Текст песни
Do you wanna know where that man is from?
He's on Snapchat, you cunt
And then I saw a big man
I got 4/10 every time I put that in a story
Miss is like "what's that?"
Windowsills, it's finished Mrs. Twat
Rolling hills, black yachts and sexy stills
Blokes can't help me
He's got his tits out, he's doing a selfie
On the med, he's el tel
He's like when smokie sings, abc
Shiny '80s blings, cor blimey!
I can't see it
Bollocks, they have to rely on showbiz nodders
Like fake London genius
Pretty shit, first season was alright but that's about it
You like music that much then start fucking listening to it
Deep down, I bought the sweater
Used it as cocaine pyjamas
What a waste of dough
Pulling it out when I'm on the snow
Fucking waste, didn't feel right as a daytime top
Felt like I was try to be trendy when I'm not
So when I got in and I was off me bollocks, mates are like "Fuck, even his pyjamas are proper."
Yeah, mate
I don't fuck about
I'm making sure I don't get my kids anything to fucking feel embarrassed about
Snout
Two out of 3
Snout
Four out of 2
Snout
Three out of four
See me!
Snout
Two out of 3
Snout
Four out of 2
Snout
Three out of four
See me!
Stinky pinkie
Who, bellend whiffy
Scratching my head as the people burn for what they wanted
You can see it, can't ya?
Car crash into the void of the Magna Carta
But this time it's Superdry and not fucking armour
How dare I slam the uniform of the working class
Condemn me please, you wanker, to life inside a working glass
Like a spider, suffocated to death for a fucking fiver by scared kids
Like scared kids 'cause that's all you are