Текст песни Bottle - Dead Players, Jam Baxter, Dabbla

Bottle

Oi shh
The largest thing you’ve ever seen
Multiplied a thousand times
Doubling in size each second of every hour twice
Re-inflated daily by a legion of the deepest lungs
Still couldn’t cast a single shadow on what we become
Oi Baxter why you bleeding son?
I’ll tell if I knew myself
Super stealth jets are crashing in my mind the future melts
Pilots parachuting out my teeth and bursting into flames
And landing on a petrol sodden sound scape we bring the pain
What?
Think I’m lying? (No)
Like the carbon copy kittens writtens dripping fraff about the crack they’re
still supplying
Bruv' I sold drugs for years and I was fucking awful at it
If I still did it, I wouldn’t hot it up by talking damage
Damn its late, watch it all evaporate (wooooooh!)
Yam a fake sugar spewing sewer moving rattle snake
The accolades I’m saving for my heads that understand the journey (wooooooh!)
Tryna murk with you were born to get the planet dirty
I don’t really wanna hear 'em talk now
Cos they don’t wanna hear us kick the door down
How much of this bottle should I pour out?
How about all of it? All of it, All of it, All of it
Jammin' in the league with my feet up
And my whole damn teams looking lean up
How much of this scene can we eat up?
How about all of it? All of it, All of it, All of it
Watch all of it twist like contortionists
Kicking up a fine fuss
Fuck getting caught in this
Next mans web of lies, eight legged lunatics
A couple grubby bars turn pursuers into fugitives
Yeah, and its all clicking into place (wooooooh!)
Winner takes all of it as all of 'em disintegrate
See every single figures faced with us given time and charmer
Amuse the mind and human eyes of your reclining master
And I’m the silent partner
The fire starting suicidal martyr
Who’d like to welcome you to my disaster
Just an ordinary man tryna' find the answer
And I can cut you with my hands but the eye’s are faster
Nineteen seven thousand feet
Flying charter
Dropping bombs on the dance floor, find your partner
Come we sing a song of bygones, sayonara
And give me something I can vibe on
Like the la-la
They say that imitation is the greatest form of flattery
Love to see you fakers try and copy man exactly
Dabbla keep it running like an every lasting battery
Don’t ever try and class me in a category
Or ask me what the matter be
Matter fact its happening, snappily
Welcome to the Dead Players faculty
Never could you tackle me
As for looking at me like you know me
Yer' I owe you something and for looking back at me
The game in the vanacamy
Keep a kitty catting in the cattery
Kill a catalogue cause a catastrophe
In all of your anatomy
Nothing but debauchery and blasphemy
Talking bout it acting all irrationally
How boring can a rapper be?
Actually, Actually factually
I hope your fam are bleeding from the apathy
Needs to be and has to be
For looking manufactured from the factory
I’ll slap you and your strawberry daiquiri
More than satisfactory
Naturally epitome of staying real (wooooooh!)
We ain’t in the same feel Motherfucker
Everything we touch is getting flame grilled
You ain’t even part boiled
Our soil
Snooping on you losers like gargoyles
Run the rally from up in the valley, never shabby
Get the gally we paddy picking to get the tally
Whose ya' daddy kabaddy the cat is out the baggy
We get 'em aggy from Waltham Abbey to Abu Dhabi
Yo, pass the tramadol, get the fuck out of here will ya