The Brush-Off
Quelle: Spotify
Get your dental floss ready,
Get your toothbrush loaded,
And ready for action!
Now peace to the streets,
Peace to (Jan Dawes?)
I spit relief from beef police transporters.
Like England supporters at an away game,
Certain Spanish fans get duffed up in the mel'e.
Way-hey! You need straightening out,
A racist in braces,
But you're tasteless.
On this basis,
Shut that hole where your cake is,
Got raps on tap like where your toothpaste is.
You need a breath mint,
Your mum needs two,
She melted every breathalizer she breathes through.
People cross the road when they see you,
You're no stunt man,
Your breath's fuckin' evil.
I feel faint,
(Why?)
Your breath peels paint,
That's why I asked you around to redecorate.
duce your tooth to the brush and,
Stop steaming up the windows on the bus.
It's the brush-off,
It's the cut-off,
A point for everything we've had enough of.
It's the brush-off,
You need to shove off.
This for everyone we've had enough of.
You're a Colgate smile away from 8 mile,
Wait while you brush before you freestyle.
I know a tooth fairy who's very poor,
You supplied more ivory than she could afford.
Even your teeth wonder where the fuck your gums are,
It's like having a conversation with Mumra.
Call a dentist,
Call a priest,
Your breath it,
Tests belief.
It ain't hard to smell,
I excel,
Gargle well,
You get a wide berth like smurfs from Gargamel,
It's getting nasty,
(Party?) (Parsley?)
You wanna kick sixteen don't ask me.
It's like E.T.,
When you're eating,
Phoned your home and...
(It's been quarantined.)
In all honesty,
Breath-wise mate,
You're well past your warranty.
Beef with the elite,
(Delish?) of Hampstead Heath,
(Shush there) North and South,
There's a taste of Bristol streets,
Where you can choose to chew fat,
Or spit it with the best of us,
And moderately on all conservative estimates.
You anoraks,
Here's a byte for your Apple Macs,
Forget bluetooth, yellow and plaque attacks,
Snackin' on Caramacs I'm happy in a habitat.
One love to Yoda and I'm ghost like Yasser Arafat.
You're left bereft of breath control,
Travellers evicted you from Glastonbury Festival.
It's cause your tongue is hairier than your testicles,
Forget a toothbrush,
Call pest control!
Your breath's so sick,
It sick stinks,
Even when you lip-sync it stinks.
When you begin to speak I squint and blink,
You shower the listener like a squid spits ink.
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