The Brush-Off - DJ Yoda, The Aspects

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

Introduce 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