This Year

[Intro]
Yeah, hahah, who put all these fucking steps here
Was it you?

[Verse 1: Jam Baxter]
It's still that, Mr. Mangler
Mr. Baxter to ban jacksta plans on man's that lack stamina
The rap rap scallion, Jam Backa champion
I write lines while you're sat mash racking 'em
Or standing at the back of 'em
But I rammed it it's one in one out
One king, one crown, one spliff, one snout
One thick skunk cloud, tough shit pup mouth
'Nuff pills munched down
One big drug binge one shit come down
Some swim some drown, some grin some frown
I'm done sounding dumb, so I run rings around 'em now
Pound for pound I pound 'em down like
I run out of shit to say, spit gifts like it's chimneys on Christmas day
Drips of K, sniff 'til the symptoms fade
Shit can change and switch in a single day
Cause this is life mate, try rave your dumb what
I paint my eyeballs a light shade of fuck off
I crave the high grade skunk crops
And my brain and tongue rock sine waves bruv what

[Hook: Jam Baxter]
This year I'm assimilating biomass
Ride like an iron clad titan on his final rags
Attack mics with a giant hand styled with a cider can
Arrive like a fire-gram burning
That's grimes like a line of scag try and wrap
Shine like a pile of cash sterling I'm swiping that
They're the thoughts that you might've had if you were half as
Tight as Dick Turpin or twice as mashed

[Verse 2: Jam Baxter]
You're rap tattered and worn
Like the rags that adorn Jam Baxter as standard
I fractured my jaw, still raw as the scabs on a cancerous corpse
As a swarm of tarantulas hang from my thoughts
The man still crawling with anthems
Full morphing at random, force of the phantom
Haunting your mansions from Crawley to Ackton
From Shoreditch to Camden from Dalston to Clapton
Applauding your fraff, and you waffle and you babble
What's popping slobs am I bothered what's the hassle?
(Scrape scrape) Scrape the bottom of the barrel
I bop blocks sodden in the soggiest apparel
With the Bosh, comma Hieronymus
Bop with a bottle and a pocket full of monikers
Cause from, eight to dactus[?] to Grimmithy Grams
From Jake to Jam Baxter from Jimmy to Stan from
Mr. Sism to the Simian man we're still
Rinsing your rizlas and sniffing your grams
(Surprise surprise)
So it's that S-M-Bizzalicious
Smoke My Beef 'til it's dripping in your withered innards
These days I'm the picture of cynicism
Rephrase the heat wave and the winter blizzard
Keep sane 'cause I live for this lyricism
Understand dunce run it back if you didn't listen

[Hook: Jam Baxter]
This year I'm assimilating biomass
Ride like an iron clad titan on his final rags
Attack mics with a giant hand styled with a cider can
Arrive like a fire-gram burning
That's grimes like a line of scag try and wrap
Shine like a pile of cash sterling I'm swiping that
They're the thoughts that you might've had if you were half as
Tight as Dick Turpin or twice as mashed

[Outro]
Jammy Kilowatt
Bigging up Mr. Megahertz
Too many fucking steps