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letra de a demo (ft. uncle morton, pb craig) - uncle morton

his name mike coupland, and he been eating too many pies, you can bet he’s a greasy c-nt – greasier than k fry. d-mn you really think you’re sl!ck telling peeps to get fitter, while yo m-th-f-cking fat -ss just keeps on getting bigger. bit ironic when you told jamie that he’s fat, when you can’t even tie your shoelaces – d-mn bro that’s whack. get it? cause you’re way too overweight, afraid you might fall over and cause an earthquake. yea you say you’re a footy player but your shape tells me otherwise, i guess a regular meal you for is 2 large shakes and fries. mike, mike, mike get on your bike, do some exercise, go for a hike, your b-tch -ss looks like a f-cking dyk-, i pray for the day you get on the mic, get on yo knees and blow on my pipe, you and i will never be alike, i got more heat than the third reich, feel like putting your head on a spike, or f-cking your mum while you watch us on skype. woah that last bar went a bit too hard, a bit like my d-ck in your nans’ tight -ss. feeling all heated that’s okay, ill p-ss the mic to my n-gger pbcraig
you’d be a decent coach if you could actually play you fall on your -ss when you demonstrate your moody af like when b-tches menstruate i have a question.. can you m-st-rbate they say free #bobby but i say free your d-ck tell me why the f-ck you look like a tic tac toe you d-mn hoe you act hard but look like marshmallow you told my man jamie to get on top if mike coupland tried youd just drop and flop and probably never stop physically you’re the opposite of the rock your innapropriate i hope you get fired why the f-ck you always tired your presence isn’t required need a new job try michelin tyres i love couplands i ain’t gone lie i love my bread and steak filled pies football is your claim to fame wouldn’t think it just looking at your frame why’re you hare like a rabbit you is a queer yes a f-ggot you like little kiddies so pedophile too you look like a ghost so why don’t you say boo youd be better off hanging off a boat as an anchor im sick of your sh-t you fat ugly w-nker stop talking trash you b-tch -ss peter griffin taking cuz’s job nah coach you trippin you act like like a king who wears a crown in a city of votes your campaign would drown your talent is missing go check lost and found you always walk around wearing a frown sadly your career is only going south bullsh-t is all the comes out of your mouth you can’t tie your lace you are a disgrace im sick of seeing your ugly -ss face i ain’t religious but i pray that you fall diet consists of pies and red bull chief of police boy you mr, wiggum type 2 diabetes your life clock is tickin why does your car smell like rotten chicken your loyal and smart that’s the reality oops i slipped up i meant that is a fallacy silo with 4 limbs that’s your anology “go run the line” oh no im in agony spend all your time f-cking kids from academy i feel bad for the doctor that checks your anatomy “we’re sorry mike but you are a catastrophe” if you step up to me hit your -ss with fatality you have the audacity to speak to me vapidly and so unhappily don’t refrain from profanity you are the examinee ill come at you rapidly and put forth animality my lines are insanity ill kick in your skull to try to change your mentality lethal injection could help with neutrality ill shove the corner flag down your tight oral cavity then stomp on that sh-t to display your concavity yes michael im talking bout the shape of your skull turn your bpm to rate of f-cking null middle fingers to these f-ckers you think im playing im hating displaying all i need to i want to express my dismay with you why can’t you just tell the truth this is all we want from you i don’t understand you just like an old coger i hope you burn in h-ll just like stinging roger shout out my kinfolk yeah they be my brothers and sisters and figures count up make it bigger i hope you fall down and splash like a phelps pool dive i hope you drink too much and drown in low tide lemon and limes boy why you smell bitter ill grab you a shotty so like cobain just quit her ill meet up with your mum and i might just knight her this is hate speech written word cypher

- uncle morton

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