[Verse 1 Jehst] Under dressed like Hunter S at his blunted best My hardest decision in life is skunk or cess I get down like James Brown the funky prez Reading my own reviews screaming fuck the press Getting drunk and depressed I need something fresh Before this lifestyle results in a sudden death Im feeling like a shrunken head in a pickle jar Groucho Marx glasses, moustache, big cigar Thats the story so far I just skipped a part My lady friends sneaks my beer into the cinema But thats a common bar from a rap snob Youre a fat slob who should of been a hand job Im a gypsy, Hendix had a band off And brought the klashnekoff to the Mexican stand off Smoking the medicine with Gandalf Celebrating up north but representing down south [Verse 2 Lee Scott] Sassenach pommy, Asda bag Johnny Lad Im mad cocky Im in Barry Grants posse Winning with a last minute jammy twat volley Blag bobbies with a thousand Garry Abs on me Oochie Wally youll be sorry got the funk like Morri When I think about it, that rhymes with something probably Looking like a young Axel Rose I dont do nothing, I just sit back and pose Im stingy when it comes to giving shits The Noam Chomsky of idiots The stupid version of Einstein All three point one four one blah blah five nine of the Pis mine Dont understand that line? Fine, neither do I I greet you with bye, hi when I leave on the sly To bunk an Uber taxi And cant read my own writing like Luca Brasi Thats why I might seem dazed Acid rain stains turned me white T beige But I walk around town like its sound Give me a bell I might be living in hell but Im nice enough to invite you round [Verse 3 Jehst] The boy got bars he really sell the bars Getting down with your marge to some El DeBarge Or maybe your aunt I cant tell them apart Fly shit I put the tail feather in the dart Dressing like a 95 era Everlast And to think they said this rap shit would never last Why everybody want to rap hella fast Im in the bath with a copy of the Telegraph Hot body in the lobby tell her send her arse I study Frank TJ Mackey seminars And art house flicks in bourgeois cinemas On the flip Slick Rick sitting in my car Im a king like Kublai Khan Pulled the strap back I didnt make the gat clap I pinged her bra So pin that on your cork board I do the math like a teacher with a chalk board The drifters back, under the boardwalk Steady getting internet paper the way I Talk Talk [Verse 4 Lee Scott] S.W pound sign G Just let the crazy round eye be My shittest shit shits on your best song Read between the lines it says fuck you spelt wrong But wrongs the new right I wear my sunnies in the night cause the moonlights too bright Hush, I make your mother effing mother blush Forget the lean, I sip a Sprite for the sugar rush And then it hit me like a blunt of Kush Or a sucker punch to the grid, you cant fuck with the kid I cant believe he just done what he did when he done it Dumb shit
jehst, cinema, blah, like, shit