Don't Make Me

I don't want to have to, but I will Trip, crush and kill the mood Like it's sound to do, this goes out to you Don't make me do what I'm about to do I don't want to have to, but I will Trip, crush and kill the mood Like it's sound to do, this goes out to you Don't make me do what I'm about to do Don't judge a book by it's dumb words Or fuck with the half Scouse, half wool lirds Sunny Boyz cold get dumb and cull nerds And boast about robbing the post office to pull birds I don't give a fraction of an ounce of a fuck It's an accident I'm on this planet like Howard the Duck And playing me is the last option of Draughts boxin' I'll make you cry while YOUR Dads watchin' Pop a chill pill, still flip and kill the fly on the wall I liked you better when I didn't like you at all Give me a sleazy HOTEL ROOM to breathe I drop an uplifting hell tune and leave Before I start the rant that never ends Altruistic, towards me imaginary friends The Nafco 54 clique are raw I'll make you wish you had your foot in a different door I don't want to have to, but I will Trip, crush and kill the mood Like it's sound to do, this goes out to you Don't make me do what I'm about to do I don't want to have to, but I will Trip, crush and kill the mood Like it's sound to do, this goes out to you Don't make me do what I'm about to do Do I keep sonning rappers cause I'm dad-less? I raised me eyebrows as a couple of crooked bastards Looking down on mother earth eating barbecued Wookie ribs Like it's my world lad fuck your dibs I'm the man if you're missing an idol God's speed, sniffing wiz off a bible I use an unsold album as a beer mat Drown me sorrows and hold me gangster tears back Cause I want a castle with guard dogs and a moat And I'm choked with a poisoned dart frog in me throat But there's still hope, this is rap and it's big biz And I'm keeping "it" real but don't ask me what "it" is Rappers these days are a bunch of Hyacinth Bucket's But don't worry they're just going through a phase While Mr. Wrong's pissing in your bong changed Hungarian suicide song on, whistling along I don't want to have to, but I will Trip, crush and kill the mood Like it's sound to do, this goes out to you Don't make me do what I'm about to do I don't want to have to, but I will Trip, crush and kill the mood Like it's sound to do, this goes out to you Don't make me do what I'm about to do