Theres chaos in this brown nose city tonight and I'm for
The price is rising and we've gotta pay cause its law
Dont want this job no more, no not a reference of yours
Pistol to your head its said, dont think I won't, now your dead
Salute, Your Brittania
Pollute, Your establishment
Ten years ago we were asked to give some back
We spat in their faces and they offered us the sack
Took so much lip, took so much sh**
Its time to feed these f**ers to the pigs