Stig of the Dump - From The Future lyrics

[Slang Immaculate] They all got stars in eyes [?] And they're heart ain't never hard as the hype I'm what you like so S-M [B] Smoke My Beef! Dirty, let's get some p**y I know you stash mad gash Why don't you introduce me to three? Nah f** a groupie, it's time London switched rap for dance music and grime And they told me Brighton was hot Brum and Bristol all up in the scene No disrespect there's only Cambridge now see Middle-east of the country, baby, hardest to please Apart from Dike and Big Slang They only really feeling Baxter and Key And Mancunian Don't feel no way nobody hating Just what the f** you're doing isn't entertaining [Uh-huh. uh-huh] Yeah swaggerdaddy can't jack it Cause soon as you lean it forwards I'ma lean it backwards on the track sh** Body motherf**ers, standard A man ain't from where you from You don't be rapping in my accent [Stig of The Dump] Guess who just got back from the boozer Drinking himself into a stupor - loser! Living pissed up without a view for the future But still stay a step ahead just like my huge [?] You wanna know the truth bruv? p**y, weed and alcohol's the only things I do love Plus I couldn't give two f**s! Like I've been [?] astute While tryna twos up a crew s*ut! It's rap's Larry David The hatred made me take it back to the basics My tongue twists like them K-Swiss Trainers While these young pricks tongue-kiss their mate's an*s I ain't tryna make it famous I do it to escape Not for my name in the papers f** the love of it That ain't paying my wages So if you don't know me Don't ask me for favours Laters! [Jam Baxter] f** the cliches, meet J the new baron Spit a two-bar that renames your crew Sharon You rappers move I don't want your tunes, you have 'em Loose cannon clashing like my garms Rocking crew patterns But I don't do fashion, I do talent Do pa**ion, do tracks Do yats til their backs do spasms Neck a few gallons of booze and loose balance Hoof that and straight take off like your tune hasn't There's a huge pack of crews rapping average Couldn't get their sh** out with a huge pack of laxatives! So you stand and grapple with your bodily deposits My crew's back banging like the brothel in my closet So please keep your mouth in the bottom of your pockets When the CP's about, never bother with the gossip much Hockin' up phlegm, set it off with the Dr., Skuff Dike, Beats, Slang and Mr Constant, Drop it bruv! [Skuff] You are now in tune to Dikestar Delegates And Contact Play while Mr. Constant selects the breaks Rowdy like a mental case On a lack of medication That's except I don't fit like the threads I take Anyway Contact Play spitting with delegates Kick like that Ong-Bak brey Missing his elephant No one's a bad influence I'm Mr. Mellowness No girls that won't speak to me Cause I'm a friend of his We're just your everyday, common or garden hedonist Some settled with kids, others are s**ual terrorists Or friends with benefits, depends on your opinion If rap is your religion, I'm that heretic to wreck your kingdom What d'you expect from this and that producer I can tell it from the credits I better ready the heavy future You're now in tune to the old next level sh** Spit more, better and with much less respect, b**h! [Dirty Dike] My name's me and I'm the geezer from the ground floor Sorta sound down, snort I'm not about war I'm not allowed [?] my dick takes the f**ing piss But I'd cut my wrists before I'd give up and love a b**h I got d** to sniff, big stuff to bloody shift Big dubs to paint with my sh**c*nts and f**ing pricks Spliff bunnin in my room, trapped in Planning tunes like I'm listening to New Jack Swing I've heard the truth that's grim It's dim lit and dark avenues A sh**stack of patterns with a binbag of have-to-dos Think that I'm acting loose It's pissflap the quackpig I've been sick since Pissman the Captain And still average wa*king I live by the slog I'm a find a f** pig And have her dick behind the [?] Agh Mr Dike's a c*nt Stand up if you didn't like his stuff Mouth shut and pull your fingers out your c*nt [Edward Scissortongue] Call me the comatose cosmonaut Cop a part cosmic Break codes with a single thought The Ice Age Ironman slowly thaws With his ogre jaws standing so deep on the ocean floor Rate my face twitch and the way my brain ticks Limp-legged hunchback, billin fifty-eight spliffs Until my face splits I spit bars that mean business Like the shades of an agent in the matrix May stick the same disk on every playlist Where you play sh** cause every track's amazing And when someone's like ["Who the f** is this?"] It's a guaranteed fact that Mr. Scissortongue is playing I'm moonwalking down your pavements Rockin Hammer's crime fighting shoes And looking like a vagrant! Dancing with cavemen Still manage to bring some proper soulful rhythm and blues Like the California Raisins [Fliptrix] It's the herb-thirsty writer Cursing on Dirty's side and Puffing on some durban that's certain to murkalise ya Immersed in the earth slurp [?] The way we're living is like we're not even hire-able So being criminal is certainly more desirable You want clean cut Then a set of surgical knives will do I'm getting higher than burglars On the [?] Getting into your world And then sitting there disturbing you Until you start to switch Cause you thinking of turning murderous It's too late for you Some vultures done circled you I still fly, chilling with that turbulence I live life, a million and one purposes The main two I service A verballist-stroke-herballist I k** you inadvertently Triggering some emergency [?] I'm not a Doctor, why nurse that sh** [Leaf-dog] With no ability they tried to see me Blindfolded, walking the plank that leads to the sea When I need herbs, like the third world needs rice You need words, like a mask in a bank heist f** a mic! You can barely hold a conversation! My rhymes have got the power to move you like immigration Never mistaken, I was born in the wastebin Mesmerised by the f**ing snare that I'm chasing Just waiting For my album to be released And my dick's up in your mouth Like a swab from the police [?] is a beast He'll degrade you like a strip search On some next sh** like you found out your dick works Your chance to spit first My stance is stood perched You're brain-dead like your real name was lurch You switch up, used to love boom-bap But like a junkie hit (?) cause you scared of the old track [BVA] I've got thoughts running round my head like they're speeding f** herbs, things could be much worse seeming I'll never stop dreaming, time to stay believing And naturally turn sh** dark like an evening I levitate, close my eyes like I meditate Generate a heavy stone Roam hitting better tapes Here to take the something with real hip hop To let everyone know it's time Like really big clocks Tick but don't tock Lose the plot like a needle The one's that you see looking f**ed up They're my people! And keep what I speak true Because the deep will Make you want to get up Go out and seek sequels If I said I was a rapper Would you preconceive But I'd bet you'd get it totally different to what is me If you want name dropping I'm BVA and see Blow chunks of wisdom when I talk sickly