| Um, I’m a scumbag
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| Yeah
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| Uhh, aha, aha, aha
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| What’s that tweet? |
| What did I tweet the other day? |
| I fucking-
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| Um, I must’ve said, yeah…
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| «I love being single and popping pills»
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| That was a tweet for my ecstasy
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| And a tweet for my ex to see
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| And a reality check for this bit
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| Looking over my shoulder while she’s standing next to me
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| Acting like she can’t see gyal are texting me
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| And now she’s got the hump with me
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| I can’t sleep, man, it’s stressing me
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| You see, the rap game kinda like the crack game
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| Kinda like a BMX race with a snapped chain
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| In the booth with a back pain
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| Smashing up bricks like a sniper with crap aim
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| Is it cheating if I use a cheetah in a rat race?
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| If I rap about cheating on her, is it bad taste?
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| Tastes bitter, tastes sour
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| Top down on the A12, 80 miles an hour
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| I can feel that, feel that
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| Summer breeze on a summer’s eve
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| Watching my back, I heard bad things come in threes
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| And I’ve got two bad bits with me
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| God knows what’s next for me
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| Summer breeze on a summer’s eve
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| Watching my back, I heard bad things come in threes
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| And I’ve got two bad things with me
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| What could tonight bring for me?
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| As I stumble on the road to her humble abode
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| I’m drunk, wondering if I should bring my phone
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| I’ve got dirt on there, that’s a no
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| Plus it’s Sunday tomorrow, we’ve got Sunderland at home, gotta go
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| I can’t stay, you see
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| I could stay to beat, or eat
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| But I ain’t staying if the flavour’s beef, god damn it
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| There ain’t no saving me, god damn it
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| I said «I'm putting you in my will, girl, only you in my will, girl
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| But all I’m leaving you is a quill
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| Some lined paper, some ink, you can do it yourself, girl
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| And shit, maybe by the time I’m gone
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| Lord forbid, I’ll have a little bit more to give
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| Cause I never gave a shit about a paycheck
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| Never gave a fuck about safe sex
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| Keep your money, all I need is that pussy and that weed and that, and that |