Stinky Posse

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Lyrics

You lost your jobs at Mackintosh To the wrath of Josh it's for the best for you to be packing up That foot you're passing off is a fap of Donnie's Gaining jacking off to Asher Roth A fist to your face will have you seeing stars like astronauts Ratchet, deliver the drugs in a package There's plenty fish in the sea but I fuck with the Krakens DSM got my back in Chilling, blazing, relaxing Gyal on my iPhone WhatsAppping She's seeing him but she's asking When can she next see a nigga? Sexy brownin' with a petite figure Got her reminiscing about when I was deep in her See Josh be the nigga still got 'em in the midst of the gorilla Everything's Swayze, blazing but from Dam Standing tall in some Air Max Sagging, imported from Japan Them man are on the way by Yam I beat 'em to the plot of the plan I'm plotting plots in the land They're girded by sheep 'cause they're little lambs G-R-U-double-B Overseas, got your whole team under siege Fuck the dead weight, I'm shedding skin How on earth are you possibly gonna test the king? Animal, vegetable, mineral, I'm better than everything Past, present and future, positive and negative Getting money is imperative If it wasn't before it is now 'cause I said it is I'm just trying to do my thing, you should do your own And keep your mouth stitched like a voodoo doll Business as usual, trying to blag the Aykroyd money I like my chicks with big tits like Bad Boy Bubby Or a tabloid junkie Page 3, pervin' in the corner shop And walk it off, hands all grubby Crashed dummy, dashboard bloody Glass poured lovely, yeah That's all buddy, I'm hungry This morning I billed a big tune This afternoon I rolled up another one too This evening I backflipped a mighty big tune So tomorrow yeah you know what the stinkers gonna do Every day it be the same shit Rearrange my phrases Reloading these rhythms, revising each rugged playlist Won't leave in no places for fools in my station You best drop back Fuck your squad and all them dick chasers Out-thinking your logic, I'm thinking you're lard And that don't mean you're big, it means I'll fry a prick fast See your gally's arses asking for a real quick pass I'ma take that, chicken shop and dine a bitch large All chips and no chicken And at the end of the day whether male, 1-8 or whether finger licking One position, rock on the floor or feeling finished Fuck words of wisdom, I'll be talking shit king I run the block with the fully unloaded Glock cocked Just to clock if I can front it or not I don't bother with what you got to say I only talk in monologue Giving the old wives tale, heroine of the plot A lot of poppycock got me hot Makes mummy calling me poppy, what? 'Cause I'm a boxer, Rocky cross, just spot the dot Whack MCs, stay off me cock I ain't dropping squat, diddly-dot You must be kidding me I polish off a Kia stroganoff Then come round to your house and drop a lot So fucking fat you'll need a lumberjack to unblock the path So what's the soft analysis of your office job paralysis? Blud I'm swag as shit Blagging chicks with those Johnny Cochran banishments Blud cut, try handle this, word to Pythagoras Serpentine gang of lits re-emerging like Lazarus To earth for 5 acid trips then excursion right back to it Cleanest demeanour, fucking R as in Rita Pass a litre of sangria and chief cheeba with Sangeeta Vash pleaser, sag double, sag black, Baghdad leader I drop bombs and condoms, fucking bitch in long johns Don Juan eating wontons Waving Maxima like pom-poms Not a cheerleader, fierce creature, link a track Mind even though it's a clear feature Clear features teach, pierce, I'm a peer teacher Pierce hammer, Pierce Bronson 107, Got that murder licence Burner silenced, all he heard was silence Gone before I heard the sirens All I heard is careers are dying Was in A&E, caught his A&R Round my strap, buying brains Blowing on a bitch sat buying Sleazy S baby and the F Aims four four, got that 4-4 Spatter four four four, drunken master, rap warlord The Guinness caner, swigging Jäger, instigator Gripped in paper, and duck out on a chicken chaser I'm a prick but who isn't? You are, you twat, only task I stuck to was poo sniffing We threw the bickens now the crew is missing Corporate knew the victims Booze and ism, losing your vision 20/20 Mad dog, I'm superstitious So I let the bitches do the dishes Flattened cities backing whiskey, mariachi give me These days I don't smoke no slab with ciggy Notorious, clapping Biggie Blunt smoker, never spent a month sober Hungover, left to dry Always swam against the tide Leg a pint of pesticide We met for nights Munch me dad buttery McMurray Nose cut from Sawdust, cookies and curry