**ic) That's cla**ic (cla-cla**ic) [Post-Hook: Trials] Yeah, I got Dazza on the beat, that's cla**ic or what? Yeah, Certified Wise, that's cla**ic as f** Adelaide, SA, home of the badest Funkoars on tour, guaranteed…oh [Verse 9: Sesta] I made the mess, uh, things I must confess, uh Plus, I hate me with the you and I think lesser None the less, I got the home maid to stress, uh Bet you, centre the room and face mecca [Verse 10: Hons] Now, I better [?] ‘cause I don't trust the pilot Car coming round, I paying silver like a pirate Still broke, ‘Oars always go too far Put the whole minibar on our old credit card [Verse 11: Trials] I'm freaking out now, it could be the wind [?] talking ‘bout the [?] Man, I'm losing it, Mr f**ing Trials [?] suited ‘em On board, the plane across the valley [?] [Verse 12: Sesta] And the ash cloud grounded a plane And then the hash cloud [?] I got Saint Alma [?] You like it and it's pirated, well, I ain't buying it, never [Outro:] Welcome to the worst nightmare of all Reality