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letra de no goodnik - mr. wrong

respectable, until i’m in the presence of another human
whilst you’re in the other room i’m chilling with your mother, shroomin’
over the top like f-ck a punch, i’ll nuke ’em
you’re in the house, and then we kick you out the club and move in
cold liver-f-ckin-poolin’
i’m sick throwing up a chewed limb a decapitated head and my guts to prove it
break your spine, remove skull
satan’s finest pupil
seeing me results with eye-removal
green? i need to buy a room full
suicide is useful when life is too dull
well, shroomin’ in h-ll, i specialise in abusing my health
and have a problem with everyone including myself
hot-headed, but keep my brain on ice
i’m the type to survive apocalypse then build a doomsday device
only doing sh-t that i’ll regret in later life
f-ck a soul, i pray to christ and get put on hold
drank a gallon, lost my balance in the daze
i’m not dancing in the rain, unless i’m standing on your grave

the illest branded hopeless, rats who strangle roaches
smoke this and expialidocious
mr. wrong, the pro f-ckwit
not your regular nogoodnik

yo, i improvise a perfect verse
’cause i lack the brainpower just to learn the words
the only degree that i’m capable of getting’s found in-between third and burns
time of my life, h-ll’s kitchen blitzed my dole
i get served with germs then tip them with my soul
an evil lout, losing a piece of his mind every time a word leaves his mouth
act rude, pro-violence
dead within, i’ve got xs tattooed across the insides of both eyelids
(mr. wrong)
lives beyond the outer limits
armageddon is coming and i impatiently count the minutes
downing spirits, grimey drunks
f-ck a pen i write my rhymes in dust
sh-t, and this isn’t even the f-cking foul version
so many rappers have fell off, i could slip now and just be crowd-surfing
pauper folk
with pipe-dreams of boiling water
broke as f-ck, tryna blag somebody’s spoilt daughter
f-ck you all, die
i destroy the aura of any peaceful environment i so much as walk by

even if i p-ss unnoticed, rats who strangle roaches
smoke this and expialidocious
mr. wrong, the pro f-ckwit
not your regular nogoodnik

(talking)

still high and drunk, awake but my eyes are shut
an attempt to rise and fall, i light the blunt i didn’t finish the night before
room smells of broke hoes and skol
a hangover in which i try and cure with a few co-codamol
possibly five or more, climb over the body by the door
find it’s too early to box some weed
so i head for the shop and leave with nothing but a c-ke and a tabloid paper that i forgot to read
eyes are bloodshot, dropped my keys on the step
disturbing the couple now snarling at me by the busstop
finally found that keyhole, slammed the door
walked towards the stairs, ignored the phone-call from work
feel angry for a moment and then i’m floating again
on another outing, gotta find some more weed before i even think of finishing this alb-m

(yeah, put on the gl-sses, b-st-rds)

- mr wrong

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