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The Grotbags EP [2017]

by Delivery Room

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Shrink wrapped, jewel case with thermal printed artwork & disc.

    Includes unlimited streaming of The Grotbags EP [2017] via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 2 days
    Purchasable with gift card

      £6 GBP or more 

     

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.

    Digital download also includes the official music videos
    for the original & DJ Riseone's Remix of "Phlegm"
    as well as the brand new video for "Space Cadet"
    Purchasable with gift card

      name your price

     

1.
1 - Intro 01:13
2.
[Hook] We're are the lost cause, tosspots, deadbeat, dickheads/ Ingrate, shit stained, redneck, inbreds/ To sum it up, we're all of the above/ Ask us for a favour, we'll ask you what it's worth/ x2 [Verse 1] I'm a scum bag, usin' your bird as a fuckin cum rag/ Your bitch has been hit more times than a punchbag/ Finger in her fudd then we shove it up her mud flap/ Burst arse, drippin' as I'm givin' her a moustache/ If you must ask, we never wore a rubber/ Lifted up her dress n then proceeded with the plunder/ Playing purple rain we proclaimed that we loved her/ Promised to be true n then we bent her 'er n bummed her/ None of your concern, a gentleman never tells/ Guzzlin' my sperm, my genital smeggy smell/ Blue waffle Trollop on the end of my bell/ The sket fucked to high heaven, then we left her in hell/ The village bike, anybody for a ride?/ The fuckin' fat slag is seldom satisfied/ Wi' a full tube a lube, excessively applied/ N my fist in her minge coz her rectum has died/ [Hook] We're are the lost cause, tosspots, deadbeat, dickheads/ Ingrate, shit stained, redneck, inbreds/ To sum it up, we're all of the above/ Ask us for a favour, we'll ask you what it's worth/ x2 [Verse 2] And it's still no enough, so stop actin' pally/ Dough in my hand or I'll slow poke your granny/ "It wasn't me" Scooby Doo said to Shaggy/ While Fred was beggin' Velma for a double team wi' Daphne/ Extremely graphic skeet plastered arse cheeks/ Money shot, glory hole, bukkake tag team/ Fish flapped slags get it crammed like a sardine/ Gagged up banged her back passage expanded/ Backhanded, nad deep in this mad freak/ The damn leash snapped and she went on a stampede/ Bad G! Please pass me the Charlie/ N a little bit of Ket so we can replicate last week/ Lack of sleep, it's about time we crash landed/ Petrol jelly-legged, temazepam antiques/ Frantic antics gettin' mingin' on a drug binge/ Gantin' on the flange of your missus and her mum's minge! [Hook] We're are the lost cause, tosspots, deadbeat, dickheads/ Ingrate, shit stained, redneck, inbreds/ To sum it up, we're all of the above/ Ask us for a favour, we'll ask you what it's worth/ x2
3.
4.
[Hook] Your bird wants the D-Room, these tunes/ Are natural aphrodisiacs, gargle on my semen/ Beats boom, feel your double D's bounce/ Drugs off your jugular, slumped on the meat hook/ x2 [Verse 1] Dead, zero respect for these skets/ Stay out my face when I'm speakin' my set/ When I'm peak at my best and I'm breathin' a verse/ Keepin' it fresh, we get deemed as a threat/ Always sharpenin' our craft while you sleep in your bed/ Hear maniacal laughter as we creep in your head/ Say it 3 times, we appear in the flesh/ Speakers prolapse like the keek in your kegs/ Livin' in the fast lane speedin' ahead/ Past the slow coaches, sleep when I'm dead/ Easy as jet-stream-linin' our threads/ Weave the rhyme schemes with an evil intent/ Irrelevant emcees, fuck your feeble attempts/ Gate crash wi' nae stage pass at weekly events/ Wickedest of stench, fae the nauseating scents/ You've only had one draw and you're not making sense! [Hook] Your bird wants the D-Room, these tunes/ Are natural aphrodisiacs, gargle on my semen/ Beats boom, feel your double D's bounce/ Drugs off your jugular, slumped on the meat hook/ x2 [Verse 2] Never shy but were quite often bitten/ Taken with a pinch of the verbal assault victims/ We cause friction amongst the opposition/ Sort it out yourselves, there's no competition/ So launch shipment like lines off the cistern/ Lost digits, wanderin' the orbital system/ Warped cosmonauts, acid rain drop spittin'/ Morse clicking HELP, we've lost the plot thickens/ Like jaws on a mission, the trauma bond villain/ Mangle heavy metal like a head on collision/ God given, could say that we're born with it/ Always on point never falter from the rhythm/ Time permittin' metronomic clock tickin'/ Riseone on the cuts n you're all awe stricken/ Disk jock spinnin', lethal like raw chicken/ Stone cold turkey, happy fucks-giving/ [Hook] Your bird wants the D-Room, these tunes/ Are natural aphrodisiacs, gargle on my semen/ Beats boom, feel your double D's bounce/ Drugs off your jugular, slumped on the meat hook/ x2
