Foil Fronts

I’m an old school post modern man
Marxist, intellectual Waka Flocka fan
My vodka probably hasn’t even got a brand like
But who cares I’ve got a few birds numbers on my hand man
Chatting shit in some sort of Scouse mongrel slang
Trying to blag my way into the promise land and
There’s only such much your imaginary God can stand
The lad’s are like drop it laa let’s just box a scran
Haggle and dabble then skedaddle back to the castle
Slick enough to bunk on Anthony’s Travel
I set an average example my role model
Was a scowling ignorant scal with a tag on his ankle
And now I’m nicking from Mal’s, keblaow
Fishing for dinner in the canal
Before we find ourselves in it at the deep end
Can you lend me some of your beak spend’s please friend?
I need some new clothes for this week’s trend
No laa but ring Ste Queng, funny you!
We bop around sunny Runny in a hurry like pfft what a dump!
A lot of shit happened since we watched Forrest Gump
What do you do except get palatick? That’s it!
Oh and make classic’s brassick
Manic depressive rap shit with a smile and a fat spliff
I’m blitzed
Money, hoes, blunt’s and foil fronts x 8