Eggs - Jam Baxter, Dabbla

If a clown can bake a pie full of flies in his house today

And sell slimy slices for a fiver to a crowd of apes

Then I can fry an egg and call it God if I want to

Sunny side down, trodden, scoff it like its mangetout

Puke that straight up and shot it like a nine bar

Scoop the remains up and flog it like it’s fine art

It’s all in the name son, it’s all just the same young sir

Just words I’m contorting to shapes

Some days seem stranger than fiction can ever be

Especially when I’ve been yammin' trips with my breakfast tea

So I was like boom, what’s with the snake skin?

Better keep schtum, the Gods are deflating

That shoe for the mountains, views are astounding

Loose in the cloud where the monsters are waiting

Dead flesh fading, what’s that curling around my spine like hot crack burning

Swamp rat vermin emerging again

Better boot out now to return to the end, like rah

What a super-stellar par

View forever shrink into a single second

Misdirect 'em through the centre

Futures never happen like the maggots might like 'em to

One day you’re chewing wounds the next that’s what you’re obliged to do

If I were you I wouldn’t take it

Burn your allegiance, lie to their faces

Gather that up, slappin' that sludge on the skyline

Look man’s finally made it, high rise mazes

What’s that snaking around his tongue better watch man changing

Combat training, dead man dancing

Squash that craving, let’s get marching

It’s like my girl’s parallel parking

Shit’s never gonna fit so I squeeze in

Release from the belly of the beast

I be banging on my chest and you’d best to believe it

Swinging from the rooftop baby

Hanging out on the porch all evening

Bangin' on a big fat hootenanny

With a granny in the lap, lean all up in the cup like (Where?)

Smoke all in the (Air)

That’s the way I’m staying

Listen what I’m saying, day in day out we ain’t playing

They should weigh their options while they got em or get took apart

Man ain’t got no business looking hard you little pussyclart

All I wanna do is reel these bars off

Philly B on the beat man I pull it up

And you’d better be ready for the blast off

Me and Jam on the ting we put it up

So high I’ll be laughing my ass off

Looking down on the Earth like (is it?)

With a broke leg trying to get it cast off

Plus you don’t wanna blink you’ll (miss it)

My demographic is ecstasy mixed with acid

And a bit of psilocybin all crammed in one tablet

Raid your drinks cabinet, steal your mum’s jam jar

Go out on a drug-fueled frenzy filled with anger

Blame it on grandpa, you know what he’s like

Easy with a bag of weezy, sleazy on the peace pipe

Freezing on the beats like, they call it cold fronts

Stacking so much paper mate should get yourself a hole punch

And a bag of golf clubs

Long range when I get my pace on

Now they’re saying to get my skates on

What I’m saying is I care not for some paper with an old lady’s face on

Straight up, let me deal with the ting though

Wagwaan gringo chuckin' motherfuckers out the window

Rappers can’t deal with the lingo

Pulling out bars like nobody’s business, killing MC’s on the daily

Make a pig’s ear with a dog’s dinner when I come through

Make your whole crew go crazy

Make your old dear have a blue baby

It’s the LDZ fam, look it up

And you don’t wanna see my zoot turn shady

So it’s back to the book now, cook it up

Yeah, back to the book

Next chapter, land of the crooks

Trapped in the woods, I’m ascending

Bredren, who’s that gremlin stamping his foot, look

Watch and burn, get out the way man we want 'em first

All of the intricacies in my world all merge into one long constant verse

Slapped by a demon, I’m so high I can actually see them

It’s angling season, hook line sinker

I got them, now I gotta actually eat them

So when I say that blind faith is a bitch

Next man think I’m taking the piss

So I’ma just sit back shaking and shit, when really

All I wanna say to 'em is

If a clown can bake a pie full of vibes in his house today

And sell the grimmest ones for fifty nugs to a crowd of snakes

Then we can fry some eggs and call 'em gods if we want to

And serve 'em with a crown of thorns, swimming in some fondue