5.
5 - Jump 03:27
[Hook] C'mon jump, everybody up/ Grab all of your mates, make your way to the front/ x4 [Verse 1] This is not Beyoncé, we ain't crazy in love Nah, opposites attract so we're hatin' your guts/ See the inspiration comes fae recreational drugs/ We jot god like rhymes that were created fae dust/ It's an insatiable thirst, a craving an urge/ Stay wavy as fuck as we're tearing it up/ Never wastin' a dunt, we will scrape till it's done/ It's not just our noses our faces are numb/ Disdain and disgust, prepare for the worst/ Like sodium chloride bathing a slug/ Phosphorus flames, feel the pain as you burn/ Inhaled in your lungs as it came from above/ Like a mace gettin' swung, we will dae in your nut/ Straight, cave in your skull 'til your brains made o' mush! Escalate flows like the rate of your pulse/ We raise the floor, you ain't elevated enough/ [Hook] C'mon jump, everybody up/ Grab all of your mates, make your way to the front/ x4 [Verse 2] A year to the day, better believe we're here to stay/ We've reached the stage where we don't even need the praise/ Been to places, seen some faces, been amazin'/ Deletin' you weaklings who need replacin'/ We're rearranging fuck boys that bleach yer anus/ Cease the fakeness, learn how to be creative/ Coz perseverance ultimately leads to greatness/ Cheats n wasters, there's latency in your cadence/ Needy MCs always seeking status/ Try n compete against us, defeat is waitin'/ Sleep depravement, all you fuckers need awakenin'/ Sheep who're grazin', you are the reason we dae this/ Seasons changin' so should your cerebral matrix/ Re-evaluate n gee your brain a face lift/ Yo! We leave you reachin' to repeat the playlist/ So get up off your seat, c'mon feel the bass lift/ [Hook] C'mon jump, everybody up/ Grab all of your mates, make your way to the front/ x8
6.
6 - Murky 02:49
[Verse 1] Spanner in the work-shop-lifting the dead weight/ Five finger discount, everybody gets paid/ Bet raised, pens wage war, c'mon let's play/ I'm ten steps ahead of you cretins up in this chess game/ Check mate, retracin' your steps on your escape/ Root canal, bargin' in to set your dental record straight/ Metal brace yourself as you're headin towards your end game/ no credit left, spent at your expense mate/ Spectators speculate, could never emulate/ Genetics pre-determined, we're destined to be ahead of you/ Fell away, diluted music took you, lead astray/ We're verbally compelled n replicatin' the better days/ Senseless misdirection, you're pointless, whit the hell ye dane?/ Despiteful best intentions, attempts n efforts get left to waste/ Cell decay, your central nervous system error message failed/ Ventricle expelling pools of crimson red from severed veins/ [Hook] We stay murky, downright dirty/ Say you don't like us? Whit's That? FUCK YE! X4 [Verse 2] Bringin' closure to an open mic, this didn't happen overnight/ Relentless dedication bro, we got that get up go n drive/ we don't comply or coincide wi' your approach in life/ Forever stayin' stationary, your borin' shit jus' won't suffice/ So on your bike, but know that broken spokes just won't provide/ Support in life, coz nothin's left to luck, we won't be rollin' dice/ So precise, supersonic audio wi' sonar sight/ Sat in darkness flowin' rhymes, commanded by a poltergeist/ The ghost inside, invokes a type of silent mind control device/ Cold as ice, you're froze in time, opponents get immobilised/ Hope'll die, when I spike you like a porcupine/ Your dome is fried, your wig is pickled, out your dish n soaked in brine/ Composers float aboard the rides n symbols, don't ignore the signs/ Your poems over glorified, your focus is an oversight/ Your ego's overgrown in size, expose your deep encoded lies/ Leave the set wi' no goodbyes, we ain't here to socialise/ [Hook] We stay murky, downright dirty/ Say you don't like us? Whit's That? FUCK YE! X4
7.

credits

released February 14, 2017

All rights reserved. Recorded, mixed and mastered by Delivery Room 2017. All songs written by Delivery Room. All Cuts by DJ Riseone. Artwork by Phil Jones.

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