Top It Up

He's dead Yeah, he died Can't your remember? That's what you're here for He's dead I shove it up, I can do it, fit as fuck Two and a half at a time, just to make another eight squeeze And push out big muscles as fuck, yes, please No drama, click in, lift it up for the body armor I ain't yim, these pub dickheads Lyle and Scott, Adidas wheeze Tombstone knights around King Arthur's cheese His dosh, two strokes doctor come here, please Life down, wings and wheels I know the roads of fair England now Airlock, everybody is a fucking cock Text dead men, burrowed deep in the holes of nationalist dens them men Spittin' out, two lines on the table At a fucking funeral for somebody who got sick of two lines on the table Top it up, at least the DJ's alright I'm on a buzz Shove it up, at least the DJ's alright I'm on a buzz Shove it up, shove it up Shove it up, shove it up The shine of the Varnished Bar Menu cards, new menu, two meat, piri piri chicken Ales blend into sleep Into what? The rope is your destiny The silence of the grams Family don't like no fucker TASCAM, four-track, the real map, the way out Ah, fuck that Give me the key You want a fucking class tune? Then here you go then, gravy bum You can have this one on me What a nice man, there was nothing nice about the dickhead man As peel hits the floor, his kids throwing fruit about 'Til she's old enough to break the law Top it up, at least the DJ's alright I'm on a buzz Shove it up, at least the DJ's alright I'm on a buzz Shove it up, shove it up Shove it up, shove it up Take me away from it I don't wanna get near it I don't wanna get near it Take me away from it I don't wanna get near it Take me away from it Take me away from it I don't wanna get near it Take me away from it