[Verse]
Lunar C
You can practice your whole life and you won't have a flow like this so don't try this at home, I am a pro
Bipolar, my cold side has been ghost writing this whole time
Since '05 I've been stoned, yes I'm in my zone
I'm not like them, bitch I'm me, picture me
Switching up on what I believe in
To fit in with these geeks
I remember when I used to do this in my sleep now
I'm finessing like 1997 Prince Naseem

It's second nature I just blackout and put pen to paper
Keep getting high until I've met my maker, yeah
I blaze up everyday I wake and bake
You can bet I'm wavy in the morning like friendly neighbours
Two things I could never be a snitch or a lung donor
I met a chick that cooks weed brownies and does yoga
She begged me to come over
We fucked on her mum's sofa
I'm too nice with it I'm a push over

She keeps texting me flipping 'cos I won't reply
I don't wanna be a prick but that's the way it goes sometimes
I know she has her lonely nights and so do I but she's got vibrators and dildos so I just leave her to her own devices
They wanna fall in love, I get bored
I had a chick that likes chicks and sniffs cocaine
But the women next door is the one she left for so it's a double edge sword how she swings both ways
But god bless groupies and bad bitches
That think talent is sexually transmitted
Don't play with me I'll slap a rapper out of his snapback and
Swing him round by his man-bag
You think you're big as Dwayne Johnson
Used to be the man but you just act now
Get off the rock you hit rock bottom lay the smackdown
Futuristic bad-man my gang's plans are major
I come from nothing like a premature ejaculator
Tryna stack this money up to the roof
But I'm spending hand over fist like a kung-fu salute

Someone slipped something in this bottle I'm drinking
Still trying to get to the bottom of it let that sink in
They know I'm repping I'm a local legend
I used to kill rappers face-to-face I'm not known for sending
Success is the best revenge it's like I stoved their head in
With a loaded weapon no shots fired they don't get mentioned
They're butthurt, they want to stay underground and suffer
But urm
We're addressing it like young thug and his album cover
Barking mad like a retarded staff
You're not hard you just got the roadman starter pack
You've got nothing on me
Your tunes don't get the crowd hyped
So you say ollie ollie ollie
Catch me laid on your wife sweating like I popped a molly
Pound-in-it like a shopping trolley
I just told her she should come a chill if she ain't up to nothing
I don't have Netflix but we could fuck or something
I'm a good for-nothing, ugly looking, scruffy drunken
Mother-fucking, country bumpkin
I've been on my job for a long time
You're stupid if you're standing in my way
My punchlines slump guys
You're not in the same caliber as Jake
Would've known you got punched if it smacked you in the face
Rappers with ghost writers should get oscars instead of grammys
Wait until I get this money I'll be acting flashy
I'll blow it all spend a few racks on a maserati
And the M on the grill like the front a maserati

Putting Bradford on the map I've been smashing these beats since a youngen now every verse is a master piece
Bar-for-bar nobody is matching me
Reporting life from the loony bin
Lunar Step Daddy C!