{Verse 1: Lee Scott}

Decided a 9 to 5 is unsuited

He fucked music off

Then dreamt to shoot his boss

But he didn’t want to get locked up

So he got drunk, the angel on his shoulder protested

As he climbed inside of a bottle with no exit

Sick of all the council tax warning letters

Left his empty abode, pawned his necklace

Invested his whole stash on drugs and drink

And wouldn't think twice if he could make a penny from selling his soul

Then on a roll he drank his last Bеcks slowly

And wished he nevеr poured that drop for his dead homies

Stressed so he hit the streets

And in a attempt to find supplies

More energetic than his tired eyes suggested

Got stopped by an old friend that he misses but

He just nodded his head and pretended to give a fuck

The tension was building up so he told him:

“Shut your fuckin’ face I never asked you how you was

What makes you think I care?

Did you hear a single word even leave my mouth?

Stupid answer no now boot it

You square…”

He bumped shoulders as he moved on

Thinkin’ ‘fuckin pushover, couldn’t snap a crouton’

Crack, his back hit the deck

The sky had gained a whole new moon

The voices in his head had spoke too soon

Blood blurred his double vision

He rose to his feet and told his old friend:

“Kill me or you’re going to sleep forever

A murder case the police would never piece together”

The threat was ineffective, his friend was about to pounce

So he turned around and bounced

The cowards out of dutch courage