Gotta Love It - Nolay

Remember this day

I’m dying to slay

I jump on the stage man I’m bloody insane

I just fuck up the place

I’ve been spraying for days

Wake up hanging and do it again

Body stay banging like 808 bass

Don’t give it the large come out my face

Wind your neck in

Before I teach you a valuable lesson

Pussy know who you’re disrespecting

Got bodies in a neat collection ah

I spaz out

Pull the gas out

Get your cash out

Take the trash out

Cause you’re garbage bitch you’re harmless

I’m a bastard slightly plastered

Mighty heartless hard regardless

Fuck the ballers love the strugglers

Pussy jugglers kitty munchers

Got some sweeties for the punters

Bunch of stunters fucking wankers

Up in Mayfair with some bankers

Used to blank us now they thank us

Bunch of wankers oops I said that

Did you bed that?

Must regret that

Nah we ain’t friends please don’t beg that

Leave a red patch on your head back

That you can’t hide with a bent cap

(Raaaaaah)

Better run for the hills

You might pass Jack And Jill

I’ve never been so ill

Shit never been this real

You’ve never seen such skill

Gotta love it

Bitch don’t front like you hate my shit

That’s a myth be real with it like

Gotta love it

Boy don’t front like you hate my shit that’s a myth be real with it like

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

I’m old school like ting a ling a ling

School bell a ring

Knife and fork fi fight di dumpling

Pussy go take a piss in the wind

So sick I’ll take a piss on the Kings

On point I’m never missing a thing

Claim you’re mans wife

But you’re missing a ring (um)

Mad ting

Sad ting

And by the looks of it your man

Love a bad ting

Lovely jubbly

Jog on darling I’m the bees knees

Come on treacle drop me out please

You’re about as relevant as my last sneeze

Getting pissed for the hell of it

Drinks are on me

Pinky on freeze

Smile and say cheese

So I can post it on Instagram

Then buss shots to your man

Cause he’s into grams

Then I roll off on my jack jones

Pat Malone Tod Sloane

You made a right pigs ear of it

ERHM ERHM

The cheek of it

It’s curtains Richard Burtons

You’re brown bread in other words dead

Smoking that dope

Rolling Bob Hope

Traces of Coke all over my coat

Yeah yeah yeah yeah

Me scared?

of who?

how?

where?

Stop telling Scott Gibbs

Telling tall tales telling those fibs

Love my geezer, fridge freezer, Julius Caesar

Lemon Squeezer

Gotta love it

Bitch don’t front like you hate my shit

That’s a myth be real with it like

Gotta love it

Boy don’t front like you hate my shit that’s a myth be real with it like

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It

Gotta Love It