Sick 2 Def Songtext
von Plan B
Sick 2 Def Songtext
Check, check, check, yo
Real sick of hearing these pricks talk shit
They get their throat slit
′Cause they're talking to me like I′m thick
And I'm real tired of all these bullshit guys
They best go hide 'cause I′m looking for them on the sly
′Cause I've had it up to here, right up to here
Might have to do it Reservoir Dogs style, slice off their ear
′Cause I've had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it′s obvious they ain't rough enough
Listen, I don′t just talk the talk, I walk it
That's why my mouth's always coming out with raw shit
My rap style′s distorted
Like little Mo getting raped and keeping
The baby instead of getting it aborted
Yo, I talk morbid just to make you feel awkward
Death′s a part of life, yo, you just can't ignore it
Especially when I rip out your heart and on my sleeve sport it
Like it′s something you think's precious ′
Cause your dead gran bought it
I talk so foul, I talk so coarse
I show no regret, I show no remorse
Like a necrophiliac raping a corpse
Up the anal passage while contracting genital warts
My metaphors are twisted
Like that game where you gotta put the Hobnob in your gob
If you're the last one to come on the biscuit
I′m so sadistic
That's why I fantasise about finding my mum's ex
Floating in a bathtub with his wrist slit
And I′m real sick of hearing these pricks talk shit
They get their throat slit
′Cause they're talking to me like I′m thick
And I'm real tired of all these bullshit guys
They best go hide ′cause I'm looking for them on the sly
Had it up to here, right up to here
Might have to do it Reservoir Dogs style, slice off their ear
′Cause I've had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it's obvious they ain′t rough enough
You best ban TV if you want me to stop
′Cause I'm so heavily influenced by the things that I watch
It ain′t just Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs
It's Irreversible, Bezma, City of God
It′s the news on every channel when I turn on the box
It's CMP the Farce singing on Top of the Pops
Gary Glitter, Michael Jackson, what?
On the net, Ken Bigley got his neck taken off
That′s some nasty shit and still you wonder why I'm sick
When I see this shit and I say exactly what I think
That's some nasty shit and still you don′t ban it
But you ban computer games, something ′round here really stinks
What about cigarettes and alcoholic drinks?
Or the animal that died just so your wife could wear that mink?
You're disgraceful like getting caught pissing in the sink
Or a white girl won′t suck my dick just because it's pink
And I′m real sick of hearing these pricks talk shit
They get their throat slit
'Cause they′re talking to me like I'm thick
And I'm real tired of all these bullshit guys
They best go hide ′cause I′m looking for them on the sly
Had it up to here, right up to here
Might have to do it Reservoir Dogs style, slice off their ear
'Cause I′ve had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it's obvious they ain′t rough enough
Check it, the last verse is just as bad as the first
But compared to the second, yo, it's definitely worse
′Cause it's about a guy getting chauffeured in a hearse
Let me do what Nas did and tell you this shit in reverse
The hearse brings the corpse back to the morgue
The guy from the morgue undresses the corpse
Embalming fluid goes back out, the blood goes back in
Body goes back to hospital where it comes alive again
The paramedics walk backwards like an Irish dance
Put the wounded man back in the ambulance
The ambulance's engine turns back on
And its lights flash as the siren plays his favourite song
The guy goes back to the exact spot where they found him
And the medics and all the passers-by go back where they came from
′Til eventually no one surrounds him
And the blood pours up him rather than down him
The man then falls upwards back on his feet
Stumbles towards a dark figure on the other side of the street
He walks into the blade that cut his belly
Then he holds his neck which was bleeding already
He removes his hand so that you can see the cut
And as the knife undoes the slice, it closes back up
He unsays the words he said which are "What the fuck?"
