Captain’s Quarters

[Rustage]
Welcome to the Captain’s Quarters
It’s all back in order
I be getting healthy so I ordered my big mac with water
Acting cautious
On my ship you’re trapped, Andorra
Getting in my way I leave 'em crushed like they a bag of walkers

They acting Useless like reddit karma
They lacking answers
I’ll make 'em perish, like I’m Obama
They crash like java
I pull the llama
I be grinding time in Stardew Valley
So by now I think I’m qualified to be a farmer

Nеver had a ciggy but smoking the competition
Thеy listen
The only time I drop the mic is when I’m trippin
Non-fiction, my blood is mythical
Biblical, making miracles
My brother caused a motherfucking flood when he was christened

Look at all the people who watch me on every Friday
Look at all the rappers that copy my font and typeface
They be getting bread I be getting carbohydrates
When they hear the beat then they be ducking like a sidechain

[The Stupendium]
A lazy Sunday sitting comfy in the country
When suddenly the butler Humphrey comes to bug me
The Captain wants some company in the club. Lovely jubbly
You’ve heard of getting smashed? I’ll be getting Humpty Dumptied
Every time I step up in the booth I’m supping on suds with a touch of vermouth
Dunking my tongue in its russet-y hues or some other subtly bubbly fluid
Intricate mixture of pickling my innards and tickling my quill til’ I suddenly spew
Lyrical wizardry, spitting my musical missives like bibbidi bobbidi boo
Climbing the drapes. I’m going ape. Raising the roof just like Shwabadi do
‘Cause it’s the bear necessities to reap a little hulla-Baloo
These chaps got the raps on tap, The Cap, the Chairman and Douglby too
There’s nothing to do but glug on a couple of rums and a lovely pineapple juice
Nouveau riche trio here to stir some trouble
One minute at the bar I’m already seeing doubles
Or triples, quadruples, you know why they call them tipples?
‘Cause I’m tipping back the spirits ‘til I’m filled up to the nipples

[Dan Bull]
My rhyme schemes are convoluted, some are genius, some are stupid
And as soon as you should hear them, your mind becomes polluted
I’m the undisputed tycoon of high-falutin’ music
Providing you with highly putrid views, no time to mute it
I’m just too quick, I can’t just spit on the mic, I leave it glistening
Bright with slimy mucous. Your wife still finds that I’m the cutest...
And though my pride and hubris invites a looming crisis
I regardless find the lark just far too amusing to quit
I might lose a few quid, but I’ll recoup it
By revealing my new trick, it’s killing you with half a billiard cue stick
I haven’t devised a method to monetise it really but fook it
I just find gratuitous mindless violence soothing, therapeutic
That’s half the fun, now pass the rum, I’d like a glass of some
And now I'm lining up the shots faster than a starting gun
Then slurping 'em so hard it’s like a harlot’s bum that’s farting cum
Christ, what the fuck have I just done?