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And we have never found the right man to bring them to gether in the spirit of Christian harmony, but I think that you, Ted, are the man! What the hell is going on here, how dare they do this to me?! It sank after about a mile and they were eaten by crocodiles. The Vatican has decided to elevate the Holy Stone of Clonrichert to a Class Two Relic.
Father Purcell: We run the gas off the electricity and the electricity off the gas and we save two hundred pounds a year, but then a few weeks later ah god, I'll never forget it now, we got a new boiler..."Father Purcell: Because you know they have no morals and no respect for human life. They'll be sending a few bishops over, to conduct a ceremony. Drive by shootings in the night, it'll be like Boys in the Hood.
Coming over here, taking and our jobs and our women and acting like the own the feckin' place! Mrs Doyle was telling me that it's got magnets on its tail, so's if you're made out of metal it can attach itself to you and instead of a mouth, it's got four arses!
Glad someone had the guts to stand up to them at last! Its claws are as big as cups and for some reason, it's got a tremendous fear of stamps!
Whether you're in HMV or KFC, HMP or A&E I make them see a-n-d.
let you know the c-a-s-e From LDN not NYC, on the m-i-c I'm M. B., Like BIG the MVP, VIP to the e-n-d E.g., my CD, is way to d-e-e-p That goes for your TV screen, DVD or BBC ITN or ITV, C-O-Ps say "ID please" S-t-o-p like IC3, wanna see me hooked to an IV, g In the ICU but Im n-o-t, they went OT with the m-o-b Can't see me through the f-o-g Don't cuss mothers of S. B's These MC's are OAPs Wanna hype up I'm like "okay, g." You think you're b-a-d Get a p-e-n and a p-a-d If the CIA and the FBI, the MI6 and the MI5 Jump on the A3 then I drive, turn up the A/C, FYI MJ like P.
It's over partner, you know the answer Drop bombs on the rhythm, no Obama Baseline murderer, fake guy hurter, race line hurdler Face flying all over the place like furniture I'm back so hard might break my vertebrae Beat breaker, heat taker, sheet of paper cremator, since a teenager DJs can't be BKRs cause if they do they'll get PAR'd I'm back so let me see, the facts are very deep You prats will never see, I rap to any beat Pack the pen and P, practice every week Attack the melody, and smash my enemies Not a sent bro, but you're getting dough With a bent flow jacking off Jay-Z like a little klepto And the tempo went slow Done a lot in my lifetime, I was retro Everybody bow to the king cause he's back Whether or not radio was in his track Forget Nas and his dad, I'm bridging the gap You think it's just rap, but it's bigger than that If it's tit for tat, I got the gift of the gat What you spit is just shit, blood, stick to the facts You itch like a cat that's addicted to crack I'm sick of you Prats, cause you shitheads is whack I'm a G, any beat, I will damage Very deep, whether it be grime or garage Enemies better flee, I won't have it You'll never be ahead of me you blind old maggot If you really really live crime, don't chat it If you really really got a 9, go grab it Then, if you're live, don't hide, don't panic Just ride like a psycho that might go manic Don't settle with the rest, cause I'm better than the best Not just clever, yes I'm intelligent and best you Better invest in some weapons and a vest You veterans are vexed, irrelevant and stressed Keep telling us your rep, but you never get respect You fed up cause seven of your regiments are messed You could get a bit of press for that ice on your neck It's not credit, it's a debt I'm here for the beat, just save all the nonsense Murk it whether a rave or a concert When I'm on stage, make way for the monster Key to the Game: I came, toured, and conquered Spit on your bars, I spray more for longer You spit boring, chainsaw's are stronger You're a boxer, wait, you're a mobster Ain't got time for fake fraud impostors I'm a champ, deep MC and it's blatant But tramps wanna sleep on me like a pavement When I speak, I leave them chiefs in amazement Meanest genius, I'm free like a mason But I don't sleep with police at the station I'm writing my rhymes, you're completing your statement Running from the swine while you're eating your bacon Don't rip beats, I beat them and break 'em Most MCs don't believe them or rate 'em It's no secret, these neeks are just hating Keep on saying that my team isn't flaming Light fire like them trees that you're blazing Double P, trouble we, there'll be an invasion Test us?
You spit fire, I'm molten lava Flow so cold I scold your father Sold your soul for gold and Prada Who do you know who's flow goes harder?
You lack the facts that go back-to-back, b When I watch you rap it's like crazy comedy I got a 'don't rate fake G' policy Fuck your awards, I don't rate these nominees Just little fickle Jay-Z wannabes You hobos are old and It's oh so true No promo, logo, or photo-shoot Fuck your postcode, MOBO and polo suit My opponents are hoping I won't go through I'm certainly burning these burglars verbally Merking these merkers 'til mercenaries murder me Burst in and turnin' your Burberry burgundy Guernsey to Germany, Jersey to Bermondsey True rhymes, ain't got a pen?