The IRA knocking on your fucking door,
blow up england to settle the fucking score,
we would rape your women but they already whores,
Your cold as ice I'll put you up to the sun,
Put the heat to your head now you can't run,
I got ice cubes in my cups that are colder then you,
I crumble up papers like I'll be folding your crew


lets battle

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I wouldn't Blow in I was in a windy storm, You rappers are just bitches you spit the norm