Hands Up (Bonus Track)

[Hook]
If you despise rappers who lie in their rhymes hands up
If you could find nine out of ten of these guys who act tough
And rap about gangsters and guns but never strap none
Show me all your money and jewels (and throw your hands up)

If you despise rappers who lie in their rhymes hands up
If you could find nine out of ten of these guys who act tough
And rap about gangsters and guns but never strap none
Show a li'l love and support for your favourite act

[Verse 1]
In the dark with a baseball bat
Serving the taste of crack
And I'll murder your favourite rapper
Then burgle his vacant flat
There are various ways to die
In the mind of a crazy guy
I'll take away your life
Turn up at the funeral to say goodbye
Paper slice you to death with a twenty pound note
After roll it up and sniff the pile of freshly ground coke
I found upon your table
Maybe for a slight joke
I'll bring you back to life
And make you watch the way your wife chokes
Too many rappers talking harder than they'll ever be
I'll drown you in a bath of piss, injecting you with LSD
I carry guns that are bigger than fucking lamp posts
To turn a landmark into a damp hole for your fam so
Many nights I spent alone up in a cold cell
With no bail
But I don't care
To me it's like a hotel
I sell drugs to hells cubs
In the slums depths
I'll kill you for the cake
And feed your family the crumbs left

[Hook]
So all you people throw your hands up
If you could find nine out of ten of these guys who act tough
And rap about gangsters and guns but never strap none
Show me all your money and gems (and throw your hands up)

If you despise rappers who lied in their rhymes hands up
If you could find nine out of ten of these guys who act tough
And rap about gangsters and guns but never strap none
Show a li'l love and support for your favourite thug

[Verse 2]
In the night with a taste for blood
Serving the ways of drugs
And I'll murder your favourite rapper
Then bury them deep in mud
When I draw for the .22's
Roll on a few crews
And I'm holding a screw loose
Head's on a short fuse
I propose that you do choose
To lose your new shoes
Your drugs and your FUBU's
Or I'll murder a few dudes
'Till your calling your close friends
They'll be laid in a closed casket
Burning at both ends
I'm a case for the crazy basket, so
Keep on talking I'll visit your family household
And sew your mouth closed and leave you tied up in an alcove
'Till I'm satisfied I got your drugs, jewels and cash money
I'll slap your baby mummy's face off if she acts funny
I'm the wrong guy in the wrong place for the wrong tango
Carry knifes in my bag to excite John Rambo
On some bad mambo jambo
If the plan goes slightly off the rails
My long nose is like Django's

[Hook]
So all you people throw your hands up
If you could find nine out of ten of these guys who act tough
And rap about gangsters and guns but never strap none
Show me all your money and gems (and throw your hands up)

If you despise rappers who lied in their rhymes hands up
If you could find nine out of ten of these guys who act tough
And rap about gangsters and guns but never strap none
Show a li'l love and support for your favourite thug