dilly (faux|echt) - cracker. lyrics
[into + dilly]
walking around on top of the world
it’s cold
my foot’s in the snow by the pole at the north
malamute running this sled to the end of the earth
i’m one with the wolves
[verse 1 + dilly]
pack with me, on me, any day you see if you want it know it got it, if you can afford
i was on pedals they worried ’bout taxes, insurance and petty to whip them a ford
forevermore
wonder how i had to money to buy what i wanted and more
spent till i’m poor, like the rest of you
whatever, money man that’s what it’s for
camp boy, with the tent pitched in a wh0res lips
marshmallows n smores
i’m at thе door
kicking it off of its hinges and taking what’s yours
never been bothеred by felonies, judges or barristers, bobbies or laws
never see me in court
only time i ever caught, when risking diseases from strangers
when going in raw!
nothing been caught
clean as a whistle, she blow like bad ref
you got a bad rep
that’s why we don’t see you in adjourn
you a lyricist, keep my business out your jaw when my d+ck in it
clutching at straws
i’ll be on tour
talkin my business and poaching your custom, suppliers, investors, shareholders & stores
come and see what’s in store!
uncultured, faux and echt
you want war?
you just ain’t the sort..
everyone looked, but n0body saw
they don’t see perfection, so it must be flawed
shrink packages like chilly w+ll++s
do this w+lly nilly, theres no effort, this isn’t a sport
dilly been handling bizzy
you silly billys couldn’t call it before
[hook + dilly]
don’t call me a cracker! (that racist!)
i ain’t ever smoked crack! (not a nitty!)
i ain’t ever cracked a whip…
unless i cracked it at yer witch
she cast a spell on my d+ck (alakazam)
not the type that burn n itch
the type that feel like you had 7 blueys
it’s the 6th day being stiff
i don’t want it to flop
[verse 2 + svdlvd]
nahh!
but i want it to stop
these feelings of dread that leak out from ma top
when i’m counting my blessings and can’t get to dos
i just wanna doss
i’m feeling cross
put me on a cross
crossing some names off the list of the teefs in my life that i floss
at least the ones i ain’t lost in the mosh
let alone when i cotch
i don’t give a toss!
you lot are just toffs scoffing at ma botched sonnets bout whats poppin, no shots
round ‘ere get your watch lost, wallet pocked
noggin all boshed in the moss
take the lesson, not a loss
we got beef and there’s a cost
if you acost me on road then i’m off
spending yer guap
down at the shop like…
bossman, gimmie long sheets, raw tips, orange squash and a voss
i just be pound packing, of a fat snackage
got me feeling like devon’s rick ross (yeah)
your all expendable characters
bent to my will like the lemmings that drop
these undercovers on my case
my life like a book that ian flemming would jot (yeah)
f+ck a chair pop a squat
when i’m scrubbing muck that don’t come off in the wash
you all out here building characters
i’m just an npc with some quest n jobs
to give to the mandem that come up in my studes
‘expect to get sent to the shop
you ain’t a motor, a piston, a chain, not a screw or a nut
you ain’t even a cog
i’m on the bog, dropping a log
logging these lyrics while smoking this dog
room is all pitch black, all smoked out, svdlvd just emerged from the fog
miss me with your slop top, honey, i don’t keep it sweet
find another lad to pop off
fragile boy with the mind soft
never thinking inside of your box
[hook + dilly]
don’t call me a cracker! (that racist!)
i ain’t ever smoked crack! (not a nitty!)
i ain’t ever cracked a whip…
unless i cracked it at yer witch
she cast a spell on my d+ck (alakazam)
not the type that burn n itch
the type that feel like you had 7 blueys
it’s the 6th day being stiff
i don’t want it to flop
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