And unscreams the scream from the first initial cut
Then the blood from his severely severed ear
Crawls back up his cheek and slowly disappears
As the knifewielding silhouette unhatchets from the rear
Puts the knife away after reattaching the ear
Then walks backwards through the bushes where he′s disregarding nature
Leaves the guy on the bench, um, reading his paper
Takes the snail he stepped on back from its creator
Only to be killed again when I fast-forward this shit later
Back in his house, now back in his bed
He unlistens to his CD and unbox his head
Takes the CD out the player, puts it back in its case
Which has my name on the cover along with my face
Fast-forward, there's been a murder and the police know who done it
Now they′re looking for a motive 'cause they don′t know why he done it
Sure enough, it don't take that long for them to find a reason
And they publicly state it on TV that evening
A couple months later, this shit gets bad
Like it was me who put that switch in
His hand and told him to kill that man
Like this whole song was just some kind of sickly devised plan
To hurt some poor cunt I don′t even know
And have never met before in my life
If it was, then whoever said the pen is mightier than sword was right
And you better think twice before you step to me and think I bite
Real sick of hearing these pricks talk shit
They get their throat slit
′Cause they're talking to me like I′m thick
And I'm real tired of all these bullshit guys
They best go hide 'cause I′m looking for them on the sly
′Cause I've had it up to here, right up to here
Might have to do it Reservoir Dogs style, slice off their ear
′Cause I've had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it′s obvious they ain't rough enough
Listen, I don′t just talk the talk, I walk it
That's why my mouth's always coming out with raw shit
My rap style′s distorted
Like little Mo getting raped and keeping
The baby instead of getting it aborted
Yo, I talk morbid just to make you feel awkward
Death′s a part of life, yo, you just can't ignore it
Especially when I rip out your heart and on my sleeve sport it
Like it′s something you think's precious ′
Cause your dead gran bought it
I talk so foul, I talk so coarse
I show no regret, I show no remorse
Like a necrophiliac raping a corpse
Up the anal passage while contracting genital warts
My metaphors are twisted
Like that game where you gotta put the Hobnob in your gob
If you're the last one to come on the biscuit
I′m so sadistic
That's why I fantasise about finding my mum's ex
Floating in a bathtub with his wrist slit
And I′m real sick of hearing these pricks talk shit
They get their throat slit
′Cause they're talking to me like I′m thick
And I'm real tired of all these bullshit guys
They best go hide ′cause I'm looking for them on the sly
Had it up to here, right up to here
Might have to do it Reservoir Dogs style, slice off their ear
′Cause I've had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it's obvious they ain′t rough enough
You best ban TV if you want me to stop
′Cause I'm so heavily influenced by the things that I watch
It ain′t just Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs
It's Irreversible, Bezma, City of God
It′s the news on every channel when I turn on the box
It's CMP the Farce singing on Top of the Pops
Gary Glitter, Michael Jackson, what?
On the net, Ken Bigley got his neck taken off
That′s some nasty shit and still you wonder why I'm sick
When I see this shit and I say exactly what I think
That's some nasty shit and still you don′t ban it
But you ban computer games, something ′round here really stinks
What about cigarettes and alcoholic drinks?
Or the animal that died just so your wife could wear that mink?
You're disgraceful like getting caught pissing in the sink
Or a white girl won′t suck my dick just because it's pink
And I′m real sick of hearing these pricks talk shit
They get their throat slit
'Cause they′re talking to me like I'm thick
And I'm real tired of all these bullshit guys
They best go hide ′cause I′m looking for them on the sly
Had it up to here, right up to here
Might have to do it Reservoir Dogs style, slice off their ear
'Cause I′ve had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it's obvious they ain′t rough enough
Check it, the last verse is just as bad as the first
But compared to the second, yo, it's definitely worse
′Cause it's about a guy getting chauffeured in a hearse
Let me do what Nas did and tell you this shit in reverse
The hearse brings the corpse back to the morgue
The guy from the morgue undresses the corpse
Embalming fluid goes back out, the blood goes back in
Body goes back to hospital where it comes alive again
The paramedics walk backwards like an Irish dance
Put the wounded man back in the ambulance
The ambulance's engine turns back on
And its lights flash as the siren plays his favourite song
The guy goes back to the exact spot where they found him
And the medics and all the passers-by go back where they came from
′Til eventually no one surrounds him
And the blood pours up him rather than down him
The man then falls upwards back on his feet
Stumbles towards a dark figure on the other side of the street
He walks into the blade that cut his belly
Then he holds his neck which was bleeding already
He removes his hand so that you can see the cut
And as the knife undoes the slice, it closes back up
He unsays the words he said which are "What the fuck?"
And unscreams the scream from the first initial cut
Then the blood from his severely severed ear
Crawls back up his cheek and slowly disappears
As the knifewielding silhouette unhatchets from the rear
Puts the knife away after reattaching the ear
Then walks backwards through the bushes where he′s disregarding nature
Leaves the guy on the bench, um, reading his paper
Takes the snail he stepped on back from its creator
Only to be killed again when I fast-forward this shit later
Back in his house, now back in his bed
He unlistens to his CD and unbox his head
Takes the CD out the player, puts it back in its case
Which has my name on the cover along with my face
Fast-forward, there's been a murder and the police know who done it
Now they′re looking for a motive 'cause they don′t know why he done it
Sure enough, it don't take that long for them to find a reason
And they publicly state it on TV that evening
A couple months later, this shit gets bad
Like it was me who put that switch in
His hand and told him to kill that man
Like this whole song was just some kind of sickly devised plan
To hurt some poor cunt I don′t even know
And have never met before in my life
If it was, then whoever said the pen is mightier than sword was right
And you better think twice before you step to me and think I bite
Writer(s): Benjamin Paul Ballance-drew Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
