Brylcreem
Creatine
And a bag of Charlie Sheen
Brylcreem
Creatine
And a bag of cocaine
A dulcet man with a dolcet tone
From a dulcet town and a dolcet home
He hates me
I like that
Two arms like big baseball bats
I bark
He bites back
A jaw like a fuck off bear trap
He said “these boots are made for stomping
And that’s just what they’ll do
One of these days these boots are gonna
Stomp all over you.”
I said I got a penchant for smokes and kicking douches in the mouth
Sadly for you my last cigarette’s gone out
Concrete and leather
Concrete and leather
Concrete and leather
Concrete
Concrete and leather
Concrete and leather
Concrete and leather
Concrete
A heathen from Eton
On a bag of Michael Keaton
A heathen from Eton
On a bag of Michael Keaton
He thinks he’s suave
You’re not suave ’cause you watched Get Carter
You are a catalogue, plastic Sinatra
A tryhard, you should’ve tried harder
Me, oh me, oh my, Roy
You look like a walking thyroid
You’re not a man, you’re a gland
You’re one big neck with sausage hands
You are a Topshop tyrant
Even your haircut’s violent
You look like you’re from Love Island
You stood and the room went silent
Never fight a man with a perm
Concrete and leather
Concrete and leather
Concrete and leather
Concrete
Concrete and leather
Concrete and leather
Concrete and leather
Concrete
I shut my mouth
Let’s hug it out
I shut my mouth
Let’s hug it out
I shut my mouth
I shut my mouth