Tip:
Highlight text to annotate it
X
ROD straight outta the ding 12 a day ash tray up to the brim
still smoking ***, still living in sin Still going west ham, still never win
Rod the drug mule, stashing diz in a tin Stroking his chin, chilling in the Reading palace
Brogan pulling pints like she's pulling his fallace
In the back garden yeah i'm bunking off Tallis
It's the *** ROD
Keeps himself to himself and himself to The Keep
Extra slim filters, the rizla are green
He dablles in Pall Mall but prefers Golden V
He rolls real sleek, as his name would suggest
Tank-top underneath a leather jacket or fleece
Don't protest, when he fly-kicks your chest
he goes judo in Stratford
Once a month,
Maybe less
Hittin' bench presses hard
and the gym with his dad
Lookin' like an 80s thug
in his Addidas tracks
Stacking P, from smuggling from belguim and that
Packing batches of tobacco in his mum's hatchback
Sat back in his garden with a smoke and a tea
Tap Tap at his gate
I know he hopes it will be
Pascal from down the road with a bump or a key
Or even a little sniff for the *** ROD
Banging tabs of acid on a Tuesday night
Rod and Pascal gettin' down tonight
53 home and he's still feelin' high
Waking up Bruce at a quarter to five
Chillin in the hot-tub with plates of coke
Fancy a joint?
Rod never says no
Political debate going blow to blow
A tea and a blem, now we're ready to go
Breaking the bank on a friday night
2 grand overdrawn,
But it's still alright
Nothin' left,
So I call on WONGA
Where's my ket bag?
I can't wait no longer!