Foreign Beggars - Gimme Dat lyrics

[Verse 1: Orifice Vulgatron] My styles ain't available My flows are f**ing custom fit And if you really want to test I'll leave you with a busted lip Talking about your busty chick when she's just a crusty b**h Leave your whole crew sinking like a f**ing rusty sh** Must have slipped up boy, seems like you've lost your flow Where'd it go? (I don't know) f** off you fa**yole Get your little p**y-arse the f** off my patio Before I smack you proper boy, just like I did your datty hoe My x-ray rhythm see through your lyrical petticoat And underneath your lavish exterior you're just a sweaty bloke The right fight's begun, we shun dumb buffoons With random acts of violence we be spitting up our bit-tunes And coming in too rough for crews tougher than mufflers Eyes redder than blood we be the militant stuff puffers Blubber on the rubber the mutt suffers the game We be playing teeth but ain't we sound the same [Hook] x 2 Hey, yo Watcha gwan do? Orifice, Foreign Beggar fam, roll through Gimme that chain, that jacket, them shoe That wallet with your money and your credit card too [Verse 2] I'mma burn down the house of justice, come watch this Orifice get caught take myself as a hostage So on-key I run a brothel up in the hospice Glue your head to the top I bet you crack like a lost ostrich Even leave the hardest ba*tard gasping for his last breath Finish up the rascal's a** with the sharpest part of a pop wrench You couldn't get us if you had a target up in your gla** lens I smack you claat over back you'll find yourself in the past tense Got more fight than four dykes on a pint of Red Bull Drop bars so heavy you'd think they was made from lead bull Leave them fools wishing their bredrens had kept their heads cool Call me the rhyme scientist but I never went to no med school I'm cool chilling in this hell-bent habitat Keep your garbage pail while you fa**y up your cabbage patch You're like a dirty yat with some flab up on ya scabby twat Decided to decorate and paint the walls of your shabby flat [Hook] x 2 [Verse 3] I'm sitting here cotching by the side of the road Watching the world go by through the eyes of a rogue But no hope for change in this cryptic maze of destruction So far from the light that my sight don't even function I'm hurting in so many places I need a release from all the pain hatred and anger The wrath of these evil streets People say that's the way life goes and I should accept it But I'm not the kind of a guy to comply to the lies of the next dick My sh** is b**hin' I rap for Britain! I'm the sort of man to stick my dick in the back of a kitten Spittin' in your so-twisted pair of sh** at the slightest mention f** that Spanked my monkey when I was at the back of detention Drinking dead rappers trippin' up and kickin' written rhymes Funkin' in the cypher bitin' flows committin' spittin' crimes Little-minded fibbers get confided in for little time Before they get their dingleberries crinkled into dicky wine [Hook] x 2