Gimme Dat
[Verse 1: Orifice Vulgatron]
My styles ain't available
My flows are fucking custom fit
And if you really want to test
I'll leave you with a busted lip
Talking about your busty chick when she's just a crusty bitch
Leave your whole crew sinking like a fucking rusty shit
Must have slipped up boy, seems like you've lost your flow
Where'd it go?
(I don't know)
Fuck off you fassyole
Get your little pussy-arse the fuck off my patio
Before I smack you proper boy, just like I did your datty hoe
My x-ray rhythm see through your lyrical petticoat
And underneath your lavish exterior you're just a sweaty bloke
The right fight's begun, we shun dumb buffoons
With random acts of violence we be spitting up our bit-tunes
And coming in too rough for crews tougher than mufflers
Eyes redder than blood we be the militant stuff puffers
Blubber on the rubber the mutt suffers the game
We be playing teeth but ain't we sound the same
[Hook] x 2
Hey, yo
Watcha gwan do?
Orifice, Foreign Beggar fam, roll through
Gimme that chain, that jacket, them shoe
That wallet with your money and your credit card too
[Verse 2]
I'mma burn down the house of justice, come watch this
Orifice get caught take myself as a hostage
So on-key I run a brothel up in the hospice
Glue your head to the top I bet you crack like a lost ostrich
Even leave the hardest bastard gasping for his last breath
Finish up the rascal's ass with the sharpest part of a pop wrench
You couldn't get us if you had a target up in your glass lens
I smack you claat over back you'll find yourself in the past tense
Got more fight than four dykes on a pint of Red Bull
Drop bars so heavy you'd think they was made from lead bull
Leave them fools wishing their bredrens had kept their heads cool
Call me the rhyme scientist but I never went to no med school
I'm cool chilling in this hell-bent habitat
Keep your garbage pail while you fassy up your cabbage patch
You're like a dirty yat with some flab up on ya scabby twat
Decided to decorate and paint the walls of your shabby flat
[Hook] x 2
[Verse 3]
I’m sitting here cotching by the side of the road
Watching the world go by through the eyes of a rogue
But no hope for change in this cryptic maze of destruction
So far from the light that my sight don’t even function
I’m hurting in so many places
I need a release from all the pain hatred and anger
The wrath of these evil streets
People say that’s the way life goes and I should accept it
But I’m not the kind of a guy to comply to the lies of the next dick
My shit is bitchin’
I rap for Britain!
I’m the sort of man to stick my dick in the back of a kitten
Spittin’ in your so-twisted pair of shit at the slightest mention
Fuck that
Spanked my monkey when I was at the back of detention
Drinking dead rappers trippin’ up and kickin’ written rhymes
Funkin’ in the cypher bitin’ flows committin’ spittin’ crimes
Little-minded fibbers get confided in for little time
Before they get their dingleberries crinkled into dicky wine
[Hook] x 2