Jam Baxter - Please lyrics

I ain't stupid (naw)
And they MCs, you know who I’m talking about
And they MCs, so heads please
Why you wanna nerdify the scene
'cause you heard some brehs kill it and
It turned your mind to green?
Turds in my latrine, clawing at the sides
Lurk in my machine, snorkelling my mind
I was talking to the flies
On a warm summer's day so you can chalk up a
Storm ’cause I walk unafraid
And I smelled hell
And them days I never felt well
Shells fell from the skies, blind
I would yell help
It never came, but the day I stop breathing's
The day I stop screaming
Today I'm not leaving
My chamber pots leaking liquid animosity
Swill a can of horrors and I
Piss it back as honesty
Distilling like the waragi
Swimming in the test tubes
Head glued to the mirror picking
At the flesh wounds
So please, why you wanna spit like a neek?
Just let your life drift in the breeze
Punch-drunk off of one fucking beer
Or just under the thumbs of
Some dumb puppeteer pulling strings
Looking at your life, and it's grim
Butchering the mind of a kid
Sat sipping slit limbs from a chalice
Like the cribs of molasses
In your fictional palace now

I ain't an idiot (naw) maybe I kinda am
Maybe I'm living my life tied to a cider can
Mind my saliva gland
Flood a fickle sandscape
A rampage of colour comes gushing
In a blank space how's the jam taste? How's
The bitter berries? How’s your fan base? Or
Have you quit already?
This shit is messy but they’re
Acting like it's glorious
Preach to the masses, bruv
Patronise your audience
With government this, conspiracy that
Isn’t it brash? Yes it is, bruv
I'm living with that
Deliver the scraps to the door
In a bag marked "potential"
I'll whip you up a feast
In my black marble temple
Stand half-assembled, ordering parts
From a stack of lost catalogs
Stored in the past gawp at the stars
And wonder if it's all a mirage if it is
Would it matter if I tore them apart?
So please, why you wanna spit like a neek?
Just let your life drift in the breeze
Punch-drunk off of one fucking beer
Or just under the thumbs of
Some dumb puppeteer pulling strings
Looking at your life, and it’s grim
Butchering the mind of a kid
Sat sipping slit limbs from a chalice
Like the cribs of molasses
In your fictional palace now