Lyrics Mushroom Clouds - Jack Jetson, Dirty Dike

Mushroom Clouds

Night vision optic binoculars
Geronimo Jetson
Cotch with the octopus
Johnny Strange had to stop with the doctor stuff
Dodgy operations, patients chopped with the bodies cup
«What the fuck»
Brains in the microwave
remains in the fire place
Climbing stairs up the spiral case
The surgeon with a sharp scalpel to slice your face
Skeletons hanging from the ceiling
Empty cupboards so you know my family ain’t eating
Jamming in the evening
Zoot fluffy like I wrapped it in a sheep skin
Strapped it in a green slim, passed it to the phantom of my demon
He lit it like a lantern then he breathed in
Look towards the window as he puffed out
Good shout, Geronimo Strange about to jump out
Coming like I’m Sally Gunnell’s, I’ll stop
And ain’t a man I trust enough to tuck it
You love it!
I saw a man digging through the rubbish
I took him to the pub for lunch to listen and discuss it
He said, «My life’s a mess, I’m feeling like I’m quite depressed,
plus my wife’s leaving me and even trying to fight my friends»
«She's gonna take the kids, I hate the bitch she takes the piss,
I’ll cellotape her face to the fridge and fucking break her ribs»
Wait, wait wait
I said «Mate I could relate to this, I used to date a chick who had me acting
like a plagiarist»
«And everyday she mentioned David, Liz and their relationship, stare at me for
ages and telling me how great it is»
Don’t stab her yet, nah
You earned her dad’s respect, yeah
Well let’s grab an ounce of crack and rap the alphabet
Sick plan, got the brain ticking like a big hand
Six grams into it I’m tripping in this wig wam
Chill FM
Still left them
Little weed, bottom of the garden like Bill & Ben
Small harvest, little shed
Trim a hedge, skydive, skyscrape his mirrors edge
Paper stack, played with jack’s scissors, shred
Bill a head in a phone box, Bill & Ted
Stitch my head back together with a pin and thread
The living dead, undercover like a hidden fed
Eyes glisten red, J Strange
Havn’t slept for 8 days still slyed up in your sister’s bed
Mr. red straight psycho like Mr. blonde
My raps cast magic tricks like a wizard’s wand
Still surviving in the lizard’s pond
Came to kill it with a licence like Jimmy Bond
Rappers collapsing like dominos stack
When I attack, jump off the map
Geronimo Jack