I wake late for a typical day
Of getting [bad word] till it’s difficult
But isn’t it strange? It ain’t miserable
Wishing that the limit would raise
To a simple bit of spirit in my lyrical rage
I riddle flipping pages that’s miracle laced
Until you ring all your mates and tell them “listen to James”
Tickle his brain and scribble his name like hitting the train
villainous mate you wouldn’t want a kick in the face
Cause I gaze distant
I’ll play with your sisters
And mate I’m as dangerous as pacing with scissors
I’ll make hits blatantly making you face it
You’re saved in my database list full of fake [bad word] Take this
Now I’m just wasted and laid back
Inhale the vapours that raise from my eighth sack
Jade-rapping James with the payback
And mate that is straight fact
Breaking the scales like your waist fat
My stage act collapses and now it’s back to my habitat
Act like a lab rat trapped in an aggy rap
And [bad word] carpet burns, she’ll get a scabby back
Stabby stab stab till her [bad word] is a baggy gash
And I’m just [bad word] words to scoop dirt flirt with the tune
Abuse my new verse
Future first, think last
Drink from a pink glass lined with the brink but I sink fast
Wink glass eyes at the stars but I can’t fly
???? by half the laughs in this harsh life
I ask why and all I get is an odd look
Of friends trying to answer this question with God booksIt’s me missing maths and my head can’t figure sums
Hitting [bad word]  licking at your sister with a vicious tongue
With a [bad word] for your money’s, bring quicker son
I’ve listened to your lyrics for some spirit and there isn’t none
So isn’t your mum a little bit dumb
For letting six different husbands deliver the [bad word] [bad word] rhythm-less
Kick a fuss up and get your innards bust
Scissored up viciously until your [bad word] [bad word] puss
Plus giving slugs love with your little slug
Its sick as [bad word]  give it up [bad word] and listen up
Cause oh dear you’re in trouble now, shut your mouth [bad word] [bad word] out with a sound and it’s [bad word] loud
Drown as my thunder cloud shouts out the [bad word] round clubs with an ounce up his [bad word] snout
Being me, that’s a big joke
Never quit smoking and wear [bad word] clothes at discos
The nose-picking hobo hopes for a sick show
Wishbone slips as I focus and tiptoe
Spit flows doper than most of you pricks know [bad word] soaked lyricist wishing that this [bad word] blows
Ghost float mission levitate with a head of snakes
Never say never to the heavens when the devil waits
Clever mates trying to beg when the record breaks
Weapons raised, sabers displayed, let’s celebrate.