Welcome, S.O.S. man, Yo, Names Werd's - call me the rap man, With nae fans, band or a grand plan, I emptied out my pockets like a handstand, Invested in the art but you got it free on Bandcamp. You rap about cans n daein' grams, fam Would you like it if I told yer mam that, Would you get grounded fae auld man, No mic for you till you write about yer own tracks? Rap, I own that, Owe that nothing but I come back, Don't need a 'come back', F**k it' I did it fae my own back, Since the bus pass, To passing the buck to the young cats. Man, man I'm a c*nt man, Don't give a damn - Ran a couple damn laps round punk bands, Singers and you pop Stans, Making a mockery, a hip-hop monopoly of shan jams. Ah wait, that's me, Worst in the scene, with a curse that has been, Placed above me and it rain's on my dreams. I miss those in my being, Those being the ones that gave my life meaning, Sunk down enough to contact the demons, Fell so far - I came out in New Zealand Aye Aye, I am a, I am virus, Pen-demic, picking a part all my ideas. I break em all up n put em in my spit, I'm a carrier infected with mu-sick (Cough cough) Pardon, pardon? Build any walls we will tag them, I don't really care about you're accent, But when did Scottish guys start talking like 'mandem' I am now the old head I hated. I am now so outdated. I am now so frustrated, but still first-rated, Well, At least I think I'm amazing. But only at this, Everything else in life I'm pure shit. Would kill myself but I'm a scared wee bitch, Can even do that - so I'll keep doing this. Shit. It is what it is.

Check, I cannot rest my iris hyper-perplexed, I'm eyeing ideas to find my ISIS but I digress. These introverts this mad mission they often vent, I was rapping back when Tizer vans were in yer ends. It's like my abdomen was mixed with adamantium, I'll slash and attack a massive cunt, I'm giving it gas but I love to burn. I keep a voodoo of myself and I hope I learn, Have to feel pain to release these creative turns. The real me, persona, kind of hidden though, I tend to say a lot more when voices in my head let go, (I am better, I am better, hear the eco-chamber) A whole scene of believers, Justin Beavers, Inbetweeners, All feeling we're genius, deny that it's meaningless, But deep down - what are we achieving ken? I'm unique, like everybody else, Turtle in my shell in my home I dwell, Becomes a cauldron with anxiety spells, We create our own poison and curse ourselves, Hell, I've taken Quasimodo's bell, And broke my own back, Now destined to fill the gap, with my ales, (Do it, do it) My characters they carousel, and counter-react as my consciousness picks who to feel. (Woo x 3) [Phone rings] Hello, who is that? I'll take a phone survey just to have a chat, A real conversation, better with some strings attached, To can's buried deep under-ground next to Scottish rap. Here at night, I'm hearing hostel soundtracks, My window hears the pain of a cityscape in contrast, The smashing of a drink glass, The siren of a pig car, The crying of a couple breaking up under the night stars. I've lost my spirit, That's good - I'd only drink it. I eat chips off my shoulder, Down my brass neck for dinner. We're action figures that's timid, Couple of movements with it, But restricted never felt realistic in it, Plastic smiles these days look a gimmick, With painted on emotions in everyone I witness. (F**k)

Na, Na, Na, na, Na-na. S.O.S. ya, Auld Reek, and all that speak Spawny Spawny Spawn Spawn Spawn... Aye, Aye... I, I feel ostracized, Sand in your ostrich eyes, a face with a custard pie, cause you thought to try, So burry heads underground with no plot to fly, I, still share my ideas, I won't advise the vices these vibes share. Collab or a solo, still feeling so low, So hollow in my dojo. Useless as a dodo, Werd, on yer nerves, Like the acupuncture model. And I act the cunt though, Drink like I'm immortal. I don't know why I infer, I always move the goal posts. I smoke bud. Maybe one day I will get a dug. Is that not enough to ask for? (Hey) Nah. Aye. Ah Spawn Zero. [Spawn Zero] So excited, I’m besides myself, Smoking DMT I’m beside myself, I’m trying to calm it down but I might as well, It’s fine for tonight bitch I dine in Hell, Will this all pay off? Only Time will tell, At this point; I’ve declined the wealth, (Still broke) Got signed then resigned, Because how shite it smelled, I’d be lying if I said this doesn’t write itself (ha), Heard your music, I took a knee, That shit isn’t good with me, You mother-fuckers can’t catch up, Bitch I’m moving at super speed, Thought you’d never be superseded, But look at me. Then there’s you, Pumping hookers built like Booker T, Now everyone is asking for my booking fee, I’m always cooking - I ain’t losing heat, Continue with your losing streak, I’ll make your dreams come true, If you really want to lose some teeth.

