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