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by
Jam Baxter
Featuring(s) : Stinkin Slumrok
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Fresh from lounging in the [?] My work clothes and our pyjamas in the shrouded darkness Unless I'm pulling out the velvet suit and leather gloves and silver chains That kill the game and salsa dance around the carcass You bought your whole image with that label money Yeah, your funny, cute, screw faces from your baby buggy Teams of high rats around him, let him masquerade his gully I ain't gotta buy him a [?], I ain't f**king made him money sh*t, he lost his footing and fell Took a chip for you, pastor, my lord, look at the "L"s If you're trying to find your friends just take a look at my shelf 'Cause these rappers are Russian dolls now, full of themselves I catch a seventy-pound Uber, two trains and skied down the side of a Himalayan mountain range, naked, to tell you to suck your mum And turn up holding the same perfectly-balanced double-rum Rap this powder round and give the drummer some, f**k him up Empty skull like numb man plain But I'll tell you you're a f**ker with your drunk dad's brain Lick a whole sheet, disappear and come back sane Singing put your toys away, this ain't a young man's game You've had enough champagne, sir They chased me out the building past the semi-famous peasant begging passing kids to film him That's a dead cow you're milking Relax and give them hands a rest We caught him lacking lapping up the sewage like a man possessed Slap him in the car Don't get what they get the best of what they never get far Yeah you were all [?] back I'm talking to the kingdom to the [?] So let me take a little sip So I provoke [?] pistol I can aim at your arm Back wish the whole possession Try not to fade in whispers You know what time they're testing Be full of skulls an blisters I sense a certain sickness in you curtain-twitchers Never left your room, kept [?] as a murder witness Oi, this year I want your world for Christmas Girl across the table stare you out and chew my turkey giblets And when my misty eyes return fire One man shatters and becomes a tiny church choir Escaping in a little toy tractor with a burst tire Stepping in the spread your greasy rumours, your the worst liar You're writing out it in circles 'til your skin was purple Gossip queen, coughing lean, trip on every single hurdle Prodding at your bruises sitting glued atop your father's knee Fine, feel your wave, I'll slap your snorkel off and part the sea Fix the world, flash the sky, peel it back, ask for me I appear in holographic form for one second and charge a fee She told me she'd been off the whites, pulled out of my yard and free I'd love to believe it, but that line you did was half a g Damn, now she's never gonna shut up Couldn't kick her habits with a hundred-metre run-up Someone must've snuck up, slapped you through the curtains Now the vampiric shriek is just a regular occurrence Is that [?]? Body shoved into the reduced frozen fruit section They lost a few limbs, lost a few henchmen He streaks the bright green gutter like his new bedroom Slap him in the car Don't get what they get the best of what they never get far Yeah you were all [?] back I'm talking to the kingdom to the [?] So let me take a little sip So I provoke [?] pistol I can aim at your arm Back wish the whole possession Try not to fade in whispers You know what time they're testing Be full of skulls an blisters
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