Ch-ch-ch-check yo
Real sick hearing these pricks talk sh**
They get throat slit cos they're talkin' to me like I'm thick
And I'm real tired of all these bullsh** guys
They best go hide cos I'm lookin for them on the sly
Cos I've had it up to here, Right up to here
I might have to do it Reservoir Dogs style, slice off the ear
Cos I've had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it's obvious they ain't rough enough
Listen
I'll just talk the talk, I walk it
This is why my mouth is always coming out with raw sh**
My rap styles 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, you just can't ignore it
Especially when I rip out your heart and on my sleeve sport it
Like it's something you think's precious, jus cos your dead gran bought it
I talk so foul, I talk so coarse, I show no regret, I show no remorse
Like a necromaniac raping a corpse, up the an*l pa**age, while contracting genital warts
My metaphors are twisted
Like that game where you gotta put the hobnob in your gob if you're the last one to cum on the biscuit
I'm so sadistic
That's why I fantasize about finding my mum's ex floating in the tub with his wrist slit
And I'm real sick hearing these pricks talk sh**
They get throat slit cos they're talkin to me like I'm thick
And I'm real tired of all these bullsh** guys
They best go hide cos I'm lookin for them on the sly
Cos I've had it up to here, Right up to here
I might have to do it Reservoir Dogs style, slice off the ear
Cos I've had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it's obvious they ain't rough enough
You best ban TV if you want me stop
Cos I'm so heavily influenced by the things that I watch
It ain't just Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs
It's irreversible [?] City OF God?
It's the news on every channel I watch when I turn on the box
You seeing paedophiles signing on Top Of The Pops
Gary Glitter, Michael Jackson what?
On the net, Ken Bigley got his neck tek off
That's some nasty sh**, I you wonder why I'm sick when I see this sh**
And I say exactly what I think
That's some nasty sh**, and you still don't ban it
But you ban computer games
Some things around just really stink
What about cigarettes and alcoholic drinks?
Or the animal that died just so that your wife could wear that minks?
You're disgraceful, like getting caught pissing in the sink
A white girl won't s** my dick jus cos it's pink
And I'm real sick hearing these pricks talk sh**
They get throat slit cos they're talkin to me like I'm thick
And I'm real tired of all these bullsh** guys
They best go hide cos I'm lookin for them on the sly
Cos I've had it up to here, Right up to here
I might have to do it Reservoir Dogs style, slice off the ear
Cos I've had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it's obvious they ain't rough enough
Check it
The last verse is just as bad as the first
But compared to the second, yo, this is definitely worse
Cos this is about a guy gettin chauffeured in a hearse
Let me do what Nas did and tell this sh** in reverse
The hearse brings corpse back to the morgue
The guy from the morgue undresses the corpse
The embalmment fluids goes back out, the blood goes back in
The body goes back to hospital where it comes alive again
The paramedics walk backwards, like an Irish dance
Put the wounded man back in the ambulance
The ambulances engine turns back on
And its lights flashes as the sirens play his favourite song
The guy goes back the exact spot where they found him
And the medics and all the pa**ers-by go back to where they came from
Until 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 you can see the cut
And as the knife undoes the slice it closes back up
He unsays the words, He said, "What you!? What the f**?"
And un-screams the scream from the first initial cut
And then the blood from severely severed ear
Crawls back up his cheek and slowly disappears
As the knife in silhouette slowly un-hacks it from the ear
Puts the knife away after reattaching the ear
Then walks backwards through the bushes where he's disregarding nature
Used to go on the bench, I'm 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 unlistens to his CD and unbops his head
Takes the CD out of the player and puts 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 until they find a reason
And they publicly state it on TV that evening
A couple months later this sh** gets banned
Like it was me that put that switch in his hand
And told him to k** that man
Like this whole song was just some kind of sickly devised plan
To hurt some poor c*nt I don't even know, and have never met before in my life
It's it is then whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword was right
And you'd better think twice before you step to me and pick a fight