Came down from the trees and crawled back to the swamp
grew a fungus on my lip and a head full of chomp
with an erection in my finger
showed it to the cops
selling bullet-holed kneecaps and protection for the shops
made the Sunday World cover and hung it on my wall
leopard-skin prints and the mis-spelt tats
this season’s sovereigns and shaved heads in caps
caught with the Es and going on the grass
got her name on my neck and my dick in her ass
burned down the community centre
to resist Papes and the GAA
hit my bi-tch a smack and give her one for the UDA
so pump on the iron and I'll be keeping the piece
straight outta tha Shankill and fu-ck tha police.