Check-ch-check ch-check, yo
[Hook]
Real sick hearing these pricks talk sh**
They'll get their throats slit cause they're talking to me like I'm thick
And I'm real tired of these bullsh** guys
They best go hide 'cause I'm looking for them on the sly
Cause I've had it up to here, right up to here
Might have to do it 'Reservoir Dogs' style, slice off the ear
Cause I've had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it's obvious they ain't rough enough, listen
[Verse 1]
I don't just talk the talk I walk it
That's why my mouth's always coming out with raw sh**
My rap style's distorted, like Little Mo getting raped and keeping the baby
Instead of getting it aborted
Yo I talk morbid just to make you feel awkward
d**h's a part of life yo you just can't ignore it
Especially when I rip out your heart and on my sleeve sport it
Like something you think is precious 'cause your dead gran bought it
I talk so foul; I talk so coarse. I show no regret; I show no remorse
Like a necromanic raping a corpse up the an*l pa**age while contracting genital warts
My metaphors are twisted, like that game where you've got to put the Hob-Nob in your gob
If you're the last one to come on the biscuit
I'm so sadistic so I fantasise about finding my Mum's ex floating in a bathtub with his wrists slit
[Hook]
And I'm real sick hearing these pricks talk sh**
They'll get their throats slit cause they're talking to me like I'm thick
And I'm real tired of these bullsh** guys
They best go hide 'cause I'm looking for them on the sly
Cause I've had it up to here, right up to here
Might have to do it 'Reservoir Dogs' style, slice off the ear
Cause I've had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it's obvious they ain't rough enough
[Verse 2]
You best ban TV if you want me to stop
'Cause I'm so heavily influenced by the things that I watch
It ain't just 'Pulp Fiction' and 'Reservoir Dogs'
It's 'Irréversible', 'Baise-Moi', 'City of God'
It's the news on every channel when I turn on the box
It's seeing paedophiles singing on Top of the Pops
Gary Glitter, Michael *Jackson*
On the net Ken Bigley got his neck took off
That's some nasty sh** and still you wonder why I'm sick
When I see this sh** and I say exactly what I think
That's some nasty sh** and still you don't ban it
But you ban computer games, something round here really stinks
What about cigarettes and alcoholic drinks
Or the animal that died just so your wife could wear that mink
You're disgraceful like getting caught pissing in the sink
A white girl won't s** my dick just because it's pink
[Hook]
And I'm real sick hearing these pricks talk sh**
They'll get their throats slit cause they're talking to me like I'm thick
And I'm real tired of these bullsh** guys
They best go hide 'cause I'm looking for them on the sly
Cause I've had it up to here, right up to here
Might have to do it 'Reservoir Dogs' style, slice off the ear
Cause I've had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it's obvious they ain't rough enough, check it
[Verse 3]
The last verse is just as bad as the first
But compared to the second, yo, it's definitely worse
'Cause this is about a guy getting chauffeured in a hearse
Let me do what Nas did and tell this sh** in reverse
The hearse brings the corpse back to the morgue;
The guy from the morgue undresses the corpse;
Embalming fluid goes back out; the blood goes back in;
Body goes back to hospital where it comes alive again;
The paramedics walk backwards like an Irish dance;
Then put the wounded man back in the ambulance;
The ambulance's engine turns back on and his lights flash as the siren plays his favourite song
The guy goes back to the exact spot they found him and the medics and all the pa**ers-by go back where they came from
'Til eventually no-one surrounds him
And the blood pours up him rather than down him
The man then falls upwards back on his feet; stumbles towards a dark figure on the other side of the street;
He walks into the blade that cut his belly
Then he holds his neck which was bleeding already;
He removes his hand so that you can see the cut;
And as the knife undoes the slice it closes back up;
He unsays the words he said which were 'What the f**?'
And unscreams the scream from the first initial cut
Then the blood from his severely severed ear crawls back up his cheek and slowly disappears
As the knife-wielding silhouette unhacks it from the rear
Puts the knife away after reattaching the ear
Then walks backwards through the bushes where he's just regarding nature;
Leaves the guy on a bench un-reading his paper;
Takes the snail he stepped on back from its creator;
Only to be k**ed again when I fast-forward this sh** later
Back in his house now back in his bed
He un-listens to his CD and un-bops his head;
Takes the CD out the player and puts it back in its case which has my name on the cover along with my face
Fast-forward there's been a murder and the police know who done it
They're looking for a motive 'cos they don't know why he done it
Sure enough it don't take that long for them to find a reason and they publicly state it on TV that evening
A couple of months later this sh** gets banned
Like it was me who put that switch in his hand and told him to k** that man
Like this whole song was some kind of sickly devised plan to hurt some poor c*nt I don't even know
And I've never met before in my life
Who it was whoever said 'the pen is mightier than the sword' was right so you'd better think twice before you step to me and pick a fight