Lunar C - Strictly Indo lyrics

[Chorus x 2] Indo, never no Strictly Indo never no ? Strictly Indo never no ?(Lunar C) Strictly Indo never no ?(Fly Tippers) If I ain't the realest then they was Ready to eliminate ever animal on Noah's ark and Ana Nicole Smith died of a broken heart Trying to get one up on me like Mario with a golf kart Your fueuds with inner circle can't take side it's no point Roll joints, in business meeting can't run me up Strictly indo, never c**aine Used to sniff it 'til my lips were Scabby and I couldn't f**k But I had to quit though my rent was so late You only get props when you rat to your mates Them yes men got you ga**ed go get back in your lane And you was sweared to dig your grave with your casket away Them Paul bearers are ready though get carried away Probably shouldn't have got drunk before the concert Had to punch my hype man for saying all the wrong words Over achiever I can I saw I conquered Told your b***h that I'm that man though When she can I saw she concurred [Chorus x2] [Verse 2] D**k got her on her knew like the sack religious is sacrilegious You say amen and then it's back to business Smoke clouds in the room like a fumigator High up the level study ? trying to study me like euthanasia But big words and obscure references don't Compensate for or s**t verse and pop penmanship I just say what I mean and move on you Dummies carry on your rhyme schemes for too long FT hooligan cruising in a stolen Trying to set fire to your house while you Mow the garden and shove the badger door Off it hinges and got a broken arm struggling To get the f**king batteries out the smoke alarm I was dropped on my head at the top of some steps As a toddler I messed up keep topping my meds up Kush and a blue slim tell these kiddies no war Coming to the smoking session with Liver rizza's and cold sores [Chorus x2] [Verses] Told my psychiatrist that I'm an addict Put all my vices on the table Like it's woodwork cla** If I could turn back time I wouldn't change A f**king thing life's to short To be dwelling on what could've been All these MC's swear that they're real Until they get pounds signs in their Eyes and up turning into c**ks**ers I'm at the point in my career where Rappers usually do pops songs and Stay on the radio but I'm not gonna I don't wear a leather skirt or a Jesus piece I rather rock a checkered shirt and jherri curls like Eazy E And I don't care who I'm offending when I Speak the beat got them all nodding Their head like they agree with me I don't censor s**t so what if they're over Sensitive what they gonna do if I offend them Maybe I'll get a**a**inated during a cypher Session and die for my profession Like the flight attendants on 9/11