|
Make way for the S O V |
|
I say first priorities, it just cost me |
|
At Maccy D's at about half three |
|
What you munching on? |
|
Quarter-pounder with cheese? |
|
Chatting about me and Billyes |
|
Now S O V, you wish |
|
S O V, can't speak |
|
S O V, just quit |
|
Aw whatever don't talk with your mouth full |
|
That's alright discussing me |
|
It's all publicity |
|
Even if it's not costing me |
|
You're still dashing my name around the city |
|
It's all good though |
|
Blup, blup publicity for free |
|
White midget, a huh mine fright |
|
Somebody just dialed my digits |
|
Is it for your man? |
|
Is it? |
|
Ha, flatter for the way |
|
That you use your credit |
|
If you go say I'm nobody |
|
Well, if I'm nobody then why are you ringing me? |
|
You drained your credit that's filling it |
|
While my style, you's you're not feeling it? |
|
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah |
|
In one ear and it comes out straight out the other |
|
Repeating yourself like you are a star |
|
Live for your mother like reh reh reh rah |
|
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah |
|
All your words in my brain are turning into clutter |
|
Repeating yourself like you are a star |
|
Live for your mother like reh reh reh rah |
|
Your people want to classify me as an Eminem |
|
What hear? What I'm a different kind of specimen |
|
Just because I be a white Caucasian |
|
Doesn't mean me and him are the same |
|
Because one I'm not American, two I'm not a man |
|
Three I come into with a different kind of plan |
|
Setting the facts straight 'cos I know that I can |
|
Will it ever wait 'cos I do the ultravan? |
|
Categories I don't fit into any |
|
Why? I'm onto top the stars many |
|
Writing out more lines than Bur berry |
|
Then it will be like a victim of 20 |
|
Make them lick my saliva off the floor |
|
That spit that's bad |
|
When I walked in the door |
|
Release my metaphor like O' Blimey |
|
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah |
|
In one ear and it comes out straight out the other |
|
Repeating yourself like you are a star |
|
Live for your mother like reh reh reh rah |
|
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah |
|
All your words in my brain are turning into clutter |
|
Repeating yourself like you are a star |
|
Live for your mother like reh reh reh rah |
|
I know you know most about me over your Sunday roast |
|
Or mid-morning cheese on toast |
|
But when I found out you're talking |
|
It's all different you start squawking |
|
S O V, I never said that |
|
S O V, you know you ain't white |
|
S O V, I love your track |
|
Well, what you want bitch a pound in the bank? |
|
I'm varying 'cause I'm soon to be best friends |
|
From best friends comes the next Blahbarian |
|
They only start caring |
|
When you're preparing the new rhythm |
|
That gets the kids wearing |
|
And oh God, I got posh people swearing |
|
The rich the poor the snobs the whores |
|
Oh, dear Blahbarians galore |
|
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah |
|
In one ear and it comes out straight out the other |
|
Repeating yourself like you are a star |
|
Live for your mother like reh reh reh rah |
|
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah |
|
All your words in my brain are turning into clutter |
|
Repeating yourself like you are a star |
|
Live for your mother like reh reh reh rah |
