| Um, smooth
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| Like a motherfucking otter’s belly
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| Watching telly in my socks until I pop an ecky
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| Got the 'chete by the bottom of the box of reckies
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| When I die you’ll probably talk a lot and when you stop forget me
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| I rang the doctor like a motorcycle gang Madonna
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| With gold hanging out my oversized attractive collar
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| I’m a hybrid call me Matty Waller
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| Only guys from Life4Land and Madingley can catch you proper
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| Shouts to hints and any pigs who tried to catch me
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| Weed bags, graff, beak in every bit of pasty
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| Beef, slags, dads, freaks, geezers and the drag queens
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| Please don’t forget the coke squeezers and the scag fiends
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| With my eyes shut I see nothing
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| Nothing like the multi-coloured spiderweb I’m stuck in
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| Boldly cover up and bye the bye beside the bigger me
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| Literally I sit and keep it rigid as a figurine
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| Listen it’s a kindred little spirit from a different scene
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| Coke-sniffing antisocial prick within the guillotine it isn’t me
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| It isn’t me a single bit, and I don’t miss to seek
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| 'Cause I don’t really give a shit
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| It’s not the millions of cocks up in your mouth
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| It’s just a difference in the cotch when you’re about
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| It’s just a bridge a bit of confidence you doubt
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| Bitch I wear the fucking trousers dead in Rodney Trotter’s house
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| It’s the snout and the way that your eyes lie and scream piss
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| Peen stiff disfigured foetus for the squeamish
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| Six-figure Jesus eating fish shipped from Egypt
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| I mean it, a few million views and you’ve seen it
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| My mouth hurts tryna rap as I crowd surf
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| Acting like an out of talent twat in a loud shirt
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| And I’m a geezer that you trust to keep at arms length
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| Half dead get your palm read on a park bench
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| Alarms went (nee-naw nee-naw)
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| In the yard shed, I know that Collin’s right but
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| I believe what Noir said
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| Guitar swinging off my brother’s back
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| Fuck a dad we work together and we love him back
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| Knobs like you who think you’re slippery and clever
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| But one sly move I treat you differently for ever
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| Knobs like you who think you’re slippery and clever
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| But one sly move I treat you differently for ever
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| Knobs like you who think you’re slippery and clever
|
| But one sly move I treat you differently for ever
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| Knobs like you who think you’re slippery and clever
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| But one sly move I treat you differently for ever
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| I’m smooth, like a motherfucking well buttered boot up your bitches ass
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| Mid-game, leaning on me pimp cane
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| While I twist me 'tache
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| Lift me glass, relax, and pick a pass
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| Moving slow but I’m thinking fast
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| I’m in a different class
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| I’ll blasted out the pussy like Goku
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| With a cold brew and landed in the middle of the dole queue
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| Built a rat on the spot, and smoked a whole Q
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| Rocking the same tracksuit since 02
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| Devouring cold stew out of an old shoe
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| And then I put it on soaked through
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| I pimp limp and half step over your whole crew
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| Intimidating players like Jonah Lomu
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| It’s just something I made up but it’s so true
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| In church donating fivers we sniffed coke through
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| I’m a piece of shit with a gold hue
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| If you want something not doing I’m your go to
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| I suppose you already knew, two cans of Kezzy and a strawberry chew
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| But why you here though really?
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| Relax, kick back, let your beard grow curly
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| Arm round a crate like we’re oldest chums
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| Smoking lungs looking at pictures of old smoker’s lungs
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| Knobs like you who think you’re slippery and clever
|
| But one sly move I treat you differently for ever
|
| Knobs like you who think you’re slippery and clever
|
| But one sly move I treat you differently for ever
|
| Knobs like you who think you’re slippery and clever
|
| But one sly move I treat you differently for ever
|
| Knobs like you who think you’re slippery and clever
|
| But one sly move I treat you differently for ever |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Woah , by - Dirty Dike. Song from the album Acrylic Snail, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп