I'm impeccable wi' my words
Don't beat around the bush or deserve 'em to go unheard
That be absurd just like the Moors Murders
Fuck Brady and that other K@#* yer done hearda
Yet they fall on deaf ears of those wi' blurred vision
Not concerned about the words in return that they're spittin'
They couldn't see me even with an optician givin' 6-by-mother-fuckin'-6 on their prescription
Now yer can take a mother fucker outta Bradford
But you'll never take Bradford out a mother fucker
Fuck yer mother, fuck 'er like yer dad should
A feeble attempt to reinvigurate his manhood
There ain't no prophet here to see
Just a four-eyed K@#* livin' a self-fulfilled prophesy
and imma promise he
Gonna get his pound o'flesh like a zombie
C-T-I-D til I D-I-E across the Irish Sea until the E-N-D, see
Imma stay down wi' ten toes
Put that on everything I own from here to't White Rose 

They allus said I were backwards
I talk in riddles an' use too many slang an' bad words
A thick bastard from Bradford but that good that I've manufactured a track that could
fit with a rhyme so sick that's to ever come up outta that city since them Brontë sisters
Fancy that - a fucking lad like this'ne sendin' shivers down the spine of anyone who wanna listen 

From a white heterosexual male - fuck a pronoun
Try push that shit on me and we gon' throw down
I be fuckin' you up on sight - call it a 'hoe down'
Runnin' off at the mouth - Imma put my toe down
and stay stuck to my word, no need for adhesive
We'll never see if different groups can be cohesive
and work together, developing relations
'Cause yer all so offended by cultural appropriation
I disassociate, I can't cope or relate with you busters 'cause you're mind ain't open
A xenophobe in plain clothes - we all know one an' wouldn't trust one as far as we could throw one
All snappy like a Jack Russell
Bark like a big dog - get strapped in a muzzle
Never been anywhere close to any sense o'struggle
I'm well aware that you'd burst like soap bubbles
I stay (sic) like Slipknot
I'm Alan Jackson - rollin' like a freight train
I'll roll around the mother fuckers on a Segway
Rather roll it off a cliff than do it their way 

They allus said I were backwards
I talk in riddles an' use too many slang an' bad words
A thick bastard from Bradford but that good that I've manufactured a track that could
fit with a rhyme so sick that's to ever come up outta that city since them Brontë sisters
Fancy that - a fucking lad like this'ne sendin' shivers down the spine of anyone who wanna listen

All music written, produced, programmed, engineered, recorded, and mixed by Green Man.

Infamous Baller

Talkin' shit - you'll get hit
Wanna stamp you out
Your loose lips be sinkin' ships
The alarm is soundin' out
Yer such a bitch - you sit down to piss
Take yer tampon out
Keep talkin' shit - you'll get hit
'Bout to blacken out

Don't know what you heard about me, still I couldn't give a fuck
Rumours circulatin' 'round this island like some winter bug
Double dippers cough an' sneezin', wheezin', allus feelin' rough
I think that I've seen enough and Green Man got that healin' touch

Bitch, I came straight outta Bradford
What ya really know about my hood?
Yer could barely point it out on a map, bud
and I hear yer drag the name through the black mud
Talkin' like you've never gone an' spat blood
Run ya mouth like it's on a track, bud
Imma fuckin' crack ya like a back, bud
and chop yer til yer splinter into matchwood, bud

Had my fuckin' back up against the brick wall, bud
I've banged my fuckin' head up against the same wall
Splattered fuckin' brains all up on the brick wall, bud
Time an' time again, I've heard it all before
Had my fuckin' back up against the brick wall, bud
I've banged my fuckin' head up against the same wall
Splattered fuckin' brains all up on the brick wall, bud
Time an' time again, I've heard it all before

Talkin' shit - you'll get hit
Your loose lips be sinkin' ships
Yer such a bitch - you sit down to piss
Keep talkin' shit - you'll get hit

Bitch, I came straight outta Bradford
What ya really know about my hood?
Yer could barely point it out on a map, bud
and I hear yer drag the name through the black mud
Talkin' like you've never gone an' spat blood
Run ya mouth like it's on a track, bud
Imma fuckin' crack ya like a back, bud
and chop yer til yer splinter into matchwood

Had my fuckin' back up against the brick wall, bud
I've banged my fuckin' head up against the same wall
Splattered fuckin' brains all up on the brick wall, bud
Time an' time again, I've heard it all before
Had my fuckin' back up against the brick wall, bud
I've banged my fuckin' head up against the same wall
Splattered fuckin' brains all up on the brick wall, bud
Time an' time again, I've heard it all before


All music written, produced, programmed, engineered, recorded, and mixed by Green Man.

Heard It All Before

Bred against the grain in a country full o' hate
I'm from the Bradford district an' I wasn't born yesterday
Imma know my place, stay in my fuckin' lane
Green Man runnin' rings around these mother fuckin' weak charvas, man
Got the system pegged while it's consumin' me with fear
I went off the deep end with them voices in my ear
Seen it crystal clear through these lenses that are smeared
Close my eyes an' hope I make it all just disappear

I'n't enough time to relieve all the pain
I want my city back, take me back to them days
I know they feel the same way
I'n't enough time to relieve all the pain
I'n't enough time to relieve all the pain
I want that city back, take me back to them days
I know they feel the same way
I'n't enough time to relieve all the pain

Make it no mistake, bro, shut yer damn cake hole
Talkin' so much shit - yer mouth lookin' like an a-hole
What you weak bitches know about me anyway though?
I've heard it all before like it's the mother fuckin' same old
I cannot be fuckin' arsed explainin' all of my fuckin' past
I know what I see within that lookin' glass
and I made bricks outta straws that I were clutchin' at
and yer were thinkin' I were gonna quit? Please don't make me laugh

I'n't enough time to relieve all the pain
I want my city back, take me back to them days
I know they feel the same way
I'n't enough time to relieve all the pain
I'n't enough time to relieve all the pain
I want that city back, take me back to them days
I know they feel the same way

What's the novelty of a city that be poverty-stricken?
The most deprived local authority in Britain
It might be multicultured but without it - it i'n't shit
We in the arms of perdition, wi' zero recognition
My line of vision welcomes in their judgement, day of reckonin'
We've all the power we need to bring our dreams, no questionin'
Be the creators of a new nation
A population that controls it's own destiny

I'n't enough time to relieve all the pain
I want my city back, take me back to them days
I know they feel the same way
I'n't enough time to relieve all the pain
I'n't enough time to relieve all the pain
I want that city back, take me back to them days
I know they feel the same way
I'n't enough time to relieve all the pain

I'n't enough time to relieve all the pain
I'n't enough time to relieve all the pain

All music written, produced, programmed, engineered, recorded, and mixed by Green Man.

Relieve the Pain

All music written, produced, programmed, engineered, recorded, and mixed by Green Man.

Green Man

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