[Verse 1]

He's just another foul captor full of these rappers who lack the wow factor
Tell 'em straight to their face and they wanna scowl at ya
Proud actors feeding off false encouragement
And bottle fed freaks who reek of their own punishment
You can't tell me nothing about this rap ting here
Say sutting it fall on a deaf ear like what?
Full steaming this bitch with your best gear, what's that?
Got something to say come on let's hear oi
Pour liquor into my right kidney and stick your middles up in the atmosphere if you're with me
Man I don't give a fuck where your from
Race, colour, creed, sexuality or relig-ion
Gone, let's get this show on the road
Blow and unload, counting up the doe that I'm owed
While I tick boxes, catching flies with one chopstick
Killing live shows with a flow that's become toxic
As soon as he drops it don't wheel it
I mean it with your fingers in your ears you can still feel it
That shit that manifest from within the chest
Who'd have guessed I was more butters than an EasyJet stewardess?
Yes, it's cool dress me
I know what they're trying to pull but it's all bless me
That's what you call messy
I'm still scrawny, 10% angry 90% horny
Your mums calling is a regular occurrence
So I linked her up to dead off the pussy without the pet insurance
Secure in the knowledge I'm on some next endurance
I'll murder your disco for less than 20 duros
Surely you've heard of me on that tune when I'm bolting all prematurely and throwing salt in the wound
2pac isn't dead you mug and Biggies on the moon
They've got Jimi Hendrix on the decks and Whitney on the spoon
Soon come but then we've moved on
She loves a ginger chicken mushroom with the udon
Can't rely on the shovel to get the mood on
That's why I backed the gal and then hammered it like a true don
Man a rudeboy, your a new boy
Who the fuck is talking to you boy?
Swear to god, Buddha and Allah
If it isn't over something it's the mother fucking udder
You shudder, il keep on bunning that lemony hubba-dolla
It's naddah but not really
Take a step back might see it a lot clearly
Snap your neck back as I giggle and bop freely
Catch a sunburn, with that ahh you got pealy
Pop wheely, shot CD's are dropped yearly
A lot of rappers think they're coming close but not nearly
Stick it in your face and let the brains blow
I stay wavy like the end credits of a game show
Two parable, incomparable
The way I keep twisting them up like balloon animals
Yeah Dabbla's on that shit that you couldn't write, not in your fucking life
Gimme the fucking mic!
Gimme the women, the jewellery, cars and funds and a big fuck off skip I can burn them in when I'm done
I'll sum it up in one stale breath, fetch the bayonets
I'd love to burn a milli I haven't got that care left
Saying that il be back on that shit I started with
Me, myself and I have decided to form a partnership
A tried relationship, you get three strikes
Before we all turn up on bikes and start spraying shit
This back in the day and shit
Could always count on Dabbla cause his rappers ain't saying shit
I'll stick to this gig and I'll keep chipping away and shit
They must fucking love it cause it really ain't paying shit
Well I am m getting paid but it's hard to explain and shit
Ain't enough to maintain a stable relationship
Ain't enough to cop a fucking yacht or a plane and ship
This weird entertainment shit, I swear to god
It can fuck right off!