Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fantastic Man, artist - Jam Baxter. Album song ...So We Ate Them Whole, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 30.11.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: High Focus
Song language: English
Fantastic Man |
Yeah thank you very much, fresh right down to my tagliatelle guts |
Bitch you’re way too kind, stay lathered in succes in these strange new times |
Fresh out the bath, face made of tweed |
Liquidised brain on some rainmaker steez |
Stained glass jacket with the platinum hood |
Got the giraffe skin pockets full of acid and kush |
Look sublime, barbed wire scarf velvet bally |
Clean set of knives taped to my teeth my flesh baggy |
Stab happy tongue sharp chin chiselled features |
Velour jaw sugar neck liquored up genius |
Gas proof ear muffs muffle that fraff talk |
Short back and sides racking lines on the catwalks |
Jaw snapping eyes, role model musk |
And a thousand yard stare to make the whole brothel blush |
Dust out, lading in my radiant flesh |
Moonwalking in my enriched uranium creps |
Do the nuclear skank instantenous death |
Check the burberry eyelids as they lay me to rest |
Tree trunk fingers with the best dressed aphids |
Kids ain’t fucking with the flesh, let’s face it |
Suck the respect from the air |
Exhale smug bullets with exceptional flair |
Slide out the yard, big bag of stuff |
Rock twenty layers like the kids fattened up |
My vibe hand stitched by sweating obese children |
Packaged and crammed into an elegant beak |
Silken smile, rich regalia, crude oil jacuzzi |
Blood diamond iris, eyes bleed profusely |
New bejewelled suits smooth skin fitted loosely ruby guts basted in beauty |
Pursued by a mass gash flash mob, chewing coins, guzzle gold |
Picking dried blood and fake nails from my rubber soles |
Looks within looks like Russia dolls |
Fill a cup of cold caviar rock a plush rubber skull, criss |
Chairman of the strong vibe academy |
Silver skinned midget with a steel shank hacking me a fresh slab of ham |
From the psychedelly deli Henny pouring out my pores |
I’m bored already, yes |
Wafer thin slices of the last Javan gibon |
The desired diet plan of a half assed magician |
Check the varnish on the guts |
And the old crying butler sat sharpening the tusks |
Yeah, thank you very much, fresh right down to my tagliatelle guts |
Bitch you’re way too kind, stay lathered in success in these strange new times |