[Intro]
Yo! (Yeah)
Introducing (Who?)
Jam Smackster (Who's that?)
Greasy munch extraordinaire (Oh ok yeah)
And (Who else?)
Ronnie Bosh (Who the fuck's that?)
Hands like paving slabs (Oh shit)

[Verse 1: Jam Baxter]
Shit!
I ripped this lyric out of mucus stains
Puke my brain up in a gruesome state
Used the chewed remains as the glue
To paste your fake crew to the pavement
I fume with rage
When I rap bars damn sharp
So you can use my tune to shave your stupid face
My chats carve phat scars
Cause I'm fresh like your track marks
Leave rap stars rejected like my cash card!
That's harsh
But such is life!
I've run London to Brighton a hundred times
I wonder why I'm such a disgusting sight
It must be the drugs that I'm slumped beside
So if you ain't a fan of my nasal voice
Fuck you, have I made my point?
I wasted coins for days
Chain-blazing joints
And laid lazy and dazed
But I made my choice
I'm so pang I'll be a wasteman for life
With no plans tryna make back the time
But I make tracks and shine like a ruby in a heap of shit
And these weedy pricks think that music is a piece of piss
Please desist!
And who needs a chick man
That cheating bitch got me fuming like a steaming spliff
Read my lips: I'm cleverer
But I'm sitting in the dark with the scars on my retina
Spit another bar and I'll bury ya
Stick it up your arse like an enema
I'm in another class cause I'm heavier!
But yeah I'm still a skinny bastard
My jargon is better and yes
The stress got the best of my temper
Et cetera et cetera et cetera, et cetera
I could rhyme but why
I'm live Skang-Baxter
The Life and times
[Hook: Jam Baxter]
So have your heads clocked
And can you MC?
And have you met Bosh?
And have you met Key?
And have you met me
Jam Back-Stabbing Baxter
Let me see your hands in the back
Wa gwan!?

Deep down I'm merciless
See CP like the three mouths of Cerberus
Beats sound murderous, all week
Too many steps in effect and they're all steep

[Chorus: Ronnie Bosh] (x2)
Talk big
You know it ain't to late to talk big
And don't run your gums when we be talking
You poor pricks can't handle the raw shit

[Verse 2: Ronnie Bosh]
Yeah
Allow your shit bars
I gouged em out your mouth
And ground them down to a powdered ounce
I sniffed half up my rounded snout
When the drips hard
Lets spit harsh pounding sounds
Half-wits can't think fast
But you can give it large
And chant your blase-blah
I rip bars this dark
Cause I'm sick like you pricks aren't
Leave kids scarred and twisted like your wrists are
When the shit starts don't run it
Please, I run London to Leeds with a bunch of freaks
A hundred deep
Went from a lovely teen
To a fucked up runt twenty-something cheek
So if you ain't a fan of my bass-y voice
Fuck you, have I made my point?
Name your poison and wait till your brain's destroyed
Then you'll crack out as hard as my aching joints
I'm like

Talk big
Since its never too late to have a .. coin
Talk big
Even though you applaud its a short lived make some noise I'm like
Talk big
But no bigger than the torn strip of paper I snort with
Talk big
Lightbulb kids talking shit till their jaws stiff!

[Hook 2: Ronnie Bosh]
Whats your next plan?
And is your head straight
I know you met Jam
But have you met Daze?
And have you met Ade
A.k.a Hieronymous Bosh
Lemme see your hands for the drop
Like what!

Deep down I'm ravenous
See CP like them three rowdy scavengers
Beat sound damagers
All sick!
Too many steps in effect when we talk big
[Chorus](x2)
Talk big
You know it ain't to late to talk big
And don't run your gums when we be talking
You poor pricks can't handle the raw shit