| I was just a kid getting gassy on tour
|
| aside for a little eyesore
|
| I’mma feed the crowd to this pack of wild boar
|
| And gave 'em all my organs and still they want more
|
| Walk onstage tell these bitches, 'Bonjour'
|
| Stare at 'em in silence do a triple encore
|
| Oh you want money, is it is it, what for?
|
| This bitch is in my bits, I’mma give her what for
|
| I’m sure you’ve got a shank hidden in the top drawer
|
| I’m sure you’ve got a mansion, and it’s hidden offshore
|
| Stop winking in the mirror, Monsieur
|
| Why you pissing out your little box for, little kitty?
|
| Too much cash up in this kitty
|
| I swear this rap shit’s just getting silly
|
| They want me to hold my tongue in my city… nah
|
| Yeah, so, out to the real ones who stuck with me
|
| Nothing like being this evil in good company
|
| Now we’re sitting comfortably (I swear we fucking run this shit)
|
| I exclaim drunkenly
|
| Stormed off angrily
|
| Now I’m fishing for these lobsters out in Tuscany
|
| Screaming 'Someone save me from my lazy life of luxury' (save me)
|
| Doesn’t this dirt just suit me wonderfully? |
| (Yes)
|
| I said, 'Doesn't this dirt just suit me wonderfully?' |
| (Yes)
|
| La, la, la, la
|
| La, la, la, la
|
| La, la, la, la
|
| La, la, la, la
|
| La, la, la, la
|
| I was just a child getting grubby outside
|
| There’s a lot of mud splattered on your butters, brown eyes
|
| Saw the blood spatters on the gutters round mine
|
| I’mma wash it down with a jug of house wine
|
| Caught my reflection in the rioja
|
| Rolled the ladder off the roof and descended into the horror
|
| Horror, make me a better offer
|
| Blasting the liquor off of my skin with a pressure washer
|
| Woke up surrounded by witches with crooked lips, I said
|
| 'Whose hotel room is this?' |
| They wouldn’t snitch, I
|
| Chased them out the Radisson lobby and shook my fist (oi)
|
| With everything I’ve done it’s a wonder I’m looking crisp
|
| My days come in an impressive range of flavours
|
| Turn this sleepy town into a thousand flaming acres (burn it)
|
| Look, kids, we made the papers! |
| (Hey children) Yeah
|
| Look, kids, we made the papers! |