| He’s just another foul captor full of these rappers who lack the wow factor
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| Tell 'em straight to their face and they wanna scowl at ya
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| Proud actors feeding off false encouragement
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| And bottle fed freaks who reek of their own punishment
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| You can’t tell me nothing about this rap ting here
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| Say sutting it fall on a deaf ear like what?
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| Full steaming this bitch with your best gear, what’s that?
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| Got something to say come on let’s hear oi
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| Pour liquor into my right kidney and stick your middles up in the atmosphere if
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| you’re with me
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| Man I don’t give a fuck where your from
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| Race, colour, creed, sexuality or relig-ion
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| Gone, let’s get this show on the road
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| Blow and unload, counting up the doe that I’m owed
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| While I tick boxes, catching flies with one chopstick
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| Killing live shows with a flow that’s become toxic
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| As soon as he drops it don’t wheel it
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| I mean it with your fingers in your ears you can still feel it
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| That shit that manifest from within the chest
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| Who’d have guessed I was more butters than an EasyJet stewardess?
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| Yes, it’s cool dress me
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| I know what they’re trying to pull but it’s all bless me
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| That’s what you call messy
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| I’m still scrawny, 10% angry 90% horny
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| Your mums calling is a regular occurrence
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| So I linked her up to dead off the pussy without the pet insurance
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| Secure in the knowledge I’m on some next endurance
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| I’ll murder your disco for less than 20 duros
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| Surely you’ve heard of me on that tune when I’m bolting all prematurely and
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| throwing salt in the wound
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| 2pac isn’t dead you mug and Biggies on the moon
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| They’ve got Jimi Hendrix on the decks and Whitney on the spoon
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| Soon come but then we’ve moved on
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| She loves a ginger chicken mushroom with the udon
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| Can’t rely on the shovel to get the mood on
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| That’s why I backed the gal and then hammered it like a true don
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| Man a rudeboy, your a new boy
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| Who the fuck is talking to you boy?
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| Swear to god, Buddha and Allah
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| If it isn’t over something it’s the mother fucking udder
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| You shudder, il keep on bunning that lemony hubba-dolla
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| It’s naddah but not really
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| Take a step back might see it a lot clearly
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| Snap your neck back as I giggle and bop freely
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| Catch a sunburn, with that ahh you got pealy
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| Pop wheely, shot CD’s are dropped yearly
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| A lot of rappers think they’re coming close but not nearly
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| Stick it in your face and let the brains blow
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| I stay wavy like the end credits of a game show
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| Two parable, incomparable
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| The way I keep twisting them up like balloon animals
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| Yeah Dabbla’s on that shit that you couldn’t write, not in your fucking life
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| Gimme the fucking mic!
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| Gimme the women, the jewellery, cars and funds and a big fuck off skip I can
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| burn them in when I’m done
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| I’ll sum it up in one stale breath, fetch the bayonets
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| I’d love to burn a milli I haven’t got that care left
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| Saying that il be back on that shit I started with
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| Me, myself and I have decided to form a partnership
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| A tried relationship, you get three strikes
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| Before we all turn up on bikes and start spraying shit
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| This back in the day and shit
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| Could always count on Dabbla cause his rappers ain’t saying shit
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| I’ll stick to this gig and I’ll keep chipping away and shit
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| They must fucking love it cause it really ain’t paying shit
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| Well I am m getting paid but it’s hard to explain and shit
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| Ain’t enough to maintain a stable relationship
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| Ain’t enough to cop a fucking yacht or a plane and ship
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| This weird entertainment shit, I swear to god
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| It can fuck right off! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Incomparable , by - Dabbla. Song from the album Year of the Monkey, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп