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rob kelly - dropkicked lyrics

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[verse 1: rob kelly]

who wanna come take a swing at the king of the ring?
barroom brawler leave your f-cking arm in a sling
you can stay rocking jewels, i be rocking your chin
get the antiseptic out cause the jabs gonna sting
i’m the reason that most rappers rhyming shook
got no watch on, i’m going for a timeless look
cause i’m a beer drinker, i down a one man
there’s three things you’ll never see me with
cuts, bruises, or a sun tan
the one man wrecking crew
who you think you reckon you could rip?
i rip rappers apart in a session
you numb nuts, jumped up, son of a f-cked up pair of paris f-ggots
unapparent your appearance
you think i give a d-mn who the f-ck you sinked?
i leave em punched up, snuffed, the jux you thing
understand that the junk you sing is gonna have your f-cking owl one
wonder where the f-ck you went

[verse 2: slaine]

yo i live in a dump, sh-tfaced and dribbling drunk
give him a buck, forty bottle, and a hit of the blunt
i put pestilent poetry on any pitiful punk
spit at a chump leave the f-cking stage littered with chunk
i’ll disfigure your fronts, out for six figures a month
i got friends in high places, tell those midgets to jump
this is your life homie you’re only living it once
we all came here the same way, delivered from c-nts
i’m a son of a gun, gun of a son of a hunter
and with a hundred and one reasons to bust off and act dumb
i’m nutty with the needle and there ain’t no way to fix me
a dirty devil and so dig your ditches if you diss me
i’m p-ssy off the whiskey, i’m higher off the c0ka
my pockets getting broke and my pockets getting broke
some voices got treble, some voices got b-ss
we got the kinda voices that are in your face

[hook x 2]

like the bun to the burger, the burger to the bun
the three to the two to the murder to the one
like the cherry to the apple, the peach to the plum
if you’re quick on the draw better reach for your gun

[verse 3: rob kelly]

i never forget my enemies, i batter the mala
wait till i catch em slipping, crack em right in the jaw
the last one i hit him once he wasn’t ready to fall
so again with the second hand like vincent depaul
i’m ripping em all, really who the f-ck want what?
i crush your pelvis in, leave you all shooked up
i’m all f-cked up, i drank a whole bottle of scotch
spit on the floor, gave a glamour model her shots
i got the hots for a fistfight, a jones for a bare-knuckle scr-pping
i box your t–th in, now try rapping you gummy bear
now you’re dripping blood to your underwear
i’ll bet you didn’t know i had the knuckles tucked under there
i’m from where everybody knows that i’m dumb hot
and you don’t need a guitar to get your punk rocked
the johnny rotten, put your face to the pavement
mad love to andy lee and the gael force f-gan

[hook x 2]

like the bun to the burger, the burger to the bun
the three to the two to the murder to the one
like the cherry to the apple, the peach to the plum
if you f-ck with o’liffey fam, your crew you better run



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