| Face the storm and bring it on!
|
| Face the storm and bring it on!
|
| Face the storm and bring it on!
|
| Flame on!
|
| We burn mikes like a toxin
|
| Snipes and hoods are rocking
|
| Docking fist-to-fist
|
| Don’t take the risk with the misters
|
| We give ear drums blisters
|
| And twist your shadowboxing
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| Ignite the night 'cos we be crazy like the
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| Culture Ultravoxing
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| We smoke the peace pipe
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| With brares who’d snap your face with
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| So stop adopting the stush attitude
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| That’s criss like Eubanks
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| You couldn’t even beat us
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| Not even with two tanks
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| I’m bigger than you, thanks
|
| You couldn’t identify us
|
| Why? |
| (Why?! Why?!)
|
| Tell them that it’s Brotherhood flavour (Why?! Why?!)
|
| 'Cos we kick it like this…
|
| Oh my Lord, it is the quick-fire specialist
|
| Blowing up tracks like I was a biochemist
|
| Watch us smash this, watch us do this
|
| We’re going to make our lyrics make you swing to the groove, kid
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| Abracadabra when we flex stagger
|
| So, watch the horror
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| Flick
|
| And pick up your dic
|
| Tionary
|
| And try to deflect the direct commentary
|
| Shit gets scary
|
| I’m silencing the lambs, even the little one with Mary
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| I’m quite contrary when I burn it cold blooded
|
| A bush flaming, never taming, never been hunted
|
| Incognito
|
| Pyro-psycho
|
| Two parts Semtex vex one with nitro
|
| And yes I might go live like Minugs
|
| Ooh, make 'em 'Aah' when I’m cunning with my lingus
|
| Ooh, ahh, by the Eric Cantona
|
| I’m on-ball, I’m on point
|
| With my crew I smoke a joint
|
| 'Nuff said, on the head check the dread
|
| I make like a preachy rapper sermon when your arse is dead
|
| Now watch a string vest bandit slam shit
|
| Making more money than a motherfucking Clampett
|
| Torturing your brain, irritating like a migraine
|
| Fuckery in a fight, doing shit just for spite
|
| I come fi smite
|
| So keep your butt in the light
|
| I’m born in the gutter
|
| Strictly out for bread and butter
|
| X marks the spot, so I dig till I drop
|
| Drop, drop, drop the dead donkey
|
| We be breaking fake MCs
|
| For example
|
| We trample
|
| And pull apart
|
| Upstarts
|
| Ride 'em like carts
|
| And burn that arse like a fart
|
| Raped, pillaged
|
| Subsequently buggered
|
| Lock 'em in the cupboard with the bones of Mrs Hubbard
|
| You give me lip, you give me are never learning
|
| Ain’t nothing in particular
|
| (Burn, baby, burn)
|
| Ain’t nothing in particular
|
| (Burn, baby, burn)
|
| Ain’t nothing in particular
|
| (Burn, baby, burn)
|
| It ain’t nothing in particular
|
| (Burn, baby, burn)
|
| It ain’t nothing in particular
|
| (Burn, baby, burn)
|
| It ain’t nothing in particular
|
| (Burn, baby, burn)
|
| It ain’t nothing in particular
|
| (Burn, baby, burn)
|
| It ain’t nothing in particular
|
| (Burn, baby, burn)
|
| It ain’t nothing in particular
|
| (Burn, baby, burn)
|
| Face the storm and bring it on!
|
| Face the storm and bring it on!
|
| Face the storm and bring it on! |