Butter Fly

[Verse] I’m Slick like a Johnny Barnes scissor kick Round ours Robbie’s God and Grobbelaar’s Innocent Shankly’s sons, early 90’s Cassy scum Taxing Capri Sun’s and stashing them at me Mums A lack of funds, gather crumbs and sink bevies The kids on the express way bridges that flick pennies Why even try like? You’ll get your fucking eye wiped It’s not a fickle minds life, thinking Picking at me chicken fried rice Indifferent, bizzies listen in and think we’re bickering The kip of them though I’m sick of them Like a clique of blind mice that wouldn’t notice if I told them And they lived and died twice Ignant? Quite right, the world in which we live in Is a massive ball of izm and I’m a master of all that isn’t Caught you slipping, called your women over Tripping sober, until I’m rich as shit tipping Hova Class, like Minnesota Fatts By the look of their silhouettes I think their holding bats Not a splab lad take a wholesome drag Rolling stoned 'til I’m broken bad Even Obi Wan Kenobi’s blagged Blah lid, fucking you up for something your Ma did Just to rhyme it, undermining major up and coming signings Spitting like the first proletarian that ever rhymed a word Mostly shit about Mary and the times we shared, on this dying earth