Strictly Indo

[Chorus x 2]
Indo, never no
Strictly Indo never no [?]
Strictly Indo never no [?] (Lunar C)
Strictly Indo never no [?] (Fly Tippers)

[Verse 1]
If I ain't the realest then there was
Really two of every animal on Noah's ark and
Anna Nicole Smith died of a broken heart
Trying to get one up on me like Mario with a gold coin
No feuds within the circle, can't take sides, there's no point
Roll joints in business meetings and count money up
Strictly indo, never cocaine
Used to sniff it 'til my lips were
Scabby and I couldn't fuck
But I had to quit it though, my rent was so late
You only get props when you rap to your mates
Them yes men got you gassed, go get back in your lane
And you was spade to dig your grave with, your casket awaits
Them pallbearers are ready, don't get carried away
Probably shouldn't have got drunk before the concert
Had to punch my hype man for saying all the wrong words
Over achiever, I came, I saw, I conquered
Told your bitch that I'm that man though
When she came I saw she concurred

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 2]
Dick got her on her knees worshipping like the sack's religious it's sacrilegious
You say amen and then it's back to business
Smoke clouds in the room like a fumigator
High up the level ? are trying to top me like euthanasia
But big words and obscure references don't
Compensate for shit verses and poor penmanship
I just say what I mean and move on you
Dummies carry on your rhyme schemes for too long
FT hooligan cruising in a stolen car
Trying to set fire to your house while you mow the garden
Shoulder barged the door off it's hinges and got a broken arm
Struggling to get the fucking batteries out the smoke alarm
I was dropped on my head at the top of some steps
As a toddler I messed up, keep topping my meds up
Kush in a blue slim tell these kiddies no more
Coming to the smoking session with
Flavoured Rizlas and cold sores

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 3]
Told my psychiatrist that I'm an addict
Put all my vices on the table like it's woodwork class
If I could turn back time I wouldn't change a fucking thing
Life's too short to be dwelling on what could've been
All these MC's swear that they're real
'til they get pound signs in their
Eyes and turn into cocksuckers
I'm at the point in my career where
Rappers usually do pops songs and
Stay on the radio but I'm not gonna
I don't wear a leather skirt and a Jesus piece
I rather rock a checkered shirt and Jheri curls like Eazy-E
And I don't care who I'm offending when I speak the beat
Got them all nodding their head like they agree with me
I don't censor shit, so what if they're oversensitive
What they gonna do if I offend 'em?
Maybe I'll get assassinated during a cypher session
And die for my profession like the flight attendants on 9/11