Do It - Dead Players, Jam Baxter, Dabbla

Ain’t no shoulda, woulda, coulda when it comes to getting out of my mind

I just do it, do it, do it

Ain’t no shoulda, woulda, coulda when it comes to getting out of my mind

I just do it, do it, do it

(Verse One — Dabbla)

Bring that bounce by the fluid ounce

In the house drinking some shit, that I can’t pronounce

Big amounts in the system I’m feeling marvellous

You ain’t gonna fuck with my bubble, by starting arguments

What a cunt, that’s the analysis

Dabbla stay happy as Larry, whoever Larry is?!

Spinning a million different narratives

Whilst I’m showing you who the daddy is

Unanimous verdict, magnanimous

Polygraphic platters with traffic, I’m in your canisters

The highest ranking ambassadors, couldn’t understand

So they ran with a pack of jaguars

Such a hazardous world but it feels rare

Must remain courageous and all of them tings there

For now, back to the buzz whilst its still there

Just promise you’ll be sticking my dick in a wheelchair

(Verse 2 — Lee Scott)

The clocks melting, stop yelping it’s not helping

I figured life out with my head in the troth belching

I blame Franky’s tears on the lack of beers

And it’s too late to audition for the cast of Cheers

I go west when I blaze a J

I’m trying to spend the night on a wasted day

I’m flying through tables like Mick Foley, even the sub titles misquote me

And no we can’t drink slowly, a peasant with a king skin rollie

VIP A-Lister, holding up the bar like a weight lifter

I apologise like Anita Baker

I’m confused which handshake to use when I meet the maker

Just give it to me straight I don’t need the chaser

Say it now and I’m thinking of the meanings later

Ain’t no shoulda, woulda, coulda when it comes to getting out of my mind

I just do it, do it, do it

Ain’t no shoulda, woulda, coulda when it comes to getting out of my mind

I just do it, do it, do it

(Verse 3 — Jam Baxter)

I place an hourly wager on the suicide rates keeper

Long running list of things that you and I hate

Must you arrive late, send warmth for the living things

Plug when the waste falls and wild cards singing hymns

But with a certain inner stillness

I ain’t eating none of the less and welcomed all resulting illness

Inhale the fume without filters, every terraced yard like a tin of cold

pilchards

Each especially apathetic, shrivelled up and enveloped in anaesthetic

Gurgling my bath, allegedly I’m crooks

Grim maintained by cleverly hung hooks, it’s easy

I enter to all applause, two straws in a lake of obscure cures

Surfs up, pirouetting off the edge

Slurp a hole with a blood boiling in my chest

Ain’t no shoulda, woulda, coulda when it comes to getting out of my mind

I just do it, do it, do it

Ain’t no shoulda, woulda, coulda when it comes to getting out of my mind

I just do it, do it, do it

I don’t want this night to end or this life to pass me by

But we keep on drinking, keep on smoking, getting so high

I don’t remember many ways, I wake up tomorrow with no yesterday

But when we need to celebrate and I have yet to figure out a better way

I don’t want this night to end but my friend

If you ain’t got money to spend, go get a lend