SLAINE - Dropkicked lyrics

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SLAINE - Dropkicked lyrics

[Verse 1: Rob Kelly] Who wanna come take a swing at the king of the ring? Barroom brawler leave your f**ing arm in a sling You can stay rocking j**els, I be rocking your chin Get the antiseptic out cause the jabs gonna sting I'm the reason that most rappers rhyming shook Got no watch on, I'm going for a timeless look Cause I'm a beer drinker, I down a one man There's three things you'll never see me with Cuts, bruises, or a sun tan The one man wrecking crew Who you think you reckon you could rip? I rip rappers apart in a session You numb nuts, jumped up, son of a f**ed up pair of Paris f*ggots Unapparent your appearance You think I give a damn who the f** you sinked? I leave em punched up, snuffed, the jux you thing Understand that the junk you sing is gonna have your f**ing owl one Wonder where the f** you went [Verse 2: Slaine] Yo I live in a dump, sh**faced and dribbling drunk Give him a buck, forty bottle, and a hit of the blunt I put pestilent poetry on any pitiful punk Spit at a chump leave the f**ing stage littered with chunk I'll disfigure your fronts, out for six figures a month I got friends in high places, tell those midgets to jump This is your life homie you're only living it once We all came here the same way, delivered from c*nts I'm a son of a gun, gun of a son of a hunter And with a hundred and one reasons to bust off and act dumb I'm nutty with the needle and there ain't no way to fix me A dirty devil and so dig your ditches if you diss me I'm pissy off the whiskey, I'm higher off the coka My pockets getting broke and my pockets getting broke Some voices got treble, some voices got ba** We got the kinda voices that are in your face [Hook x 2] Like the bun to the burger, the burger to the bun The three to the two to the murder to the one Like the cherry to the apple, the peach to the plum If you're quick on the draw better reach for your gun [Verse 3: Rob Kelly] I never forget my enemies, I batter the Mala Wait till I catch em slipping, crack em right in the jaw The last one I hit him once he wasn't ready to fall So again with the second hand like Vincent DePaul I'm ripping em all, really who the f** want what? I crush your pelvis in, leave you all shooked up I'm all f**ed up, I drank a whole bottle of scotch Spit on the floor, gave a glamour model her shots I got the hots for a fistfight, a jones for a bare-knuckle scrapping I box your teeth in, now try rapping you gummy bear Now you're dripping blood to your underwear I'll bet you didn't know I had the knuckles tucked under there I'm from where everybody knows that I'm dumb hot And you don't need a guitar to get your punk rocked The Johnny Rotten, put your face to the pavement Mad love to Andy Lee and the Gael force f*gan [Hook x 2] Like the bun to the burger, the burger to the bun The three to the two to the murder to the one Like the cherry to the apple, the peach to the plum If you f** with O'Liffey Fam, your crew you better run