Ye-ha-ha-ha-ha! (ha-ha-ha) Once again! (wagh!) Of course! (Scummy!) [Mr. Key] My crew's mutant Missing parts Tumors and a dicky heart Stop till the ticker starts looping And I spit a bar Cruising on the wishing star Dusting with the opiates Nothing but the dopest From a crusty little vocalist Yah, I write couplets with a broken wrist And spoken with an open bicuspid And a throat that's slit, b**h! Why tousle with a open fist I gave you everything I had in life And didn't hope for sh** Still a chauvinist type of prick When I spy a chick's finer bits Eyes'll bip wider than vagina lips Life with six sides I flip dices to decide and pick Which type of chick I should hit with my giant dick Nah, I'm like a sick ba*tard, a nihilist Trying it with a pig mask and I ride their wish Live with a knife I sit chopping my face off Its waste top straight from a bottle of brainwash Mate what'ya expect, something different? Wait till your father and step mother listen to the filth Pig fat dripping from the grill But it's real! Spitting till I'm stricken from the will, still Stressed out in a fresh cloud of madness Precipitate rain made of sadness and anger Back from the cancer Dripping with asbestos Test-tube frog prince Kiss him and [??] [Jam Baxter] I rep for the S's, for the M's, for the B's For the sweat beads peppering my neck for my team For what's left of my dreams I'mma fight and die kicking The quiet type Looking like the sky at night hit him I arrive spitting like its Iron Mike swinging Limelights dimming Cyanide swigging So is this the type of world your messiah might live in? f** him, I'm just gonna try die grinning Something ain't quite right in my head yet Clinging to the sides of a life full of excess Live in a sket's dress Live from the sweat fest Please welcome the mind of a s** pest! Am I dead yet? Nah, just a dead vibe Kinda like a fresh jet of lemon to the left eye Legs like jelly with a belly full of red wine Bled dry, looking like a wet pie Get high! Skets try messing with my head like headlice f** that! Pick 'em out, flick 'em at the next guy Hence I Stay sniffing at the breadline Let fly cumspace Splattered on a red sky Rub it in the headlights Fetus in the crapper Snackin on my flesh Like the beetles in my bladder Wot? You expect something next? Expect nothing less than the next grubby mess [Dirty Dike] I'm still using Life is a blaggard in a tight spot Lost with a cracker and a canister of nitrous Watch as I stagger like your boss on his night off Why not? f** it if it matters, I'm a right co*k The sky's what my bladder is the size of Wine clog [??] Life stops I wake covered in a smeggy paste Smelling like the freshly baked flavour of yesterday Anyway, I hit the rave in a silly state Waving a Biggie tape straight in a hippie's face Wait, you expect something civil? The next f**ing prick to come and headbu*t a chick'll be me All please listen to the beat Mr C, Jammy B, Mr Key and me - SMB Ed Scissor-T and Ronnie B - CP Making what you're rating seem easy So come and get a lesson at the next show Tesco mission for some bevvies with a wet nose Lets go repping like the 70s to Steptoe Save no pennies, you can bet I feckin spent loads! Pressure in the headphones, snappin up the mic-stand Lapping up the slime from the tracks in my rhyme plans Yep, if you want what's expected Come and sing along from the bottom of the cesspit [Dike and Edward Scissortongue on phone] E: Wasteman! D: Scissor! E: What [?] is that? D: I'm just f**ing mastering my album innit, finishing everything E: What you doing.. don't master it without me! D: Well.. this is it, I wanna record this f**in tune with you on the end of it, but you're not f**in here are you? E: well I'll be.. I'll be back uh.. D: Nah bruh, I'm finishing it this weekend regardless E: ok well uh.. [mumbles] D: Ronnie Bosh as well! He didn't make it, what the f**! [Ronnie Bosh] It's like, give me a fiver, I'll fling you a CD But, give me the mic, and you're finished, it's sweet dreams Man they tryin it, lying and thinking with PC I leave chicks crying and stinking of deep heat So what d'you expect? Something similar? CP, SMB The familiar face I space the desperate waste is dead Better lay in it ladies I've made my bed Save the skets for later, the stage is set Watch Ronnie Bosh profit off of blatant theft Ancient creps will step on the paper's edge But never spend pence when they could be paid in debt That's free money Fact, that scene's crummy I'mma preach till these sweet-pea creeps scream mummy for me! It's better to be deep than be lucky Bosh, you'll never see a weak chief touch me Stop to settle for a peace? Please sonny Well I feast on the green leaves that keep me scummy Funny, something ain't quite how it should be Hooks need sharpening for this crowd of shook freaks You mistook me for them? Well then who's who then? No I ain't Dike or Ed They're too gruesome No I ain't Jams, and I ain't Luke Nukem It's Bosh, come on unlock the screws loosen [Dike and Edward Scissortongue on phone] E: wait I can [???] what can I say D: aw, wasteman! E: But I'm back in Cambridge on Wed-nes-day D: What, and now you're gonna record your verse? E: I dunno, can't we figure something out? Thursday is the... would be perfect and I dunno, there's gotta be, there's definitely got to be somewhere we can sort out, I'm sure.. Yeah well its the 14th on Wednesday D: Yeah, alright cool we just need to get an acapella and send it to Adrian E: Standard, alright D: alright, safe, well I'll chat to you soon E: Cool, in a bit