Against the Grain - Fliptrix

I never stutter, lie or mutter

This my bread and butter

Beats straight gutter

Like the lungs on a paint huffer

Fuck the coppers, I never wanna get clocked

Like fake dollars

Need a fishing hat, Shades and acres of forest

So I can get away with burying their office

Maybe I might jack a uniform, go out as Sergeant Chronic

And go around

Give the drugs back they’ve stolen from us

Roll to the Queens, knick her jewels and start playing conkers

I rap for opposite of sheeple man

I pay you homage

Fuck the time and the clock and what’s on it

My hands move faster

As I spit bars, they’re metal objects

The way your cranium gets shattered when I spray it onwards

Unlike the girls with their fake tans spraying orange

My bars resonate with nature cause I made them from it

Sound waves painting pictures out of sacred knowledge

I stay awake when I dream

You know my state is conscious

Unlike the guy laying in the alley in his vomit

I’m ballied up in my bedroom hanging like my bollocks

I shake the ground

Like the shock waves

Reverberating octaves

Top of the stage

Is where my gob’s placed

This is for the people who are growing Mary Jane

This for the people who are clinically insane

This is for the people living life how they want to

Never cared to aid the system, run against the grain

Yo I’m running down the third rail again when the train’s coming

Done this before, nuff onlookers said nothing

Lucky I’m alive now sonny, I was mad buzzing

High up in the sky, like the buzzard when it’s puffing

See I cold crush percussion

Getting stuck in like its curry mutton

No discussion son

You know it’s pucker when I bust the oven

Favourite way around London’s

Flash a bus and pay them nothing

Tripping off my face

Like I just ate eight magic mushrooms

Playing dot to dot with microscopic microdots

You might have lost your mind

A couple nights ago

If you find it bruv

I couldn’t really care less

Maybe that’s what kaya does

I put it on your screen like I transcribed and typed it up

Hands tied I still dig the diamonds right out the rough

Dripping blood like

My eyes concussed from the finest bud

Turn the sound gold

Like each line got the Midas touch

Sites I set are high And mountainous

The piff flies me up

Focused I align the times

I’ve tried in the past but fucked up

It’s a minor bruv

Smiling through it like the guilty human

In a line up

Who am I?

Not one to judge

I am you

Just in a different place

And time, trust

This is for the people who are growing Mary Jane

This for the people who are clinically insane

This is for the people living life how they want to

Never cared to aid the system, run against the grain