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fusebox - dold giggers lyrics

dold giggers lyrics
[intro]
my linguistic base is based and based on basic principles of fire
the low language you employ would have a hard time getting you hired
i’m not trying discriminate, just educate you past this hurdle
you seem like the type of fellow who’d need unlimited tries at wordle
i don’t need to repeat what the other boys are saying
don’t need to deplete what little ego you’re retaining
i just need you to listen and learn what little money you’ll be making (ice)
you won’t get rich by bеing a musician
you don’t get b+tches by disrespеcting women
in britain the competitions so severe
the opposition would eat you like nando’s chicken
i mean what the devil was golddigger supposed to be about?
was there so much sand in your mouth from that beach you forgot to work it out?
a girl shouts 1:16 minutes in, now how’d you make that happen?
it’s probably not the first time you’ve paid a women for her services, i would imagine
listen, i don’t care if it’s your first attempt to make a hit, it sounds like sh+t, and i’m remiss
for bits of my life when i didn’t know this existed + you may as well just completely quit
because your exposition is simply obscene
s+xual positions are not in your league
on weekends i play badminton with the queen
if this is your transmission give me the vaccine!
rap attacking you’s easy, feel like i’m laid back watching jeopardy
ironically surge has surprisingly little of this – what is energy?
you question me? that’s heresy, you’re deplorable, awful, primarily
you’re adorably horrible and i purport you should probably resort to speech therapy. (let me break it)
down for the clown now, time that you found out how bad your bars sound, if you can tap out
i would i’d bow down, thinking out loud now, i’m over you like i’m the dwayne johnson’s eyebrow
and no mcdonalds on a date with a lady
escort her to a park with ice+t and slim shady (ah+ha)
or better yet, drop her one of my bars, watch what she drops in return as i peel off the nylons
like maggie thatcher with the pipe bombs, man’s so hot i got hands like firearms
if golddiggers won’t habitat, maybe bat for the other team
i may be the british one, but i think you get more bbc
i’m off for a kit+kat break and to take a quick p+ss
so without further ado i’d like to pass the mic to my main man chris
[chris interlude]

wow. that was great. thank you chris for all you state
a few words may have been too big for surge so next time try to conjugate
concentrate on my language and diction, burning you like the coefficient of friction
not sure if you understand because you sing like you’re weening off of a heroin addiction
you’re dropping bars like a helium balloon, i’m dropping bars like a phone with 02
in a low reception area. po+wning you like a panda, kung+fu
you’re like boris jonson’s last term in the sense that i want to forget it
you, me, let’s separate like the eu, brexit
making the mother of all omelets, can’t fret over every egg
going to move you to my recycle bin and delete you like a j+peg
you can tell people surge met fuzebox and was promptly rerouted
i have a bracket if you’re man enough to clap back but i highly doubt it
i know you weren’t in it for the golddiggers, but i simply have to pursue
where they ever in it for you?

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