Here's some.
I manipulate and flip and take the fucking english language/
Hate between layers of beats, till it's like a friggin' sandwhich/
I don't go for connotations, there is no singing, dancing/
Just give me instrumentals and i'll give you instant classics
Songwriters unite, and what i would incite/
Is that we hunt down, attack, and crush biters tonight
Fuck must, i do this cause i want to, you dumb fucks/
I like fucking up your ears, so i can leave you concussed/
Whatever you might think, i am not fussed/
I've enough skill to fend you off and then get you pumped up/
Have you come back looking for a punch up/
But i dodge, you look like you're punching worse than a drunk fuck/
By this point, you're in the road, dumbstruck/
As i speed at you, honking in a 120-ton truck/
Then i do a barrel roll and scoop your scattering guts up/
In a cup, sold in butchers and there is no refund, duck/
When you find bits of his hair in the pie that you cooked up/
I know it's fucking ginger but it still tastes good, but/
I'm kidding Ron, the guy i'm on about is just some/
Random idiot who thought he'd say my raps were not good (cunt)/
And by the way, i'm bored, can you tell?/
Why am i saying all this shit, cause i might as well, just 'cause i'm fucked up
The "i know it's fucking ginger" is a reference to my later mentioned mate Ron, who is ginger
