[Youthoracle]
Yo, I've got not long
I've got an inbox off a guy from Plymouth
His name's Colin Armstrong
He said he gave you a fake name when you met
So you'd say that I've got this wrong
But when I say it was a while ago up on North Hill you'll know where I got this from
You went to Mousetrap and Bang Bang Club together, come on be honest Tom
You said you were confused at the time, went back to his for shots and a few hits on the bong
You confided in him, got way too fucked and then you two got it on
He wanked you off, you got angry, said he took advantage and gave him the wumba
Then you left, but he says he forgives you and misses the Donkey Kong schlong
Now that blatantly ain't true
I literally just made the whole thing up to see what your face would do
I said that you hate Asians and you didn't get that defensive over the race issue
Mate the only person making everybody think you're gay is you
And you know why I know he's a faggot?
I've come to his ends and I've used it as a holiday
And yet my interviews get awkward 'cos I don't know what to say
Your interviews get awkward when you start insisting you're not gay
But big up to the battler who came out to be himself and not keeping it locked away
'Cos before we knew we did assume that it was you frigging poon
'Cos you were trying to suck your mum's punter's cocks while you was in her womb
And I know when you found out your first two on twos
You and Chris were fumed
Wishing it could be TwoCanymous versus ChrisyBOOM
And one last reason that I know you're a gay guy, fatty
At Verdict, you couldn't take your eyes of Daylyt's batty
And you look like a younger Philip Seymour Hoffman
Had the hunger to fill his cheeks more often
And on that blog where you reveal your albino fetish it's mad
Calling out Villun with some skinny half-naked bitch behind you, that's pathetic and sad
We didn't see no breasts or a vag on that fucking sket of a slag
So tell me, how can you prove that wasn't a twelve year old lad?
But I bet if you're fucking that sket though
And you cum with that wet flow
It's about as awkward as when you try and jump on a Don't Gas set bro
Sweaty, fat and dead slow
With the beat and the fast tempo
So he starts huffing and puffing and panting, pulls out and has to let go
Pass it on to the man who can deal with that 'cos this fag isn't hetero
But forget comparisons to sex, you're making us look bad on sets though
If you try and grab the mic when we're doing a Don't Gas set again, no
You'll get fucking rushed by every man and then jacked by Pedro
Not really, we'll always let you make a complete twat of yourself
So we can all have a giggle behind your back and laugh to ourselves
And you think you're gonna go big
You must be high off the reefer
You only ever go large when you and Kevin go to Ibiza
And he's on Facebook for that info
For that personal just for shock
This brother's Grimm, try that shit with me you'll get a fucking box
For that fairytale scheme in which it's crooked plots, but it flops
'Cos I get that love from Notts, I'm like Rapunzel's locks
And if he did, I'd smack him anyway, so he wouldn't have got far
Then I went on his Facebook and from what I saw I could have got pars
Start name-dropping his mum, brother and sister, get on them personal shock bars
But instead I'll just say, every Sunday, he goes for lunch at his Nana's
See if you didn't like me, if you met me I'd be likely to change you
But I swear down, if I ever look into the eyes of a stranger
Who's been dissing me online then they might be in danger
I be knocking out trolls like Hermione Granger
There's a lot of love and hate
And these trolling cunts are bait
Unless you're criticizing in a constructive way
But most are just begging to get top comment
Well bloody done mate, you're dubbing slate because we're coming great with a lyrical display
But if you want to disrespect us when you see us, how fucking dare you come and say
We'll be like lets go for a fag and talk about it and then I'll punch you in the face
But then again, you're not the real fans who subscribe, support and come and pay
You just sit at your computer hating Don't Flop all fucking day
Now you might think I'm mad
But everything I've said about him weren't the actual feelings I've felt
Fuck the battle, we both get a lot of hate online so I give my G a bit of help
You see he's all about his writing and spitting heat until shit melts
And just like me I can tell he'd rather not sell out than be on the shelf
He's a real musician in it for the love of music not the Ps and the wealth
So I'll end this on a bless one like take care, stay real, I hope you'll be in good health
It's just a shame you're a fat gay bastard, who's living a lie and isn't real to himself
Time

[Unanymous]
Ask J Man, I used to be downright greasy, down with sleazy
I've got the grammar to make your bones decay, I'll kill you
This won't be a clean win Youth, this will be what built you
I mean your flow's pretty dutty, but you didn't show up for money if I'm speaking real truth
You're broke, your grime sets are moist, and you still ain't got a mildew
Now you're a popular guy, but you ain't making any pounds Youth
It's ironic that my initials are TV, and it's TV that helped me estimate your current value
I mean I was just wondering why with such notoriety you ain't signed
But then I watched The Matrix and I found clues
I mean I figure since you're an oracle, then surely agents should surround you
Fuck a currency cheque, I do this for love and respect
Til they think I'm worth more than that
I don't war for cash like governments that torture rat
Round here, we like that really fucking ignorant sort of rap
Like fuck Nottingham, I'll put Robin Hood in a torture rack
If you want to take shots, take shots
From the same rot, that caved Goliath's roof in
Someone tell the son of Eurydemus I brought Leonidus' troops in
If he can't hold his shield correctly it'll jeopardise his movement
I'm a malfunctioning cyber-human
Blowing up the lab like a science student that don't like his tutors
Nasir Jones, look at all the rappers that I influence
I write the sort of Ether that'll make you re-write your Blueprints
I've been here for years and I ain't moving
He's young in the game and I'm a giant to him
So when I say he's wet behind his ears, I don't mean his age
I mean he'll be leaking spinal fluids
When I hang him upside-down and drop this fruit on his head like Isaac Newton
I'll give him disfigured arms
And laugh beside the bed as the surgeons try to fix his heart
You display no vivid art, like Christian window arcs
You won't leave with your teeth intact
When I release the slap and leave them capped like the Yiddish are
This is a battle I won't lose
Before I do, I'd strangle my own youth like Chris Benoit
I'll leave this circus freak fetus stuffed back in his pickle jar
This is attempted murder, my pens are burning - you'll get ripped apart
Just like when your oriental mother tried to terminate your birth with a ninja star
I've got them overhead light bulbs, white robes
And scalpels to prise open Youth with surgical skill
Feels like the baby that got raped in A Serbian Film
How you gonna try warring with him blud?
I'm raw and broad, you're as tall as an insect
Now you're in the deep end
Swimming with sharks
Nothing but Jaws in an ink pen
Your flow's shallow, you don't even need a snorkel for his death
I'm the sorcerer/swordsman that tore off your king's head
But to me you're just meaningless, thoughtless and in-bred
Maybe I'll get your point when I take a saw to your index
I'll beast and lazy
Go ahead and jump at the beast, I'll send your ghost to meet with Swayze
Welcome to Devon, the home of smackheads and eating pastry
If you don't think that these Plymouth streets are crazy
I'll make your motherfucking mother regret the day she decided to keep her baby
When I stop his heartbeat like Stephen Gately
And bury Youth on the moors like Ian Brady