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This Year

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Lyrics

It's still that, Mr. Mangler Mr. Baxter to ban jacksta plans on man's that lack stamina The rap rap scallion, Jam Backa champion I write lines while you're sat mash racking 'em Or standing at the back of 'em But I rammed it it's one in one out One king, one crown, one spliff, one snout One thick skunk cloud, tough shit pup mouth 'Nuff pills munched down One big drug binge one shit come down Some swim some drown, some grin some frown I'm done sounding dumb, so I run rings around 'em now Pound for pound I pound 'em down like I run out of shit to say Spit gifts like it's chimneys on Christmas day Drips of K, sniff 'til the symptoms fade Shit can change and switch in a single day Cause this is life mate, try rave your dumb what I paint my eyeballs a light shade of fuck off I crave the high grade skunk crops And my brain and tongue rock sideways bruv what This year I'm assimilating biomass Ride like an iron clad titan on his final rags Attack mics with a giant hand styled with a cider can Arrive like a fire-gram burning That's grimes like a line of scag try and wrap Shine like a pile of cash sterling I'm swiping that They're the thoughts that you might've had if you were half as Tight as Dick Turpin or twice as mashed You're rap tattered and worn Like the rags that adorn Jam Baxter as standard I fractured my jaw, still raw as the scabs on a cancerous corpse As a swarm of tarantulas hang from my thoughts The man still crawling with anthems Full morphing at random, force of the phantom Haunting your mansions from Crawley to Ackton From Shoreditch to Camden from Dalston to Clapton Applauding your fraff, and you waffle and you babble What's popping slobs am I bothered what's the hassle? (Scrape scrape) Scrape the bottom of the barrel I bop blocks sodden in the soggiest apparel With the Bosh, comma Hieronymus Bop with a bottle and a pocket full of Monicas From, eight to Dactus[?] to Grimmithy Grams From Jake to Jam Baxter from Jimmy to Stan from Mr. Sism to the Simian man We're still rinsing your rizlas and sniffing your grams (Surprise surprise) So it's that S-M-Bizzalicious Smoke my beef 'til it's dripping in your withered innards These days I'm the picture of cynicism Rephrase the heat wave and the winter blizzard Keep sane 'cause I live for this lyricism Understand dunce? Run it back if you didn't listen This year I'm assimilating biomass Ride like an iron clad titan on his final rags Attack mics with a giant hand styled with a cider can Arrive like a fire-gram burning That's grimes like a line of scag try and wrap Shine like a pile of cash sterling I'm swiping that They're the thoughts that you might've had if you were half as Tight as Dick Turpin or twice as mashed Jammy Kilowatt Bigging up Mr. Megahertz Too many fucking steps