- Written by Peter Burnett Peter Burnett
I rip like Greggs knock you off of yo pegs got me sausage roll mate got me cheesy slice late BOH! I's the less stressed best dressed mutha fatha impressed finance man got depressed get late for me lunch got a mutha - humpin hunch that yo hungry fo yo charity so listen to me now Say Say Say
So what yo sayin son - sayin you gonna buy a bun? recitin recipes all weather - microphone ched - micro-micro phone Cheddar? - Buy a slice from the baker? I'm the piggie undertaker! You gotta give it to the po race instead o stuffing yo face!
You got to give in the tin to make the po man win to make the poor man cover for the shit of another I got amnesty at heart I got the nation gone apart I got the start and the end of the world we must affend got the heart taken out got the figure of the bigger earnin classes taken out got the class of the ass licking rich taken out got the bitch of the rich taken filth taken out got the cash of the motor driven power taken out given out handed out shouted out put about spread about like carpet from the waste of the state taken out made a mess of the tax on yo nose taken out got a pile of the style of the love's taken out of the system that is missin some real heart taken out of the style that I place on yo eye taken out get yo drums on the sound that I make taken out cuz I feel that yo real but yo heart's blown apart cuz you all taken out of yo wallet what you call it is yo cash taken out of your hands in the hands of the poor taken out take it out give it out take it out talk about where you sit on ya bum til the kingdom gonna come!
Chorus x 2
City stinking me thinking bout sounds maybe linking to the wild net
Of Burnett, like cement this makes the sound set
Hard sound and soft sound what I play I talk around - my hooptie tinted - I walk around blitted - get no bomb-a-zee from the MWB - my stamina your ass couldn't snap with cameras - you greedy speeders in a 40 gran car - ya couldn't push a pedal far with your legs broken with a triple bar - so local to the A to the Buddha to my vocals I go Greggs style to romance me talkin wit my man Francey - Francey -
So I walk around and stone me - my roni - a cheese and onion flavour puffing only - maybe - ma Congy Island Baby - I rock ya I block ya for Charity to knock ya - when smoothing on my walk ya can choose what I want to sock ya - with a kin to my window on the cheese and bread and pastry faking number one chew - my baker taking suckers in the dumb queue - the bun queue - I got a sticky finger to attack the pastie like my man the Hun do - I eat it like I'm hasty for the tasty - my guts are gonna race me in the pastry - Cuz one gets done eating nice sticky bun - and one got fed - stuffin down tasty shortbread - "what bread?" - the bread roll - listen to the drum roll - to take the toll from ya stroll - walk along eatin up a sausage roll or corned beef - a la carte ta make ya fart - I hear them bleed in Mozambique tho' I got steak chicken in my cheek - talken about what the third world did - eaten a meal that costs 35 quid - you give birth to thoughts both corrupt and mental - so I got a problem fundamental to ya Benz - it wants mo money but we ain't got the ends - I got a problem with ya chops puttin on ya petty diet - to talk of love is not to love why don't ya eat like a sane person - try it! - eaten like dining so take a pastry like a baby-bridie full of swiss cheese -
Like Heidi! she got goats - I just got notes - to taste ever mutha stuffing product on the board! - In ya range get strange to rearrange ya taste bud - the cud ya find is way above - a cud above is where the taste falls in ta ya ducts - those posh folks can go and get it sucked!
"What! Yo sucker boy! Don't go dissin what you missin - fore I say to you baby they could be tasting some FINE pastries theyselves up on they rich mansions boy! Ya? What a vol au vont I heard ya done said there?"
"No man they pish-posh folks can get hot with me brain pan man, Pastry-Style! I's flowing high on the pasture with the goodies comin faster - the pies in the bread bin - not the pound beef feastin!"
So I got a quid in my pooch man! I eat good ya unda-stan! Of the monde's finest bakers antonym to cash fakers - They may call me Mistah Biskitty but I'm the Cheese Eternal - eatin biscuits fo my dinner like the chicken of the Colonel - you better learn dude that I'm rude to tha food - spittin crumbs unda stood in my own Neighba-hood - If you do know where ya purse is and yo listening to ma verses - then the virtue's in the bakin that the baker man be making - Cuz that's you and me man we like piss and bed pan - you got one man dry another do nada but cry - cats with nowhere to go that's you and me bro - like my bright yellow package when I kick thro yo wreckage - I got a flava of cheeze that yo not seen in yeaz - like the slice with the ice ("What the T?") No the cheese! Like the quiche in the oven ("Yuck!") - like the sausage that is woven in a masters hand to make the finest food they ever baked cuz the G is the cooker and he's slick like a hooker - hookin custom with the smell of the pastry in a swell donut fillin kinda style while I'm lookin at the smile in the window of ma mutha-chuffin baker man in power - who keeps keen the pastry on the hour from his factray at the tower with his slices from the flour - givin power - givin power!
"How's ya buttock man?"
"Oh it's sair"
" Yous sittin on a hot macaroni pie, man!"
"Ay ya so right! It's sairer than a chicken bridie!"
"Man at least my brain's not fried from medallions of roe deer!"
"Oh Man it's a concept rest’rant!"
"That ain't no concept up ya arse likes man!"
"Nah that's just where I keep my lunch money!" : Chorus ad cheesium
* needle rips record *