Bunch of c*nts lyrics

by

Sleaford Mods


Bunch of c*nts
Bunch of
Bunch of f*cking absolute c*nts
Bang banging on the sharpened front
Nonplus
The flicker, the fruit machine, the guaranteed bus
And two-for-one
We aren't the sitcom
Ricky, you played it out to the finest crumb on the armchair, scary!
Fresh leaves, morning petrol and sweetie
House, Hansel and Gretel
Itch to an hair of what the f*ck
Lost souls in the Victoria Centre look lost bruv
Dr Dre, them headphones are sh*t
And they're f*cking everywhere mate
Boom box
Urban toss
The ghost of the beaming light
Through the f*cking beatbox

Bunch of c*nts
Bunch of c*nts
Bunch of c*nts
Bunch of c*nts

Hide behind the speaker
Bob to the next tune BOOM!
In the jungle the mighty jungle
The lion's off his nut
Gold rings, bracelets, years on the road
The SSP went
So I better get the benefit form on the go
I got four, take one quick
I know there's more
We get split
On the endless bar lights, sea side resort
A lump in ya mouth
And bang go the rides the fair ground rides
The screaming crowd
I sound like I got a sand paper mouth
Touch me thick I'm an Angel Delight
Angel Delight, Farley's Rusks
I want the Spangles right
Bunch of c*nts
Bunch of c*nts just like that
Bunch of c*nts just like that
Bunch of c*nts just like that
Just like that
Just like that
Just like that
Just like that
Just like that
Just like that
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