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lirik lagu cream of the crop – getdown services

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i’d walk it but it’s raining
i pick my fingers at the stop, it’s heaving
bus feels like it’s breathing, wheezing, stuffed crust
cabbot circus, sh*thouse
who wants a ben’s cookies? not me
i want a poo
who’s going for a pizza? stuffed crust
can’t we get it from a shipping container?
i close my eyes at night and i think about massive small businesses
i want them to go bankrupt

have they gone? mate, have they f*ck
i f*cking wish
i know i’d laugh
he’s alright
no he’s f*cking not, have you seen him?
whapping wharf
find me a worse atmosphere and i’ll paypal you a grand

it’s cr*p schematics
nine pound chips
make it f*cking quick
make it dead
place is like a sh*t hat club, yeah man
naughty sauce, dirty fries
street food, snack box, sh*t box
thick c*nt, sh*t shoes on purpose
what do you want? what do you even like?
here’s five lampshades
paper, paper, paper
n0bhead, n0bhead, n0bhead
you know what? he turns me into one
he says ‘see you later, man’
‘take care’, i say ‘f*ck off’
‘don’t tell me what to do’
these f*cking nothing blokes calling the shots
what’s my flavour? whatever your flavour isn’t, mate
do me a favour, take my life savings
p*ss yourself off to the grand prix, have a lie down
i’ve been dreaming about it
formula 1 car ripping your body to shreds
your bottom half’s gone
he’s got a guitar, he’s got a haircut

i’m f*cking bitter
course i am, you don’t have a clue
give me negative mental attitude
it’s more than cr*p, it’s bad news
genuinely, it’s f*cking cream of the crop
if the crop was absolutely terrible

eyeballing me like mike wazowski
keep up with that you’ll be doing it without me
kick the door down, got my own house key
you’re in my head, garden shed, curtain twitching novice
chuck a brick through your front window
don’t think i won’t mate i f*cking will

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