Tekst piosenki:
Taskmaster burst the bionic zit-splitter Breakneck speed we drown ten pints of bitter We lean all day and some say that ain't productive That depend upon the demons that you're stuck with Cause right now, I see clearer than most I sit here contending with this cheese on toast I feel the pain of a third world famine Segue, we count them blessings and keep jamming It's him scumbag, scum of the earth, his worth was nil Until he gained the skill of tongues From fifteen years young straight to my greyback self I stay top shelf material, jerk chicken, jerk fish Breakaway slave, bliss Generate gees and then we stash 'em in the Swiss Fools can't see this, audio pistols A fistful of hip hop banzai, progressing in the flesh Esoteric quotes, most frightening Duppy took a hold of my hand while I was writing Let go me ting, duppy, let go me hand I summon up the power of banana clan... Witness the fitness The Cruffiton liveth One hope, one quest Swigging that beetroot juice, now we dipping and boost Set the spirit dem loose, go head go slash up the noose We conclusive proof of both the truth, the right Cause whether we hitchhike or push bike or travel kind of trash Manifest that with wholesome roots rap, manifest that, yeah! I do my same way, ain't nothing else I know Gone up in the life with this here rag-and-bone flow Squeeze the pain from my belly and set my soul free Travel over ocean, land and sea, face nuff stress and difficulty Flung back from the brink, gwan in kinda stink We don't give a frigg about what dem fools think Frigg your network, our debt work a speak for itself Proof of the trophy and champion belt Come sun, come rain, come hailstone pelt [Chorus x4] Bwana Smith with some old time shit Let the whole world know we on some off-key tip Mega-manic when time the pressure start lick By the hook or by the crook, by the poop or by the kick He's sickly cryptic, spitting that code And most proud to present that Cruffiton mode And it shows that they bros done seen a few sleights Life throws scenarios, reality bites We in collision with the beast Lost we religion and we can't get no peace Idiot weakhearts want to take I for chief Stoop to their level and we plotting cold grief But we should know that discipline maketh the gees Separation of the DAT from the rap, that's a must Proceed set speed with the Cruffiton touch Proceed set speed..Cruffiton, y'all...
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