music co-produced by CARPETFACE and DJAR ONE
song lyrics and vocal melodies written and performed by AJ RUSSELL
arranged by CARPETFACE Mixed and mastered by James Bragg
c & p NEWBIAS Records 2017 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

LYRICS

if you run around chatting about guns and bredren
you'll probably find your severed head in some real hard fucker's bread bin jump upon a mic i move around like a Bedouin
your head spins
swap a lot of shit like Keith Chegwin
Im dead thin
Bust you on the pitch i'll give you red shins
blast on the peace pipe just like the Redskin
you got the cash?
i'll bust a set at your wedding
i'm treading
ON the toes of MC's meddling with the wack shit
hiphop went downhill like sledging
i'm pledging
to wedge shut the beaks of them fledglings
like dust, 95% of rappers are fucking dead skin
and its cred-sin to come testing]
call your next of kin
like your mum made sure you pack your socks and vest in my record label needing that cash to invest in
get the vex off of the chest with every pressing
now sweat through your kecks and get on with the next thing
can't get out of bed without a kick
cant get off to sleep without a smoke
i tell you that's no joke
who can't say "no tobacco! and no drink!" coughing shit in the sink?
thinking "are my eyes always this fucking pink?" man they're glazed glazed over like ice rinks
so hard to keep them open
cant remember what was spoken
by the boss two minutes ago
he's asking "what did i just say"
but what did I just say?
Oh Jesus I dunno:
"If you're 23 and you retire at 65 then do this for another 42 years then do what you like -
-if you;re still alive
and with all your wits about you"
42 years of humble servitude
and where did it get you?
the property ladder, rung number 2? ooh.
remember the wonder and hunger you felt when you were younger? was it satisfied?
here's how it's classified,
I'll spell it out for you:
Death-bed regrets are many death-bed regrets are many? Well me, well I don't want any I'll take my chances
and resist advances
from the battery-hen lifestyles
prompting me to compile files
that if if you put them end to end
would last for miles and miles
Like the queues of people lacking smiles They're coming apart
like old bathroom tiles
with nervous break downs imminent
late from lunch and rushing
razor blade both wrists until they're gushing i guess they don't call it "work" for nothing
you say to me that maybe I'm acting like a baby
or maybe just plain lazy some people amaze me you're fucking crazy
Carpetface here now do you read me? time for you to turn off that TV
rip up that C.V
this drone i woke up
picked a microphone up
i'll get you in so many stitches
now you're sewn up
so word to the wise
open your eyes and look to the skies
A big heart's got nothing to do with size
I won't apologize
Ive got you reaching for your fly
and you wonder why?
because i put Spanish Fly in your Mai Tai
Complicated like pregnancies
Had a wealth of experience
in my first quarter-century
then wished away 5 out of every 7 days for too long 10 years on packing out venues like bongs
lost the chemicals
got the brain back up to speed
now the need that i feed's got a speaker and a lead
lack of ozone made the forest-fires burn all the trees
soon we're going to regret not minding Q's and P's
as breezes with sudden gale-force qualities
cool us off from the temperatures rising with the seas
the manufactured plastic filling up the recordshop with cheese not on my fucking label
NEWBIAS INDUSTRIES
...still, its a mess
yes... though i've got zest i must confess
when i get tested i can stress with the best of them we go together like burritos and Mexicans
me, you, the rest of them.
Even the Decepticons
..planning to turn the Pentagon hexagon
to make room for more Texans
and BOOM
shit i spoke too soon
they're blowing all the cheese up on the Moon
not yet but soon
now check the name of the tune
and get your frontal lobe off of me
that space in my brain 's containing private property your lies ain't got to me
your lives ain't got to be monotony
so try to stop the robots from clocking me bopping
see i fulfil no prophesy
and get fat upon no profit
my pocket rocket blocking up your pipes and sockets
I won't stop it
SO if you're on your arse THEN GET OFF IT
and try and stop the helicopters dropping that botulism
Try to keep rolling on, as old as Hiphop
I've got a bad back and I'm going grey
Mixing with the woofer down, lest i wake up the boy things ain't what they used to be, still I try to keep rolling on...