[Verse 1]
First off, fuck your sister and the bitches you claim
North Side when we ride, you can call me names!
Cowards die a 1000 deaths but a soulja dies once!
Talking shit behind my back, we know you fear my response
Plus you needed some peeps, you can never C Me!
Stupid choice you made, messing with an MC!
Making good decisions isn’t your cup of tea
A salty ass wanker that is all I can see
Now I’m finally free from your punchable face
Boring bitchy bastard brought me back to the bass
Bicken Back Beeing Bool, you can hear what I see
Call yourself British, you don’t even drink tea
Oh the time you tried to fight me, the next second you cried
In front those mediocre maidens you kept getting friendzoned by
Your homies wank in the mirror, my homies they can floss
How can a rule sucker ever be the fucking Boss?
[Interlude]
Holla at Me bitch, go on look for your needle
And tell your fucking sister I don’t mess with posh people
Right! I can see straight through you, white knight
You can only win If I Die 2Nite!
Oh Bitch I ain’t the guy to fight
And who the fuck studies on a Friday night?
The hours when I live in my rapper’s delight
So you stay quiet!
[Verse 2]
Real Lads, they spit it right in your face
Choking like a pussy when I set you the pace!
Your very own medicine, gives you the taste
Cause the boring bitchy bastard brought me back to the bass!
Getting laced in the pain, Heavy In The Game!
Bitch ass fucking wanker, you are ratchet insane
Taking left of last laugh lane. Lonely wack ass player hater
And you dare to have the guts just to call me a traitor?
Call yourself a walking calculator, next to that you’re a coward
And you couldn’t calculate my mighty lyrical power!
You wouldn’t be real if it saved your non-existing life
If you get me a cob on, I cut sharper than a knife
In your skin, fat and bones. All you do is wank and moan
On your friendzoning bitches, wait a decade for the phone!
Cause a lying ass gob, that was all that you had
You acting dead mad, So Sad. Real Muddafukkin’ Lads!
[Bridge]
Real Muddafukkin’ Lads, they don’t get their gob full of wank
Staying on the ship until that useless bitch sank
These normies need to buy a back bone, jumping on-off the fads
But our ridaz keeping it 100, Real Muddafukkin’ Lads!
[Verse 3]
Melt down like a snowflake, you’re allergic to heat
And slacker said he gonna diss me, I could give you a beat
Plus a pen, a pad, a mic. Feeling like a home defeat
Relegated to my notebook and my mighty five line sheets!
Next to Benji, Steve and Rabbit. You’re in that list too
If Man Utd was a person, it would surely be you
Arrogant, entitled, completely full of shit!
Something doesn’t go your way, you throw a toddler mocking fit
When I was drunk like a Scouser, you behaved like a Manc
And we all know you never get a twat full of wank!
Busting nuts on your ex, you better bust a bitch!
Player hating tricks, they will never be rich
No-one cares ‘bout your games, no-one cares that you fight
Now you need a triple belt just to get through the night
Ditched your own diss, cause you knew it was bad
You acting dead mad, So Sad. Real Muddafukkin’ Lads!
[Outro]
Real Muddafukkin’ Lads, we don’t spill the tea
Real Muddafukkin’ Lads, we keep it G!
Real Muddafukkin’ Lads, watching footy with beer
Real Muddafukkin’ Lads, fucking through our fears
Real Muddafukkin’ Lads, they don’t stab back
Real Muddafukkin’ Lads, we will have a dab!
Real Muddafukkin’ Lads, they can make a mistake
Real Muddafukkin’ Lads, they can let go the brakes
Real Muddafukkin’ Lads, punish pussy pricks
Real Muddafukkin’ Lads, they would never suck a dick!
So Sad, be glad. Our boys and bitches bad!
Red rashes from the bullshit cause we are Real Muddafukkin’ Lads!