Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Allergic Reaction to Broccoli, artist - Dan Bull. Date of issue: 20.12.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Allergic Reaction to Broccoli |
| I’m the biggest prick in this town |
| The British Chris Brown |
| Visit your award ceremony |
| And just sit down |
| I’ll slash your tire just cause I enjoy the hiss sound |
| Disagree with this, my sleeves’ll slip down |
| Fists out, swingin' 'till the 56th round |
| I could beat you with my wrists bound |
| Ha |
| I list my inspirations in roughly this order: |
| Father Christmas, Satan, and Chris Dorner |
| I’m spreading disorder |
| I diss all the rappers who I asked to collaborate and got a missed call off |
| Rap’s Piers Morgan |
| But with a pierced organ |
| Too much information? |
| Too bad, that’s the beer talking |
| I sit too near broads |
| And make them feel awkward |
| Randy as Ramsay |
| Now cook me a meal, Gordon |
| Now here’s the point where you might think |
| «Why's he still talking? |
| Slimey limey |
| Why should I see the appeal of him?» |
| And that’s the point |
| I travel through the camera |
| And slap you 'till you’re black and blue, Rihanna |
| Alicia Keys needs to improve her grammar |
| I’ll take a hammer to her new piano |
| Now you’ve had a glimpse inside the ill mind of Dan Bull |
| Try to get out, I doubt you will find the handle |
| My lines are angle grinders |
| They mangle rhymers |
| I rap into the sky |
| And the air force scrambles fighters |
| Spit fire |
| You stink like a lit tire |
| I’ll bring you down to the ground |
| Quick as a zip wire |
| Listen to this: My dick is thick and it’s large |
| So get onto Twitter and tell Nicki Minaj |
| America’s gone shit since you had Britain in charge |
| And fuck off if you think that’s a little bit harsh |
| I’ll stick a petard up in your doors of perception |
| Snipping the wires, no phone call for protection |
| I get dressed in my Sunday best |
| And I still look less fresh than Kanye West |
| So, give me the hand lotion |
| And phone Frank Ocean |
| I want to know his exact man-to-man «ient |
| I’m loopy, that’s limey for «so loco» |
| I run and rub my crotch upon an old hobo |
| Whilst shouting over my shoulder «No homo!» |
| Because fuck it, you know, «YOLO!» |
| Righty ho, that’s Drake’s act copied |
| Who am I body bagging next, A$AP Rocky? |
| I suppose I could, but I ain’t that cocky |
| I’ve already had two chains snatched off me |
| It’s time for payback, probably |
| I pack a nine-inch winky, they attract totty |
| And occasionally, I may strap shotties |
| But usually I’ll do a drive-by screwface at posses |
| Sneeze and leave the seats of my Maybach snotty |
| Green windows looking like they’re made of stained glass, Gothic |
| I’m a misanthropic proper maniac, potty |
| I got crunk off a straight black coffee |
| It was a bad idea to take that straitjacket off me |
| You just don’t have the power to restrain that, Scotty |
| I rap with an ill mind, «Hey, that’s Hoppy!» |
| I’ll tear his fucking face off, take that, Robbie! |
| Your production quality is way bad, sloppy |
| Or is your wave compression rate that lossy? |
| «How can Hopsin be the one that he’s dissing?» |
| I’m just showing I can do this and still win the competition |
| And then it wears off as quickly as it started. |
| It’s a mystery to me, |
| some sorta allergy I guess? |