| See me?
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| I stepped straight off the rugby pitch
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| Pierced my cauliflower ears
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| With the ugly stick
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| Fed up of scrummages
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| Where funny kids would hug me quick
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| I thought «I need a new sport»
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| Then it suddenly clicked
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| I’d jump ship
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| As soon as I could find a good port
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| Head to the States
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| And get a taste of college football
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| I’m standin' out
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| I make a talent scout say
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| «Hang about!
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| This is the man
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| That we’ve been tryin' to hatch a plan without?»
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| A British rugger lover
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| Over on shore leave
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| The kid’s a lucky bugger
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| My clover’s four-leafed
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| So don’t ignore me
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| I’m on the road to glory
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| Rollin' over rows of foes
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| Like a coach and horsies
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| If only I was coachin' your team
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| Raw meat, I throw the ball deep
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| Into enemy territory
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| Takin' on all teams
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| The very best from each college
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| I’ll tackle them so hard
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| They’ll never eat solids
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| Demolish your defence
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| Leave them in the deep end
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| It’s D-Day
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| The invasion of D-A-N
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| Check those credentials
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| Pro potential
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| My flow’s torrential
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| So whatever you throw in my direction
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| Is inconsequential
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| Techniques are confidential
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| You wanna step to me?
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| Please, come on, be sensible
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| Petty fools
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| Try to knock me off my pedestal
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| Like the heavy fall
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| You’re inevitably headed for
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| Reignin' forever
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| So you better head indoors
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| My whole rhyme’s a goldmine
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| Fetch the Seven Dwarves
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| «Good heavens, Lord
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| What else do you have in store?»
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| I got it locked
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| Knock knockin' up on heaven’s door
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| This is the situation
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| A British pitch invasion
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| Bringin' everythin' except the kitchen sink
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| Sorry, «kitchen basin»
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| And this is just the initiation
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| Of the Brit invasion
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| A bit of vindication
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| For the fact I never had an invitation
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| Still reignin' forever
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| Precipitation
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| A little bit of titillation |