Hey, what do you do?

What's yer thing?
Mine's rap
It got a bit shit but never mind that
I ain't really big, I just rhyme man
If I had a quid for every handshake or cypher pass
Ah, still on the pointless task
But at times a laugh so it covers the cracks
Covered up with drugs
That crave for touch gets a temporary crutch
Melodies and music, I lose my nut
I am part of the beat my breath adjusts
We speak on beat
That's how deep it is to us
(Mozi: 'Meow')
Searching for purpose
Life is a verse, versus us
Not rehearsed…

[Mog]
So fae the street, where the people compete
For every scrap of cash or pussy they get
Into the struggles of the rap game
Nothing's changed, money and fame
Is something everybody's out to cement
Vent
Now try and tell me that a cunt can fuck with me on the track
I bet I beat him to the heid and the back
Fae the knees to the sack
Here's the weed, put the green in the fag
As we proceed to crack the teeth of the yak
Blow off the heid and pour the B down the hatch
Until we start to see the green of the glass
RIP to those that D'd in the past
Cunts treat emceeing like a menial task
As if it's nothing but a means to the cash
Or easy access to a piece of ass
But what you really need to ask is; 'who's feeling that'
What's appealing when these people rap about pealing caps
I say we need to bring the meaning back
Cause all I'm hearing's crap
And there's nothing realer than that