| Yeah thank you very much, fresh right down to my tagliatelle guts
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| Bitch you’re way too kind, stay lathered in succes in these strange new times
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| Fresh out the bath, face made of tweed
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| Liquidised brain on some rainmaker steez
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| Stained glass jacket with the platinum hood
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| Got the giraffe skin pockets full of acid and kush
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| Look sublime, barbed wire scarf velvet bally
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| Clean set of knives taped to my teeth my flesh baggy
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| Stab happy tongue sharp chin chiselled features
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| Velour jaw sugar neck liquored up genius
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| Gas proof ear muffs muffle that fraff talk
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| Short back and sides racking lines on the catwalks
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| Jaw snapping eyes, role model musk
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| And a thousand yard stare to make the whole brothel blush
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| Dust out, lading in my radiant flesh
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| Moonwalking in my enriched uranium creps
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| Do the nuclear skank instantenous death
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| Check the burberry eyelids as they lay me to rest
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| Tree trunk fingers with the best dressed aphids
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| Kids ain’t fucking with the flesh, let’s face it
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| Suck the respect from the air
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| Exhale smug bullets with exceptional flair
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| Slide out the yard, big bag of stuff
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| Rock twenty layers like the kids fattened up
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| My vibe hand stitched by sweating obese children
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| Packaged and crammed into an elegant beak
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| Silken smile, rich regalia, crude oil jacuzzi
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| Blood diamond iris, eyes bleed profusely
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| New bejewelled suits smooth skin fitted loosely ruby guts basted in beauty
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| Pursued by a mass gash flash mob, chewing coins, guzzle gold
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| Picking dried blood and fake nails from my rubber soles
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| Looks within looks like Russia dolls
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| Fill a cup of cold caviar rock a plush rubber skull, criss
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| Chairman of the strong vibe academy
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| Silver skinned midget with a steel shank hacking me a fresh slab of ham
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| From the psychedelly deli Henny pouring out my pores
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| I’m bored already, yes
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| Wafer thin slices of the last Javan gibon
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| The desired diet plan of a half assed magician
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| Check the varnish on the guts
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| And the old crying butler sat sharpening the tusks
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| Yeah, thank you very much, fresh right down to my tagliatelle guts
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| Bitch you’re way too kind, stay lathered in success in these strange new times |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Fantastic Man , by - Jam Baxter. Song from the album ...So We Ate Them Whole, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп