| Ain’t nothin but this uncut croughness I bring
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| Don’t care bout no fide I do my own thing
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| Giving chase in this rat race, fears we face
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| And me be on the case, proud plus brave
|
| Ready to be taking them drastic measures
|
| Give me my treasure then splurt
|
| Could not give a brand new blouse and skirt
|
| I told you both through, fight through the bleak
|
| Clench my teeth dweet, enzymes for me By any which method positivities be we shepherd
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| We pounce like left limb leopard
|
| If you ever see me in the street pulling brand new good moves
|
| You’re wrong to confuse me with regular riff-raff, I got me cause and calling
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| Never have I held any love for stalling
|
| Plus it make haste
|
| You down for rebellion left-handed glove we embrace the minellium
|
| (Chorus)
|
| Ticka-ticka tock my golden pen
|
| Scribble 'pon the paper from yassa to when
|
| We drop style 'pon the heathens dem
|
| Those who can’t dig it well I feel the problem
|
| Aint no record that can hold me, I’m oversized
|
| Ears ever be open to the words of the wise
|
| But there’s untold cats on my corner perpetrating
|
| Read a few books and now their talking
|
| They’re looking to convert yours truly, but I’m unruly
|
| Plus, for the crew like cooly folk
|
| Mixing up the Guinness with the raw egg yolk
|
| Cos it’s all about strength while we walk through the valley of the snipe,
|
| heathens
|
| Get thee from my sight, you cats is ever eager
|
| To preach up in my face when you just about scrape to know all that is How the hell you try to tell me coca-cola got fizz?
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| I read your pamphlet four times, It don’t make sense
|
| You front like you be scholar, Smith smells pretence
|
| Yous best get off your horse, drink your milk, get the frig out
|
| It goes
|
| (Chorus)
|
| What the frig makes you friggers want to frig with this?
|
| Now you fools got me living with this mental fist
|
| That I wear with knuckledusters, taking out these frauds in their clusters
|
| Three by three, five by five
|
| How would you describe this left handed loony
|
| Toony votoony, dance gatecrasher
|
| Heading through the back door straight to the bar
|
| And I’m gonna get me some firewater
|
| Then I’m gonna scope out a young fine daughter
|
| Ah yes, it’s my wayward nature
|
| Hip to a caper, soon to have a house with X amount of acre
|
| It goes
|
| (Chorus) x3 |