| I never stutter, lie or mutter
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| This my bread and butter
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| Beats straight gutter
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| Like the lungs on a paint huffer
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| Fuck the coppers, I never wanna get clocked
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| Like fake dollars
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| Need a fishing hat, Shades and acres of forest
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| So I can get away with burying their office
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| Maybe I might jack a uniform, go out as Sergeant Chronic
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| And go around
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| Give the drugs back they’ve stolen from us
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| Roll to the Queens, knick her jewels and start playing conkers
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| I rap for opposite of sheeple man
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| I pay you homage
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| Fuck the time and the clock and what’s on it
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| My hands move faster
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| As I spit bars, they’re metal objects
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| The way your cranium gets shattered when I spray it onwards
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| Unlike the girls with their fake tans spraying orange
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| My bars resonate with nature cause I made them from it
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| Sound waves painting pictures out of sacred knowledge
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| I stay awake when I dream
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| You know my state is conscious
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| Unlike the guy laying in the alley in his vomit
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| I’m ballied up in my bedroom hanging like my bollocks
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| I shake the ground
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| Like the shock waves
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| Reverberating octaves
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| Top of the stage
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| Is where my gob’s placed
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| This is for the people who are growing Mary Jane
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| This for the people who are clinically insane
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| This is for the people living life how they want to
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| Never cared to aid the system, run against the grain
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| Yo I’m running down the third rail again when the train’s coming
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| Done this before, nuff onlookers said nothing
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| Lucky I’m alive now sonny, I was mad buzzing
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| High up in the sky, like the buzzard when it’s puffing
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| See I cold crush percussion
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| Getting stuck in like its curry mutton
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| No discussion son
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| You know it’s pucker when I bust the oven
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| Favourite way around London’s
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| Flash a bus and pay them nothing
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| Tripping off my face
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| Like I just ate eight magic mushrooms
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| Playing dot to dot with microscopic microdots
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| You might have lost your mind
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| A couple nights ago
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| If you find it bruv
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| I couldn’t really care less
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| Maybe that’s what kaya does
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| I put it on your screen like I transcribed and typed it up
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| Hands tied I still dig the diamonds right out the rough
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| Dripping blood like
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| My eyes concussed from the finest bud
|
| Turn the sound gold
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| Like each line got the Midas touch
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| Sites I set are high And mountainous
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| The piff flies me up
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| Focused I align the times
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| I’ve tried in the past but fucked up
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| It’s a minor bruv
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| Smiling through it like the guilty human
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| In a line up
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| Who am I?
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| Not one to judge
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| I am you
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| Just in a different place
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| And time, trust
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| This is for the people who are growing Mary Jane
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| This for the people who are clinically insane
|
| This is for the people living life how they want to
|
| Never cared to aid the system, run against the grain |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Against the Grain, artist - Fliptrix. Album song The Road to the Interdimensional Piff Highway, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп