It's the return of the E.G Or as my mum likes to call me, Elliot!
I don't really know what you expect from me I've only ever done what's ever making sense to me I thought that Two-Face would put a Harvey Dent in me But I got legs for days like a centipede If you bought a ticket to my tour- oi, that's legendary You'll never really know what all of that shit meant to me Now I got my Mrs and she is the bestest friend to me But I've been dealing with some other issues mentally (Ayy) Fifteen years in the game, broke for eight of it Then I started putting notes together like paperclips I ain't gonna gossip in the hope you relate to it Paid for it already in Theresa's dictatorship Independent artist, guess I was late to it Stuck inside the Tardis, yeah, I was major sick Called me a Doctor Who, then they tried label this So I stopped believing in my hype, atheist "Make another Kickstarts or Changed the Way You Kiss Me You need another banger", yo, I've already made fifty They just wanted me to copy all my polished history I've only got myself to blame and all the Scottish whisky I'm still making choices I ain't sure of, it's pure love Mixed with business acumen, I've learnt off my manager Smirnoff will damage ya, cocaine, embarrass ya Buy a fucking house before you get in a McLaren, yeah? I could list my cars and scars and all the bras I undid But that don't mean I'm living one hundred I guess I've always wondered, hardly a dumb kid How'd you deal with riches when it's all said and done did? From diddly-squat, piss in a pot on the rap scene To Top of the Pops, win the lot with no tag team Switch genres like drag queens and now I'm living pretty Making music for myself, not a committee So I'll make a couple tunes for my people Just a couple little bangers you can reload Plus I'm cutting down on all the Al Pacino This one's for you unsung heroes And now I've got some kids and a castle What's that whip, boy? I just drove past you I may be losing my marbles, but I'm still the same arsehole I'll be buying you a drink at the bar, so... Coronavirus got us all alone at home like Kevin McAllister (Kevin) Can't go your local and can't go to Paris (Nah) Forget marriage, bruv, right now you can't marry her Cut your double bed in half and put up a barrier Then fantasise, maybe sanitise, go shopping in Morrison's Where is the pasta? They're only stocking porridge on the shelf (What?) Fuck whatever Boris on, just think about your health It makes you wonder if this Mr Johnson ever liked us Was treating all the Covid stuff like it was tonsillitis I could talk for days about him, that's a waste of breath Big up every single person at the NHS, and the rest
And the rest Yeah, NHS Big up your chest (Ahh) I'm going back to house music after this one Or maybe not... bye!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
