Blunted Razors

[Verse 1 - Farma G]
I have been sipping on a hideous concoction
That seemed to make the world and all its creatures malfunction
And looking through the eyes of evil Edna on production
And using any gravestone I can find to build a dungeon
The sequence I'm compiling has me howling at the moon at 12
And sitting on a toadstool telling stories to a crew of elves
The likelihood that you will ever feel the fucking same again
We see him with a hunchback ringing bells with just a ball and chain
Its meager, listen to the daydream believer
’Cause Mickey's not a monkey, he's a mouse that smoked sativa
Look into my inner eye and tell me not a porky pie
’Cause either I'm the genesis or this is just your genocide
No joke, no white sheets with the man inside
I'm haunted by the things that money brings but it cannot buy
So sing a lullaby for Rosemary
Her baby is a devils child
And when she screams her nose will bleed
And this is not a TV show of hoes who have a silly dream
Of making loads of cash from being something I could never be
I'm generating hoards of killer dolphins so that when you swim
They'll smack you half to death
With a beating from their dorsal fin
Down in the underworld the beast is almost belly up
'Cause man is natural sinister, he even made Beelze-blub
Fucking baby ay, he's praying who can save the day
My world is now a place that makes the devil wanna run away

[Hook - Chester P]
Did you ever see a rapper with our names on his tongue
Even if he never did it, make him tell you what he's done
String him up, string him up, make him tell you what he’s done
String him up, string him up, make him tell you what he’s done
Did you ever see a rapper with our names on his tongue
Even if he never did it, make him tell you what he's done
String him up, string him up, make him tell you what he’s done
String him up, string him up, make him tell you what he's done

[Verse 2 - Chester P]
I'm an urban inner city man, don't get up out your pretty pram
I’ll slap you with a shitty hand, then feed you to a gritty clan
Of pitiless religious freaks, who'll chop you into little bits
Then pop you into jars
And go and store you in the fridge for weeks
Each with little stickers saying "something for the kids to eat"
When times are hard then I'll steal a car and go and find your yard
Then burn it to the tarmac before I take the car back
Me I'll take another trip to go to try to find your ma
And teach that bitch a lesson, how to raise a decent little guy
And take her fucking junkie pins and give her artificial eyes
There is no glory in a suicidal battle cry
I'll slit your blubbered belly and leave you looking at your appetite
I'll use your little brain to paint a fucking satellite
So stay the fuck away unless you're coming here to die tonight
And don't be tripping when you're walking in the streets I tread
I may be vegetarian don't think I wouldn't eat your leg
And grab you by your greasy hair and tie it to a stolen ped
And drag you through the streets
Until it pulls it out your swollen head
I bury all opponents dead beneath the fucking ground here
So bring yourself some armour if you're gonna come around here
I'll send you both your girls ears
I swear my fucking worlds weird
Don't fucking piss me off you twatty toffs
I'll grab the sheep shears
And kill you in your sleep counting sheep man I blacked out
So hold your fucking tongue before I cut your fucking cats out

[Hook]
Did you ever see a rapper with our names on his tongue
Even if he never did it, make him tell you what he's done
String him up, string him up, make him tell you what he's done
String him up, string him up, make him tell you what he's done
Did you ever see a rapper with our names on his tongue
Even if he never did it, make him tell you what he's done
String him up, string him up, make him tell you what he's done
String him up, string him up, make him tell you what he's done