| I’m an old school post modern man
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| Marxist, intellectual Waka Flocka fan
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| My vodka probably hasn’t even got a brand like
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| But who cares I’ve got a few birds numbers on my hand man
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| Chatting shit in some sort of Scouse mongrel slang
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| Trying to blag my way into the promise land and
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| There’s only such much your imaginary God can stand
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| The lad’s are like drop it laa let’s just box a scran
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| Haggle and dabble then skedaddle back to the castle
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| Slick enough to bunk on Anthony’s Travel
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| I set an average example my role model
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| Was a scowling ignorant scal with a tag on his ankle
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| And now I’m nicking from Mal’s, keblaow
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| Fishing for dinner in the canal
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| Before we find ourselves in it at the deep end
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| Can you lend me some of your beak spend’s please friend?
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| I need some new clothes for this week’s trend
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| No laa but ring Ste Queng, funny you!
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| We bop around sunny Runny in a hurry like pfft what a dump!
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| A lot of shit happened since we watched Forrest Gump
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| What do you do except get palatick? |
| That’s it!
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| Oh and make classic’s brassick
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| Manic depressive rap shit with a smile and a fat spliff
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| I’m blitzed
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| Money, hoes, blunt’s and foil fronts x 8 |