Don't Flop - Unanymous vs Youthoracle (Round Three) lyrics

[Youthoracle] Yo, I've got not long I've got an inbox off a guy from Plymouth His name's Colin Armstrong He said he gave you a fake name when you met So you'd say that I've got this wrong But when I say it was a while ago up on North Hill you'll know where I got this from You went to Mousetrap and Bang Bang Club together, come on be honest Tom You said you were confused at the time, went back to his for shots and a few hits on the bong You confided in him, got way too f**ed and then you two got it on He wa*ked you off, you got angry, said he took advantage and gave him the wumba Then you left, but he says he forgives you and misses the Donkey Kong schlong Now that blatantly ain't true I literally just made the whole thing up to see what your face would do I said that you hate Asians and you didn't get that defensive over the race issue Mate the only person making everybody think you're gay is you And you know why I know he's a f*ggot? I've come to his ends and I've used it as a holiday And yet my interviews get awkward 'cos I don't know what to say Your interviews get awkward when you start insisting you're not gay But big up to the battler who came out to be himself and not keeping it locked away 'Cos before we knew we did a**ume that it was you frigging poon 'Cos you were trying to s** your mum's punter's co*ks while you was in her womb And I know when you found out your first two on twos You and Chris were fumed Wishing it could be TwoCanymous versus ChrisyBOOM And one last reason that I know you're a gay guy, fatty At Verdict, you couldn't take your eyes of Daylyt's batty And you look like a younger Philip Seymour Hoffman Had the hunger to fill his cheeks more often And on that blog where you reveal your albino fetish it's mad Calling out Villun with some skinny half-naked b**h behind you, that's pathetic and sad We didn't see no breasts or a vag on that f**ing sket of a slag So tell me, how can you prove that wasn't a twelve year old lad? But I bet if you're f**ing that sket though And you cum with that wet flow It's about as awkward as when you try and jump on a Don't Gas set bro Sweaty, fat and dead slow With the beat and the fast tempo So he starts huffing and puffing and panting, pulls out and has to let go Pa** it on to the man who can deal with that 'cos this f*g isn't hetero But forget comparisons to s**, you're making us look bad on sets though If you try and grab the mic when we're doing a Don't Gas set again, no You'll get f**ing rushed by every man and then jacked by Pedro Not really, we'll always let you make a complete twat of yourself So we can all have a giggle behind your back and laugh to ourselves And you think you're gonna go big You must be high off the reefer You only ever go large when you and Kevin go to Ibiza And he's on Facebook for that info For that personal just for shock This brother's Grimm, try that sh** with me you'll get a f**ing box For that fairytale scheme in which it's crooked plots, but it flops 'Cos I get that love from Notts, I'm like Rapunzel's locks And if he did, I'd smack him anyway, so he wouldn't have got far Then I went on his Facebook and from what I saw I could have got pars Start name-dropping his mum, brother and sister, get on them personal shock bars But instead I'll just say, every Sunday, he goes for lunch at his Nana's See if you didn't like me, if you met me I'd be likely to change you But I swear down, if I ever look into the eyes of a stranger Who's been dissing me online then they might be in danger I be knocking out trolls like Hermione Granger There's a lot of love and hate And these trolling c*nts are bait Unless you're criticizing in a constructive way But most are just begging to get top comment Well bloody done mate, you're dubbing slate because we're coming great with a lyrical display But if you want to disrespect us when you see us, how f**ing dare you come and say We'll be like lets go for a f*g and talk about it and then I'll punch you in the face But then again, you're not the real fans who subscribe, support and come and pay You just sit at your computer hating Don't Flop all f**ing day Now you might think I'm mad But everything I've said about him weren't the actual feelings I've felt f** the battle, we both get a lot of hate online so I give my G a bit of help You see he's all about his writing and spitting heat until sh** melts And just like me I can tell he'd rather not sell out than be on the shelf He's a real musician in it for the love of music not the Ps and the wealth So I'll end this on a bless one like take care, stay real, I hope you'll be in good health It's just a shame you're a fat gay ba*tard, who's living a lie and isn't real to himself Time [Unanymous] Ask J Man, I used to be downright greasy, down with sleazy I've got the grammar to make your bones decay, I'll k** you This won't be a clean win Youth, this will be what built you I mean your flow's pretty dutty, but you didn't show up for money if I'm speaking real truth You're broke, your grime sets are moist, and you still ain't got a mildew Now you're a popular guy, but you ain't making any pounds Youth It's ironic that my initials are TV, and it's TV that helped me estimate your current value I mean I was just wondering why with such notoriety you ain't signed But then I watched The Matrix and I found clues I mean I figure since you're an oracle, then surely agents should surround you f** a currency cheque, I do this for love and respect Til they think I'm worth more than that I don't war for cash like governments that torture rat Round here, we like that really f**ing ignorant sort of rap Like f** Nottingham, I'll put Robin Hood in a torture rack If you want to take shots, take shots From the same rot, that caved Goliath's roof in Someone tell the son of Eurydemus I brought Leonidus' troops in If he can't hold his shield correctly it'll jeopardise his movement I'm a malfunctioning cyber-human Blowing up the lab like a science student that don't like his tutors Nasir Jones, look at all the rappers that I influence I write the sort of Ether that'll make you re-write your Blueprints I've been here for years and I ain't moving He's young in the game and I'm a giant to him So when I say he's wet behind his ears, I don't mean his age I mean he'll be leaking spinal fluids When I hang him upside-down and drop this fruit on his head like Isaac Newton I'll give him disfigured arms And laugh beside the bed as the surgeons try to fix his heart You display no vivid art, like Christian window arcs You won't leave with your teeth intact When I release the slap and leave them capped like the Yiddish are This is a battle I won't lose Before I do, I'd strangle my own youth like Chris Benoit I'll leave this circus freak fetus stuffed back in his pickle jar This is attempted murder, my pens are burning - you'll get ripped apart Just like when your oriental mother tried to terminate your birth with a ninja star I've got them overhead light bulbs, white robes And scalpels to prise open Youth with surgical sk** Feels like the baby that got raped in A Serbian Film How you gonna try warring with him blud? I'm raw and broad, you're as tall as an insect Now you're in the deep end Swimming with sharks Nothing but Jaws in an ink pen Your flow's shallow, you don't even need a snorkel for his d**h I'm the sorcerer/swordsman that tore off your king's head But to me you're just meaningless, thoughtless and in-bred Maybe I'll get your point when I take a saw to your index I'll beast and lazy Go ahead and jump at the beast, I'll send your ghost to meet with Swayze Welcome to Devon, the home of smackheads and eating pastry If you don't think that these Plymouth streets are crazy I'll make your motherf**ing mother regret the day she decided to keep her baby When I stop his heartbeat like Stephen Gately And bury Youth on the moors like Ian Brady