| Petrifying, death defying, shoo a T-rex and pet a Lion
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| I don’t feel like ever tryin' every day I get a lie in
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| And I have no desire to change, deranged
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| Compared to me people aren’t that strange
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| I can’t be assed to nod me head to the beat
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| That ketwig sweg heroin chic, sellin the beak
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| While you’re waitin on the end of the week to get your rocks off
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| I’m sipping on a bevy in Speke, watching benefit street
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| Step on your feet, having a kick about in the house
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| I’ll read the Bible when it’s translated into scouse
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| I hate learnin' the hypes drowned out by the cogs in me brain turnin'
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| When I think too hard it smells like Amnesia Haze burnin'
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| Disconcertin' possibly off his face slurrin' what the fuck are they wearin'?
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| «ellesse, ellesse» you know how it goes
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| I pose with a ciggy blowin smoke out me nose
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| Still blitzed but never cleaner
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| Coughing like emphysema, the grass is getting greener
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| Hedge hop into the perfect shade which is we stayed
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| Yelling obscenities in ye hearing aid
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| Do you hear me now clearly?
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| If it’s not about the cult then that shit don’t concern me
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| Cold to the sag sweg shit, kick it slow
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| I rep that Brick Peli, Blah gang if you didn’t know
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| Do you hear me now clearly?
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| If it’s not about the cult then that shit don’t concern me
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| Cold to the sag sweg shit, kick it slow
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| That 616, DVLGNG if you didn’t know
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| Mr. Wrong, the same shit, but in a different song
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| Lookin for some easily influenced hoes to string along
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| I just want to floss me teeth with Gloria Pritchett’s thong
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| I’m passing out, these pills are strong
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| I’m from a place where the children chong and the adults sniff
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| Thumbs up bombing back to rock bottom tryna blag a lift
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| Joseph Smith if he smoked a spliff, slapped a thot
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| Threw a bag a gwop at a prozzy and slammed a shot
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| I’m not a rapper I just rap a lot
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| In baggy joggies and a tracky top
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| Froze in me finest catalogue pose, pissing on a cop car
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| Sipping whiskey, wishing on the wrong star
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| Signal barely one bar; |
| Just Eat on me phone in a funeral home
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| I don’t care if you’re down I can do it alone
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| We could of been like Ferris Bueller and Sloane baby
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| Now I’m tryna to book an Uber to rome |