Bombs Away

[Chorus]
[?]

[Verse 1]
I heard he rode into town in the private Learjet
With five hot chicken heads, high on crystal meth
People said they wore black ties and ear sets
Snake skin boots with diamond fish nets
Bullshit, I was 'bout to light a cigarette
The prime minister said "Sign my tits Pegz"
I jumped in a limousine with Assange from Wikileaks
And threw a whiskey bottle at a bunch of dignitaries
People talk a lot of bullshit that's miscellaneous
Syndicated 'cross the world, so instantaneous
I heard he was raised by dingoes in Australia
And might be the missin' baby of Lindy Chamberlain
You know the stadium, the haters keep hatin' him
And people got shit for brains fillin' their cranium
He's no saint like Mary McKillop
But god knows, he's a vicarious spirit

[Hook 1]
Man, you ain't hardcore! Keep talkin', talkin'
Man, this shit'll never blow! Keep talkin', talkin'
Hip-hop sucks! Keep talkin', talkin'
I got your whole crew singin' the chorus

[Chorus]
[?] (bombs away)
[?] (the guy everybody loves to hate)
[?] (bombs away)
[?] (the guy everybody loves to hate)

[Verse 2]
I heard he dropped past Winsdor castle
Did lines with a chef in the women's bathroom
Had a parma and chips on a flimsy barstool
Watching Die Antwood sing soprano
People said he nearly caused a big debacle
On the dance floor with an old English couple
He's no saint like Mary McKillop
But gods knows he's a good vicarious spirit

[Hook 2]
Graffiti ain't art! Keep talkin', talkin'
Rap music's for thugs!Keep talkin', talkin'
DJs are whack! Keep talkin', talkin'
I got your whole crew singin' the chorus

[Chorus]
[?] (bombs away)
[?] (the guy everybody loves to hate)
[?] (bombs away)
[?] (the guy everybody loves to hate)

[Verse 3]
Did you hear it through the grapevine? Read it on internet?
Watch it on TV? Receive it as a Twitter text?
People said he painted flying pigs on a police station
And pulled a peacemaker on a chief mason
Seekin' danger like a teenage P-plater
Gettin' chased by satellites and three agents
Cuttin' streets like freeways through green acres
In a V8 with three Collingwood team players
Don't believe the hype, he's just a normal guy
People spreading rumours, tellin' porky pies
Today's headline in the New York Times
Read: Pegz sex tape with Warnie's wife
It's all lies, people never thought he'd rise
They wrote him off like turbo four-wheel-drives
He's no saint like Mary McKillop
But God knows he's a vicarious spirit

[Chorus]
[?] (bombs away)
[?] (the guy everybody loves to hate)
[?] (bombs away)
[?] (the guy everybody loves to hate)