[Verse 1: Winston Griim] More uncouth then a sooth telling street walker In the booth like a curb stomping street talker [?] get dorks like meat lockers An average ally cat, a lamp light beat stalker Treat knockers dwelling down in the dungeon That's where we keep the misfits, suburbs of London A superb attack, one for all of the minutemen Had the damn lobsterbacks and all the men trembling Simple thing planet's spun around the sun Use to write for fun, but now my words are on a run Wrote that part with a lack of morning coffee Say something back, but my train of thought lost me
So easy to rap about nothing Got a lot of puns so it's gotta mean something Floss me y'all and you'll get the Griim jaw Don't test V, he's quick on the draw Ain't no law when we all get together Whole posse click like boot spurs and leather Birds of a feather, Winston Griim the old school bandit Look so criminal with missing tooth candids Really gotta hand it, these tracks straight regal It's really quite feeble I'll explain it in the sequel Night, much love, y'all cats stay evil!