Alchemisland

I put up pictures, me with dukes up saying put up or shut up

Jeweller never busier than after I’ve brandished my shooter

Hooters girls afford solid state computers after two minutes in my booth

Wearing a brand-new Copeland suit, flattening it out

Fat line of coke up the snout

Empty shelves and presses gonna put stuff

Empty hell, all demons in Dublin gonna strut stuff

In a pink ruff hair like a tough guy punk drummer

I’m past all the drama, I’m a changed man, your honour

I went from face bandana to farming llamas in Montana

I’m haunted by a Lamia who claims to be grandma

I close my eyes and shit’s looking Nuke’s Top 5s

Skinwalker how I walk back from the bathroom starkers

Hard as Tony Stark’s armour when I stick it in your arse

Your bars are starters, mere sparklers, mine are C4 war starters

Always hit the target, get got by an artist, drop sixty k deposit

On front row seats at boxing

On the night decide to stay home and watch a box set

Egyptian Gods at war how I box Set

God of War for an hour before we have sex

She’s upset because I’m not eating well, shouldn’t sweat just yelling

Truths she’s telling ear-repellent, looking unwell but feeling swell

That’s half what matters anyway, put the next disc in the PS3 tray

Terrible graphics look even worse 4K, bag over face but for a game

Still came, saw, conquered, no one at small break ever beat me at conkers

Never had a bad fur day, first out at Watergate the Cubans came later

I was on Nixon’s payroll since day one, hanging dong like Thundergun

Plundered cunt.