Don’t play me for man rooted back in the sand or should he stand
Back, suited and calm, look I’m a man bullied
Of crass beauty in black hoodies and stark duties
Smash glass pussies like Hank Moody with band groupies
You can’t move me, This movie that I perfected
Has got me addressing cuts like a scrupulous new director
I’m not to be shaken, better get better or I’ma end em
And tell em against their will that their out no referendum
I keep sending em all orders to call doctors,
Knock all rosters from office before I got on it
I’m not novice, I’m hot topic, A Ball dropper
Smash tall vodkas like Paul Walker does all corners
Mate I make your brain depart ye
Out yer head like half your fucking frame was made of paper mache
These rappers couldn’t fucking beat me in a gamer derby
Shoot like Jamie Vardy on a litre batch of straight Bacardi
A man hated for his villainous traits,
And militant ways, no patience mate I’m cutting the breaks
You try and catch up, take a couple of days
I’m saying back up and get the fuck out my face
(Get the fuck out my face) I’ve got nothing to say
They wanna man up, like they got what it takes
But never stand up, and I got nothing but hate
I’m telling Rappers back up and get the fuck out my face
And If I gotta die, fuck it make a promise son
My coffin and my stone will still depict me as an awful cunt
that resurrected from the dead, a zombie golem one
That threw a donkey punch at the Mormon mum of Donald Trump
You’re not a rapper or writer of any kind
I’m inclined to contort your spine in booth when I kick a rhyme
Lets put it all into line so fuckers aint left behind
You’re as bad at writing raps as me when I’m writing grime
Fuck, Just try and get me affy it cause
I’m half retarded with a heart plate that badly contorts
I woulda hung you from the ceiling in my flat but forgot
I kept the space above my bed for the Damocles sword ugh
So keep giving it the amateur stunts
Up On the camera, my calibers a class above cunts
Keep your burd upon the end of my tongue
That’s innuendo meant to say she’s hanging onto my words ah haa
A man hated for his villainous traits,
And militant ways, no patience mate I’m cutting the breaks
You try and catch up, take a couple of days
I’m saying back up and get the fuck out my face
(Get the fuck out my face) I’ve got nothing to say
They wanna man up, like they got what it takes
But never stand up, and I got nothing but hate
I’m telling Rappers back up and get the fuck out my face