Bang On! - Got it | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Bang On!
• Got it

I'm still holed up, sitting at home ready to go nuts
slaving over a hot stove, cooking up hold cuts,
So much for trying keep to keep out of trouble,
co I'm bored s***less now,
get the beak out, let's rumble kidda,
see the meat's ground and then put in pitta,
I'm p***ing off cos its 3 pound for a fucking bitter,
I swear you've never seen the likes in your life
plus I.O.U are 3 vowels I don't utter ever, [never!]
So get your mits off what you did not earn, lad,
you've got to learn what this shit cost,
I sold my soul for it and I got ripped off,
so if s*** goes t**s up naa, it's hil loss!
So trust me!
You wouldn't like me when I'm angry,
I don't turn green but I frighten namby-pamby,
bambi-esque, first-steps,
quite the little pansy
lad that think they're bad.
We can try it if you fancy?!

Chorus:
I've got saffron
I've got the ark of covenant,
I've got the cat's pyjamas,
and you're not getting none of them!
Cos I don't know what "IT" is but I've got it! x2

You'd think that I bullied the beef,
when I put the North Face on,
always worn with the hoodie underneath,
so come and cut your teeth, these are testing times,
blood, sweat and tears
all for the next electrical appliance
and all that,
I can tell that you think it's "all that",
the grand hustle,
it's the jack russel ballsack,
I'm the tall chap
retiring to his quarters for a short nap,
holding s*** roll and a porn mag,
read between the lines,
make like a beak-head bookworm
and you'll see in time,
really I'm being chassed by CGI,
life-sized penises with the beediest eyes,
Sorry but I think the c*** are after me,
so it's less a w*** and more assault and battery,
see me bop casually through town on me blackberry,
with Peter Andre blasting in a show of solidarity!

Chorus x2

I float like a dead body,
sting like gonnorhea,
no cauliflowe ears, I defy norms,
like blind fawns
they've got no eye deer
how the fuck I do it,
hours of gulping fluids,
thousand of fucking units,
get found in my drunken stupors,
surrounded by tonns of students,
howling at hullaballoo-ness, who is?
This lad,
well he looks a bit mad,
took a bird home, said he own 26 cats,
a mish mash of mismatched kidders that live fast,
picking fattys with big racks to lick their pussies flaps
like Johnny Vegas in drag,
what you'd imagine him to look like,
or some s***,
I swear they've been blagged,
got a bin bag slung over me shoulder,
for every sin that I haven't atoned for,
same reason I got a fucking hangover
and a bang in the back of the bower hat holder!

Chorus x2

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