Whoops (feat. Dirty Dike & Jam Baxter)

Rag'n'Bone Man

Riding about on my fucking tricycle
Sixteen ice creams in my pocket
Ain't no thing you can do to stop me borrowing a quid off your dad

I don't give a flying fuck if you're a violent cunt
I been climbing up these pylons pissed and writing love
I been CS gassed in sheds in front of Simon's mum
Life is fun, I've never felt the need to cry or buy a gun
Most of the time I'm just here for the rinse
All the beer that I've drank
Still feels weird when I think
Will kill fear with a blink
Still chill here with a grin like
Open mouth full of duck skin
Rolling round in my love pit
With my fuck pig
Deep breath on my trumpet
Got Keith Wet on my drum kit
Dumb shit
It doesn't make sense
What does, bitch?
I sold drugs in clubs, got busted
And now I know a place never gonna trust him
But you love him
Same time, you say fuck him, he's disgusting
Last man ever put your trust in
There ain't a feminist that ain't discussed him
Like, whoopsie, daisy who
I don't really wanna get blazed with you
I been blazing away since the 90s
And I got a bit of passive in the 80s too
I got one fake job and the paper chute
I make tunes on the MP baby proof
I got a wonky eye and a lazy tooth
I went YOI but I made it through

Feeling like a welfare-fat child glued to a nuclear warhead, soaring
Warm endorphins spewed from a hole in the forehead soaking the world I walk in
Yep, sellin em a dream
Never gonna burn out, never gonna bleed
We all just hit a new level of malevolence
Neck a little medicine, wrestle the machine
I was in a whirlpool reproducing
Find your girl by the speaker, puking
In the back room, lashed where the beats are moving
It's 11am with my Fenibut
Up late, sunrise crew
If you relate, we're scum like you
I view the events of the day as a series of sumptuous slugs I chew
So, good luck with your empire 'cause
I live my life like a exile does
Sleeping around, got my ex riled up
I just sat there watching the debt pile up
You couldn't be less like us
I couldn't be more like me
Can't enter my future, you weren't on the list
These newborn pawns ain't brought ID
I'ma get waste spend all my p
Your blurred out faces are all I see
Sure my G, you keep talking
Just how boring can your life be?
That's me, the elegant stranger
Wrapped in an illusion of megalomania
I turned up drunk and resented your friends with the trembling fresh severed head of a traitor

Fuck your friends, I ain't getting the drinks in
I won't settle the bill and I won't fill up a clear
Oh you ain't having your fill at eight, din-dins
I don't lip sync, I don't mime
I will fill up a dance cos I put in the graft
No you ain't having half, it's all mine
Who's watching?
When I pull up a chair, put two in the air, it's all slime
I go to bed with a tool
Cos I ain't been the same since I took garies at school
So who's betting on the fat kid, with the devil in his eyes and a matchstick
Every ting bless to the quiet kids, cos you can't call dribbling a tactic
So go get your lads, prick
I been saving this rage for a rainy day
Clouds gone greyer than an ash tip
So let's bury these twats quick
All this waffling, gassing and hollering won't do shit like a cocked spliff
On the cold shit, you see that breh with his teeth out, just poke it
Everyone's up to their old tricks, like no shit
Praying that I don't see the same old cunts when I'm walking around in my old bits
I take my tea, that golden brown
Hold it up, I don't hold it down
I been patiently waiting on your demise so when the goon squad rise I'll take the crown
Ain't a crown, you kissed the rein
Shut the cake hole, oh, hail the king
You've been around these cunts so long, set fire to the trees and the woods you're in
Woods you're in, woods you're in
You've been around these cunts so long, set fire to the trees and the woods you're in

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Written by: Dirty Dike / Jam Baxter / Rory Graham. Isn't this right? Let us know.