Driving through the 6AM mist again

I know it's a matter of not if but when

It can't be drank away with Tanqueray

The dog that didn't have his day it's sad to say

Bring him in from the cold

But I refuse to pose 'til I'm dripping in gold

With skrilla to hold

'Cause I don't fit in a mould

Me lack of an expression reads "bitter and old"

Written in bold

Rap style sounding like a gypsy curse

So ill it hurts, might be broke now but

Keep kicking it 'til it works

That scruffy cat strutting past on its ninth best life like it's its first

I've been about for a while though

It's hot in the kitchen but I'm out on the tiles though

Everybody raps but where did the style go?

I'm off me trolley but I got you rollin' in the aisles though

Drinking tea, sprinkling the tree in the RAW sheet

The cost of living's for sure steep

Talk's cheap

Get the money like Wall Street, the wolves eat your sheep

To fill these shoes is no small feat

'Cause I walk the walk while you're all talk

From this height

All your tall stories will fall short

Shoot my shot in this ball court

The King of Duck[???]

If you didn't give a fuck you wouldn't bring it up

Radio Rahim loud my shit bump

The volume on ten pistol grip pump

Can't turn down, even though I'm close to burn out

Holla Jane Fonda for the workout

I've been around for a while though so wha blow?

Couldn't pick you out of a crowd like Where's Waldo

Everybody raps but I play abstracts

Relax, puffing something through my cataracts