Body Bag - Jehst, Jetsun

This society is strictly savage

Fuck it — I’m living lavish

We ain’t on the same page

You don’t even speak the language

Ayo Jetsun — these beats is bangin'

This man has clearly

Studied Pythagoras theorem

Until he’s seen the pattern

I speak in riddles

Like The Mad Hatter

It’s Armageddon

When the God got the blues

Dr Manhattan

I don’t know what your man’s chattin'

Probably crap

Sleeping on the camp

You’ll get zipped up in a body bag

Somewhere deep in the woodlands

Don’t forget your manners

When you’re speaking to hoodlums

These endangered species is shooken

It’s not the ingredients

It’s the way that we cook ‘em

That’s why they book him

For performance — right?

Thought he saw the light

It’s getting shorter like an autumn night

Told the Holy Ghost to hold the line

It’s just an awkward time

Sign the paperwork

Soon as the payment terms are authorised

It’s the money faucet String!

He sounded so natural

He didn’t force a thing

Bringing out the big guns

C’est la vie!

Let it ring

Now we getting Paid in Full

Eric B & Rakim

B-Boy royalty

I’m the King of this

Undisputed heavyweight champ

The killer lyricist

Fuck an NZT pillin'

My skill is Limitless

Break the glass

Satellite images

Where my ceiling is

Man’s an original

Like an indigenous Aboriginal

Rappin' I’m at my pinnacle

Strappin' the most medicinal

Billin' the Critical Kush

De La Soul

How I Stick (in)abush

Romani

Call the homie my mush

Felonious crooks

Who wrote the G-code

In the holiest books

Look!

I don’t know what your man’s chattin'?

Probably crap

Sleeping on the camp

You’ll get zipped up in a body bag

Drinks at the bar

Rum shots making me body pop

Who do you think you are?

Gunshots ‘ll make your body drop

Comp are getting molly-whopped

Rappers changing their names

‘Cos they were lying

Like Doggy Dogg

You think you fuckin' with me?

Probably not

Billy Brimstone

I spit the molten rock

Solar hot

Like a stolen Glock

With some bodies on it

Jetsun — calculate the data

With the pocket rocket

These wally’s smaller than a Polly Pocket

There’s a new plug

Find a way to adapt

Like a foreign socket

Don’t make me Molotov it

Off topic

Unidentified Flying Object

I got off quick

You got burned

Like a joss stick

When the joint’s lit

Old school

Control the game

Holding my joystick

You’ve been cordially invited

By Royal appointment

To a lifetime of unjustified boyment

You’re duck soup

I’m the pot boiler

You’re ‘bout to see the end

Sooner than you want

Like a plot spoiler

The top dog Rottweiler

Your plot foiled

Top Boy I’ll leave you

Under six feet of top soil

Beastie Boy

It’s the Grand Royal

Hard Boiled

In the brickwork

Stone face like a gargoyle

The gargantuan

Consider me The People’s Champion

Skeleton made out of adamantium

Old dude, new wave

Like Adam Ant and them

High Plains Anthem

YNR’s the acronym

I don’t know what your man’s chattin'?

Probably crap

Sleeping on the camp

You’ll get zipped up in a… (body bag)

I don’t know what your man’s chattin'?

Probably crap

Sleeping on the camp

You’ll get zipped up in a… (body bag)

I don’t know what your man’s chattin'?

Probably crap

Sleeping on the camp

You’ll get zipped up in a—