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Clockwork

This song is by Roots Manuva and appears on the album Brand New Second Hand (1999).

Ain't nothin but this uncut cruffness I bring
Don't care bout no fad I do my own ting
Giving chase in this rat race, fears we face
And me be on the case, proud plus brave
Ready to be taking them drastic measures
Get me my treasure then splurt
Could not give a brand new blouse and skirt
I told you both through, fight through the bleak
Clench my teeth dweet, ends often meet
By any which method, positivities be we shepherd
We pounce like left limb leopard
If you ever see me in the street pulling brand new good moves
You're wrong to confuse me with regular riff-raff, I got me cause and calling
Never have I held any love for stalling
Rush and make haste
You down for rebellion left-handed cruff we embrace the minellium

Ticka-ticka tock my golden pen
Scribble 'pon the paper from yassa to when
We drop style 'pon the heathens dem
Those who can't dig it well I feel the problem

Ain't no record that can hold me, I'm oversized
Ears ever be open to the words of the wise
But there's untold cats on my corner perpetrating
Read a few books and now their talking
They're looking to convert yours truly, but I'm unruly
Plus, for the crew like cooly folk
Mixing up the Guinness with the raw egg yolk
'Cause it's all about strength while we walk through the valley of the snipe, heathens
Get thee from my sight, you cats is ever eager
To preach up in my face when you just about scrape to know all that is
How the hell you try to tell me coca-cola got fizz?
I read your pamphlet four times, It don't make sense
You front like you be scholar, Smith smells pretence
Yous best get off your horse, drink your milk, get the frig out
It goes

Ticka-ticka tock my golden pen
Scribble 'pon the paper from yassa to when
We drop style 'pon the heathens dem
Those who can't dig it well I feel the problem

What the frig makes you friggers want to frig with this?
Now you fools got me living with this mental fist
That I wear with knuckledusters, taking out these frogs in their clusters
Three by three, five by five
How would you describe this left handed loony
Toony votoony, dancegate pressure
Heading through the back door straight to the bar
Then I'm gonna get me some firewater
Then I'm gonna scope out a young fine daughter
Ah yes, its my wayward nature
Hip to a caper, soon to have a house with X amount of acre
It goes

Ticka-ticka tock my golden pen
Scribble 'pon the paper from yassa to when
We drop style 'pon the heathens dem
Those who can't dig it well I feel the problem

Ticka-ticka tock my golden pen
Scribble 'pon the paper from yassa to when
We drop style 'pon the heathens dem
Those who can't dig it well I feel the problem

Ticka-ticka tock my golden pen
Scribble 'pon the paper from yassa to when
We drop style 'pon the heathens dem
Those who can't dig it well I feel the problem

Credits

Written by:

Rodney Smith

External links