Can we reset this reality? I don't believe in the big bang (I don't believe in the big bang) Check... Fly in a spacecraft, I craft fae words, No witchcraft, it's which craft I choose to surf, Audio waves is my way to purge, All those Earthly thoughts that hold back us. Huh, Elton Musk eat your heart out, Never spent a billion but a million thoughts I Drew, Open up doors, in my mind too, Seeing lives and a Goddess that I once knew. Moving. on. up. Past the stars, quasars, n such, See metal birds fart fire to thrust, From a glass elevator still moving on up. Then it comes to a halt, First new planet I see has all ya'll Earth point 2, but few points to point out, Everyone at peace, no priests or bad news. (Nah) Hmm, guess technology flew, No investing in wars, so they cured us all, no poor at all nor no lack of food. Damn, kind of what we should do (yeah) In my head is a journey Need no map or survey Just need thoughts to budge me Elevate evolve I'll be back by Thursday. In my head is a journey (huh) Need no map or survey, Elevate my mind and burn me, Organic vessel is only what huds me... 'Sons of Scotland' [Texture] The caduceus is a Möbius strip, verbs trip Off the tip of my lips, anatomically Accelerator mass spectrometry Air guitar, Anatolian shephardry Bird flu raps, electronica, as I riff vividly Infotainment, killing fields, Post-traumatic misery, Non-Euclidian trickery. I’m in this to kick it wickedly. (As if you can't tell). Everything about this place and this life, Making me duller than a butter knife, Was gonna glance at the stars, But fuck me this gutter’s nice. (This gutter's pretty good man) (This gutter's nice) The trace of faceless ages wasted, Just another ten percenter, Part of generation atheist, Turns out all my heroes are problematic rapists, Like Neil deGrasse Tyson, Inappropriate on spaceships, Can't take the pace, Hold my drink while I paint my face like a fucking racist, Fuck your friends and who you came with, (God damn) Might be a recovering nihilist, But I bought a ticket for the last utopia, Werd said 'bring some rhymes along', So I brought a cornucopia, Apologetic polymath, Black hole, Heir of the Cursed A mulatto, an albino, Out of the sky, into the dirt, Let’s see who goes down first, The biggest motherfuckers get burst, Cassandra with a prophet’s caution, Weaving metaphors in torsion, Reverse engineer the pattern out, From the distortion, I’m too busy listing all the fucks I won’t give ‘em, Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke, or won’t listen, Texture and Werd shine like black diamonds dripping, From the thickest gold ribbons, (Gold ribbons). This broke aesthetic is broken Britain. What’s up man, how you living? (How you living?) Peace to the Black Lantern Clan. Sons of Scotland Papillon on the beat. (Salem) This is not pop

Hey, what do you do? What's yer thing? Mine's rap. It got a bit shit but never mind that. I aint really big, I just rhyme man, If I had a quid for every handshake or cypher pass, Ah, still on the pointless task, But at times a laugh so it covers the cracks, Covered up with drugs, That crave for touch gets a temporary crutch. Melodies and music, I lose my nut, I am part of the beat my breath adjusts, We speak on beat, That's how deep it is to us. (Mozi: 'Meow') Searching for purpose, Life is a verse, versus us, Not rehearsed… [Mog] So fae the street, where the people compete, For every scrap of cash or pussy they get, Into the struggles of the rap game, Nothing's changed, money and fame, Is something everybody's out to cement. Vent. Now try and tell me that a cunt can fuck with me on the track, I bet I beat him to the heid and the back, Fae the knees to the sack, Here's the weed, put the green in the fag, As we proceed to crack the teeth of the yak, Blow off the heid and pour the B down the hatch, Until we start to see the green of the glass, RIP to those that D'd in the past, Cunts treat emceeing like a menial task As if it's nothing but a means to the cash, Or easy access to a piece of ass. But what you really need to ask is; 'who's feeling that' What's appealing when these people rap about pealing caps, I say we need to bring the meaning back, Cause all I'm hearing's crap, And there's nothing realer than that.