Blah Blah

Make way for the S-O-V I see your first priorities are discussing me in Maccy D's At about half three While you're muchin' on your quarter-pounder with cheese? Chatting about me and my abilities Like S-O-V you're shit S-O-V can't spit S-O-V just quit Ahh, Whatever don't talk with your mouth full bitch While you're discussing me it's all publicity Even if you're cussin' me you're still dashing my name around the city It's all good though (brapp brapp) publicity for free White midget, uh huh, mic fidget Somebody just dialed my digit S-O-V you're no one, haha is it Flattered by the way that you use your credit You fed it and you said it that I'm nobody If I'm nobody then why are you ringing me? You drained your credit that's killing it Well my style you sure you ain't feeling it? [Hook] Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah In one ear and it comes straight out the other Repeating yourself like you got a stutter With all your mutter like reh reh reh rah Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah All your words in my brain are turning into clutter Repeating yourself like you got a stutter With all your mutter like reh reh reh rah People want to classify me as an Eminem But hear what I'm a different kind of specimen Just because I be a white Caucasian Doesn't mean me and him are the same Because one I'm not American, two I'm not a man Three I'm coming through with a different kind of plan Setting the facts straight cause I know that I can Purely heavyweight cause I do the whole shebang Categories I don't fit into any Why I'm on so many styles I'm on many Writing up more lines than Burberry And dealing with beats like a victim of a bully Make them drink my saliva off the floor That spit that I spat when I walked in the door released my metaphor Like cor blimey it's that white girl S-O-V [Hook] I know you don't boast about me over your Sunday roast Or your mid-morning cheese on toast But when I found out you've been talking It's all different you start squawking S-O-V, I never said that S-O-V, you know you ain't whack S-O-V, I love your track What the fuck do you want bitch, a pat on the back? A blahbarian equals a soon to be beg-friend Cause a beg-friend is an ex-blahbarian And they only start caring When you're preparing the next riddim that every deck is blaring Oh fuck, I got posh people swearing The rich, the poor, the snobs, the whores Oh, dear Blahbarians galore [Hook]