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lirik lagu get your brits out – kneecap

guess who’s back on the news, it’s your favourite republican hoots, it’s your fella with the nike air shoes, two chains, two birds and we know what’s good
guess who’s back to abuse, every solvent that i choose, two blues and a pint of stout, i never knew mine if it smells like trout
foc
[?] ag teacht i mo dhiaidh ach stalford agus an dup, gach lá, taobh amuigh de mo theach, go back to dublin if you want the ra
anois éist, i’m gonna say this once, yous can all stay just don’t be c-nts, and don’t be runnin round like silly old tans, just take these yokes and we’ll go for a dance, go for a dance, go for a dance, go for a dance, go for a dance

bhí an dup har-ssin me but now we’re all on the yokes and it’s startin to be, a good night out, they forgot all about the time that i said something like ‘brits out’
arlene’s throwing shapes off a yoke nearly k!lled her, jeffrey donaldson’s lost all his filters
seo duit mate, take two sticks, he got me in a headlock and gave me a kiss
and now christy stalford’s having the craic, showing everyone his old tattoo on his back, arlene says ‘relax or you’ll get sacked’
dúirt mé ‘tóg go bog mé’ ‘things get weird when you’re whacked’
brits out for the night and we landed in thompson’s
told donaldson to double drop to see what happens
sammy wilson got knocked back at the door and now he’s up the front in bad form

start na hoíche, ár yokes na hoíche, ‘nois tá mála de fiche críochnaithe, [?] are sweet, [?], [?] sweeties, i’m eatin em like sweeties, mála mór cola bottles agus mála meanies

get your brits out, get your brits out, get your brits out, we’re on a mad one
get your brits out, get your brits out, get your brits out, we’re on a mad one
get your brits out, get your brits out, get your brits out, we’re on a mad one
get your brits out, get your brits out, get your brits out, we’re on a mad one

ar ais ag an teach and things are getting crusty
arlene ar mo chlé and she’s getting touchy, must be, just mar gheall ar na yokes cos she whispered in my ear ‘i like to be choked’
and then i [?] right into her face cos the room was spinning all over the place
i couldn’t stand, couldn’t sit but i kept her lit and then my best mate is a (distinguished) brit

we’re at the afters and it’s a disaster cos they’re talkin politics, nothing like a laughter
[?] on the sofa, arlene’s [?], paro off her head, she believes she’s sinned
donaldson has started with his h0m-phobic chats, so worried when i started on him and that’s enough of that
stalford’s l!ckin c0ke off a plate, you’ve got issues mate, you’ve got issues mate, issues mate, issues mate

- kneecap

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