Say it Twice - Slaine

Hey yo, I’m sitting in a kitchen and I’m pitching my plans

For anybody listening, what?

You ain’t listening, man?

fuck all the jewellery on their wrist or their hand

'Cause I ain’t down for the glitz, bitch, I’m pissed at the glam

But I can capture a moment like a flick of the cam

High Planes Drifter with my dick in my hand

Walking six feet of sand, I’m talking whiskey and grams

I smile for your girl, that’s why the world is missing me, man

And imagine up in Heaven, Devil’s wishing me dead

Calling me evil, but this ain’t no publicity scam

All of the people saying that they wish that he’d scram

And stop acting like a rebel with a fist in each hand

Fuck it raw dog, giving me th itchiest pants

Go ahead and tell th label I’m no risky advance

Mr. Six-Figure when I mix liquor and I disfigure

Anybody talking shit saying «Who is this wigga?»

I mix drinks stiffer than Christopher Reeves

And get deep throat, make a bitch hiccup

Everybody put your hands up, this is a stick-up

Thick in the club, who is sicker than us?

They call me Mr. Mr. Chop Chop, jump shooter, pop pop

Dump Rugers in a fucking river, fuck a cop cop

Chitty chitty bang bang, I know how to play it right

Shitty shitty Slaine Slaine, I ain’t gotta say it twice

Mr. Mr. Chop Chop, jump shooter, pop pop

Dump Rugers in a fucking river, fuck a cop cop

Chitty chitty bang bang, I know how to play it right

Shitty shitty Slaine Slaine, I ain’t gotta say it twice

Order in the court

I don’t know why I fucking let you motherfuckers get to me, man

Order in the court

I don’t fucking like any one of you motherfuckers, man

Will the defendant please sit down

You motherfuckers are crawling my eardrums

Will the defendant please sit down

I hate every one of you, every one of you

So tell me how in the world I could be shit on now

There’s no stopping me, you could put the kid on trial

They heard me coming with the flavour, sick of bit-on styles

So get on the bus, but bitch, you’d better sit on down

I’m pitching fire at you, put your mitt on, pal

I’m lonelier than Saddam’s cell

Got a perch up in Heaven that I sit on well

Rapper, fuck a movie, hock a loogie, spit on Hell

Yeah, that’s my steez homie, this ain’t even nothing to me

I don’t even smoke crack, I’m just into puffing oolies

I ain’t gonna pull back with the DMS squad

We can spare a couple but we leave the fucking rest scarred

God bless God, I guess you never ever know

If your shit is hitting hard like you Sadaharu Oh

I could scare a scarecrow when I smoke a bag of 'dro

Coming out the underground and I’m dragging you below

It’s a catastrophe, yo, his agony is broke

Never lagging like the other ones who’s dragging feet in snow

And Germz hit me up with the banger beat I know

It’s like I’m on a corner pitching blow in six feet of snow

I got my pitching game right, so get my name right

This is a bad move, man, this is Slaine’s night

I maim mics, it’s like they think I ain’t right

Slaine 9/11 plane, man, you on the same flight

They call me Mr. Mr. Chop Chop, jump shooter, pop pop

Dump Rugers in a fucking river, fuck a cop cop

Chitty chitty bang bang, I know how to play it right

Shitty shitty Slaine Slaine, I ain’t gotta say it twice

Mr. Mr. Chop Chop, jump shooter, pop pop

Dump Rugers in a fucking river, fuck a cop cop

Chitty chitty bang bang, I know how to play it right

Shitty shitty Slaine Slaine, I ain’t gotta say it twice