[Unanymous]
They said I was fallin’ off. I needed that
I can read between the gaps
That monstrosity shit’s gettin’ old
THE BEAST IS BACK!
You’ll be lucky if you leave with your teeth intact
I’ll lay this thick fuck thin-crust pizza flat
It’s either that, or you get picked apart with swords
And I’ll let you pick a part from Saw to re-enact
So be at ease, you ain’t at a corporal stage
You’re still a pawn in a game
Now you’re on a war field with Agent Orange
And you’ve caught a grenade
I feel like your actions got some consequences due
Cause if you’d not acted like a whinin’ bitch online
And took the time to think about the finer print
You’d see I complimented you!
All them call-out videos and blogs on the net
Had me thinking to myself: “Was that shit
Over the top and offensive?” Well, probably yes!
But only cause I was hoping to go to war with an obvious vet
So when and made this shit about racism, you lost my RESPECT!
Cause I’m not saying that your skin is hideously infected
But when you place yourself in an environment
Where dissing it was expected
Obviously then people are gonna pick at you
And discredit the skin pigment that’s missing from your genetics!
So, on my part, there’s no apologies
You KNOW the policy
I’ll open your skull up without a lock and key or a Glock to squeeze
There ain’t no antiseptic for this lobotomy
But when I’m done hosing him down with Oxi-Clean
I’ll drop his body off at a hospital to be quarantined!
Now, you knew I’d tell you this shit
So this villain’s wounds are self-inflicted like Chopper Read
Your defensive disses are a mockery, hypocrisy!
Now, you’re in denial and cowardice
I see the bitch in your eyes
You didn’t even wanna battle me
I had to lure you in a spin at a time
Which proves to me that there was a flaw in your scientific design
‘Cause I know only vertebrates develop albinism
And you’re missing your spine!
Now I know Tyrosinase is the vital enzyme
That your body wasn’t provided with at your time of birth
And “villain” also means “tyrant”
So watch as I then combine and decipher words
You’d have been a tyrant’s bitch
Standing in the line of fire for a sniper-rifle first
And banned from being within a mile of church
Cause people like Adolf Hitler depict a tyrant’s line of work
And that’s exactly the type of person
That would have pressed you like an iron shirt
You’d have been seen as nothing more than a lurgy germ
Just some partially fertile sperm
A serpent that squirmed through a
Herpes-burnt cervix to an unearthly birth
Deserving of a learning curve for playing where the detergents were
You’re a worm with dirty vermin fur
That was urgently deterred from church
Cause your condition couldn’t be cured with a sermon’s words!
Fuck you! Prick!
I don’t give a fuck if you’ve got your team behind you
I’ll turn this into a sabotage
Your white face proves that you don’t have no camouflage
And bruv, you couldn’t handle bars if you had that moustache!
See now, you came to try and expose me for being a pussy
I came to set fire to your rap sheet
My style is sick, your style is wack
My style’s like your hat: “You won’t like me when I’m angry”!
You’re a punk, if you fought me I’d fuck you up
Fuck this guy

[Villun]
For everyone who was giving him respect
And listened at the end
That just shows, you should quit when you’re ahead
Apparently, when men find partners
It’s always a reflection of their Mums
They say it’s got something to do with tenderness and touch
And how to emulate their love
And you got a girl now, Unan
But I’m not gonna tell them she’s a slut
All that’s become evident as fuck
Is that if your girlfriend now is anything like Mum
It’s safe to say your girl’s been meddling with drugs
For those of you confused, I’ll make it simpler to grasp
At Boom Bap, Unan collapsed in the middle of a park
Woke up and told certain man your Mum’s a drug addict
And that caused a condition in your heart
So when I heard it, I was listening like “Rah!
No-one told me Brenda’s baby was fat, white
Or living on a farm!”
So let’s talk about these struggles that you harbour
You’ve got a druggie for a Mum
And a drunkard for a Father
You’re out here rapping like you’re Diz
But bruv, it’s a funny thing about karma
Cause while you’re out here trying to be like Diz
Your Mum is a disaster!
Because of her, your health’s gonna plummet and get harder
Her choice to reach for needles is why your heartbeat is feeble
I see the Jay-Z in her, see, she done him like a Carter
Now the rock’s been holding him back like Beanie Sigel
Bruv, I know deep down, you’re screwing cause it hurts
But fuck your feelings, I’m running through you, no concern
Living with a drug addict must truly be the worst
While you’re busy watching Smack in your room
Your Mum’s doing it in hers
Bruv, you’re a crack baby, that’s a fact there’s no escaping
You’re always rapping about dragons, you’re a Pagan
Building multi-stories is getting old
What you rap about is ancient
I find it kinda fitting though since crack’s in his foundation
I mean, it’s obvious to see just by looking in his eyes
Stunted growth, crooked teeth
You shouldn’t be surprised
Just be happy the morning after pill couldn’t get her high
Because I guarantee if it could
Then you wouldn’t be alive
So, I understand why you get angry like this, Tom
You’ve been alive for 20 years, her habit isn’t gone
Don’t be mad though, your Mum’s been an addict for so long
You’ve seen her face change more than the acting role for Bonds
But of all these changes, you both have similar characters
While you’re out here putting on an image for cameras
Your Mum’s in Plymouth, going through more needles
Than an AIDS victim in Africa
I can’t imagine the kinda shit you witness in a week
You go home after each event, just crippled by the scenes
Mum’s laid out on the floor, syringes by her feet
Dumb bitch is twitching in her sleep
Like she’s trying to twerk to the rhythm of a beat
On a day-to-day, you encounter the saddest sightings
The woman you love most, blacked out with damaged eyelids
Each time she takes a hit, that slag’s reclining
Eyes start rolling back like Asda pricing
And you’re telling me that doesn’t make you sick?
That every time your mother takes a hit
Her eyes look like when The Undertaker wins?
I can see The Undertaker in your mother’s nature
£20 bet, she walks around with purple gloves and shuffles blazer
She has his every trait, facial features looking dead and drained
She’s damn near the same as him, cuz
And what’s crazy as fuck is that Tommy’s Mum
Even has Kane in her blood
You’re always dissing Dirty Dan, saying you don’t make music for the masses
It’s ketamine rap, nothing for the users and the addicts
But now I see what’s been fueling your anguish
‘Cause all that really means is
Your Mum fits the music demographic!
Bruv, she goes a day without a hit, starts feelin’, gettin’ eager
Calls up her connect, offers pussy, they’re teasing her with reefer
She wants to escape her home life
She’s mixing secrecy and leisure
Your Mum’s Heisenberg’s wife
Behind the family’s back, she’s been sleeping with her dealer
Bruv, you’ve got a household full of people living loss, so I gotta pity Tom
The tracks on the arms are far from clean
They’re more like explicit songs
So, go ahead. Tell them I have Michael Jackson’s skin
But the fact is this: your Mum could die the way Michael Jackson did