[Verse 1: Winston Griim]
More uncouth then a sooth telling street walker
In the booth like a curb stomping street talker
[?] get dorks like meat lockers
An average ally cat, a lamp light beat stalker
Treat knockers dwelling down in the dungeon
That's where we keep the misfits, suburbs of London
A superb attack, one for all of the minutemen
Had the damn lobsterbacks and all the men trembling
Simple thing planet's spun around the sun
Use to write for fun, but now my words are on a run
Wrote that part with a lack of morning coffee
Say something back, but my train of thought lost me
So easy to rap about nothing
Got a lot of puns so it's gotta mean something
Floss me y'all and you'll get the Griim jaw
Don't test V, he's quick on the draw
Ain't no law when we all get together
Whole posse click like boot spurs and leather
Birds of a feather, Winston Griim the old school bandit
Look so criminal with missing tooth candids
Really gotta hand it, these tracks straight regal
It's really quite feeble I'll explain it in the sequel
Night, much love, y'all cats stay evil!