lirik lagu mr. wrong - blunted hyena style
[verse 1: bill shakes]
my crew’s a bunch of blunted hyenas
packed in a blacked out morris minor with none of its tyres, drunk off white beater
my jumpers f~cking tugging nine heaters
and the barrel on the shotties never measure under five meters
i know it looks like summit died here, an honest liar
it’s not blood, it’s blackcurrant ribena
a drunken airhead, looking at you funny when your blue hoodie turns red
discovered cut~up nerve еnds
abu dodger
absolut vodka sitting off above her birds nеst
i disturb friends but i couldn’t care less
bazooka on the workbench that looks like wooden chair legs
unconfirmed death, never listen properly
smoking spliffs is my hobby
my house is constructed out of bricks of rockie
if i find it burning down, i’ll be running inside just to get high
house warming fires, some more coal to begin
don’t be a shakes, a walking corpse at the wake
[chorus: mr. wrong & bill shakes]
just because your albums sold platinum plus
doesn’t mean you’ve got the sk!lls to rock this mic after us
just because your albums sold platinum plus
doesn’t mean you’ve got the sk!lls to rock this microphone after us
just because your albums sold platinum plus
it doesn’t mean you’ve got the sk!lls to rock this microphone after us
[verse 2: mr. wrong]
why am i ill?
well, lucy in the sky has got bruises on her eyes for denying the sk!lls
that’s according to the censored vision
a pleasant person that will stab your neck with a pen to check it’s working
float like shroom head, i’m two kegs empty
the nicest, i rock mics with bootleg prices
drunk times came courtesy of housing checks, out my head
grunting, tongue tied around my neck
daydreams in which i punch your face in
this is happy horrorcore, banging on my floor to f~ck with satan
(come and sign with blah)
we’ll have you drinking from bowls and play with your life after we initial your soul
cold sagging while you throw tantrums
they’re onto whack cliques
imagining bowling their own domes at them
just roll the whole bag in
my crew communicate using buddah smoke patterns
and so planning your downfall in front of you is something we could be doing
be very f~cking suspicious
i’m broke, i mean i don’t work
this screw’s loose in my brain, in need of a fix
i get the feeling i’m sick ’cause i’m too entertained by movies in which people cease to exist
or ultraviolence, hundreds die in my drunken heist just to buy drinks
me and myself couldn’t give a f~ck what i thinks
[chorus: mr. wrong & bill shakes]
just because your albums sold platinum plus
doesn’t mean you’ve got the sk!lls to rock this mic after us
just because your albums sold platinum plus
doesn’t mean you’ve got the sk!lls to rock this microphone after us
just because your albums sold platinum plus
it doesn’t mean you’ve got the sk!lls to rock this mic after us
just because your albums sold platinum plus
it doesn’t mean you’ve got the sk!lls to rock this microphone after us
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