[Oshea]
Listen, you're rhyming gay, I'll knock you the fuck out
Stop calling the Brookhouse the Brookie, you little fucking... slout
Listen, lad
Blizzard, you're rhyming gay
You said I smoke forty ciggies, it's actually thirty nine a day
Yeah, I'm gunna be honest, this is a mirror this
Listen, my life is great
I love my girl, I love my son, and I'm not bothered about piling on weight
Outside the rap, I've still got every one of my original mate
And I am not a laughing stock when it comes to [?] down at Liverpool eight
Listen, every stage I'm on I rock it
I'll sock your eye socket
And if you had the best CD song collection you'd ever had
It'd have fucking 5ive on it
Every stage I'm on I rock it
And people after this battle are gonna say it's fucking murder one
Cos he got all up in my grill, and I just fucking turned it on
You'll get burned like Meatloaf
Cos your fucking mum looks like Meatloaf
Lad, you're the type of lad that wakes up in the morning and eats toast
Yeah, you are, you're like everyone else
Listen, see every battle I'm in, I'm going for gold
I ain't talking about food when I say you will get Toad In The Hole
Slow it down, I'll kick you in your arse you bell-end
Listen, you little Manc shit, I'm on that freestyle tip
Forget preparing for bars
I admit, Man United are better than Everton
As a football fan, I swear that it's hard
But you can't deny that your fans are fucking shithouses compared to ours
See Blizzard, you're a bell-end
And your mum has got one leg
But we all call her a leg-end
Oshea is on the nicest rhymes
You know I spit it sickly
You've got a cap sponsored by your ma
Yeah that was piss poor
I spit raw, I'll kick your jaw
I'll kick your jaw from here to somewhere called Diggador
[Blizzard: Singapore?]
Singapore, that would have rhymed better
Lad, if you had a sweater on, it'd be a nice sweater
But you haven't got a sweater on, it's a t-shirt
You've got such straight legs you don't even know how your knees work
Your school that you went to, it needs work
Cos people who went to that school, eat dirt
Yeah, you can't fuck with me, I've got the sicker flow
You can't fuck with me, expensive giggolo
Yeah I'm freestyling
Couldn't be silent
Fuck with Oshea and you'll see police sirens
You won't see them you'll hear them, you little bell-end
Like I said before you've got one leg, you leg-end
Blizzard, you little prick, go
[Blizzard]
Yo, what the fuck is Oshea spitting here for?
He said he got crack for my cat, it was out of his Mrs' drawer
Cos your girl's a crackhead, that's why
Fuck Oshea, I don't care where you live or whether it's very dark
I don't care if you live in [?], [?] or Sefton Park
I don't care if you live in Sefton Park, like in the park
You fucking homeless guy
Every time you see me rap you want to moan and cry
That's fucking sad, just cry right now, just do it
[Oshea: I'm not gonna cry]
And he's not gonna cry, oh how embarrassed am I?
I don't even need to look at you I could just rap at the sky
And still get more props than this average guy
Bif up Osh for taking a battle in twenty four hours
Big up me, the reason he has any power
Because without me here he wouldn't be rapping today
So for booing me I don't give a fuck what you say
My name's Bradley Green, I play the tambourine
And when I'm broke I like to punch cash machines
And I'll punch your little average crappy spleen
And wait until you die
And for the record, you might think you've got some advantage that you're at your home crowd
Yeah, well who the fuck's at home now? [Jumps into crowd]
Time
