Correction Lyrics Titanic 2 by Jam Baxter

Featuring(s) : Lee Scott

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Lyrics

"I'm not talking to you anymore"

[Lee Scott]
I sit around and watch the rain
Nothing's changed but its not the same
Going west, stress on the brain
f*ck your rent off, cop a chain
That empty feeling in your chest
Ate a happy meal I was still depressed
Skip the test, chill and rest
Found some money in an old coat think I'm blessed
If it isn't me and it isn't you
What the f*ck's going on then? gis' a clue
I don't even know if I even know
I don't need to go but I need to go
One too many, hobble home
Regretful speech on the dog and bone
Convinced yourself you don't give a f*ck
Made your best shit in a rut
I'm going in, I'm giving up
Pray for change in the cup
Shake it empty, fill it up
Take your last toke, flick the butt
Life's a bad joke but I'm laughing
There's more mistakes that make up an atom
Cut an atom up, time to rebuild
G.O.D billed
Lookin' at the cusp like he's weak willed
But the wheat's milled
He said he couldn't hack it but climbed the steep hill
Just to reach Jill
The sudden racket hushed life can be chilled, keep still
There's nothing on his mind but he seems thrilled
I want me rum on ice and me beef grilled
Belly full of pub grub
I put it in her mouth like glug glug
And I don't really like the club but
*Incoherent mumble rap impression" like Young Thug (get me la?)
I say yeah but I don't understand
Don't judge me I'm a dumb farang
And then it hit me like Clubber Lang
I just need a nice place for me nuts to hang

[Lee Scott]
I'm kitting out me brain with a bunch of LEDs
Me mind's made up but me thoughts won't let me leave
Close the door, bolt it shut, I don't care
Middle finger's in the air we ain't going anywhere naahhh

[Lee Scott & Jam Baxter]
I don't really wanna wile out (wile out)
You can see us from a mile out (mile out)
All you hear the people sayin' is (what's that?)
You can't really wear this style out (ever)
Til' we're whipping the pot (whipping it, whipping it)
Out on the deck (tipping it, tipping it)
Tipping the yacht with an iceberg on me neck
With an iceberg on me neck (x2)
(Whipping it whipping it) tipping the yacht
With an iceberg on me neck (x3)(Whipping it Whipping it) tipping the yacht
With an iceberg on me neck

[Jam Baxter]
Yeah born killer in the cock pit
Fumbling around for his off switch
Lost in the desert head buried in
The sand part-man part-ostrich
Yeah I couldn't understand it at first
Slipped through the cracks in the earth
Shell shocked sheep on the front line
Tongue tied driving a tank in reverse
Yeah, that's you
Shit, who knew?
The whole crew of builders that follow me around
With a drill ain't tightening my loose screw
That trigger ain't gonna pull itself
You were dumb enough to do the honours
And you can flaunt your form as an undead
Blood flecked new colossus
You the human mollusc
I'm done buying bait from these booky shotters
Bare man marks there dickish demeanour
Looking like bait off duty coppers
You're still sniffing that dirt
Bare soil in your septum
Her lips were a pointless invention
She used 'em to poison her henchmen
Yeah pale face, oily complexion
Stack coins in your bedroom
Too much of an old miser to spend them
Yeah so I blame my faults on an evil twin
Track suit made of asbestos, breathe it in
I'm in too deep, a man can't even swim
All these kids wanna ride my wave
But they can't paddle out with a bleeding limb
Put an ear to my bedroom door
All you hear is a squeaking spring
I grab life by it's rat tail suck out the organs
And eat the skin

[Lee Scott & Jam Baxter]
I don't really wanna wile out (wile out)
You can see us from a mile out (mile out)
All you hear the people sayin' is (what's that?)
You can't really wear this style out (ever)
Til' we're whipping the pot (whipping it, whipping it)
Out on the deck (tipping it, tipping it)
Tipping the yacht with an iceberg on me neck
With an iceberg on me neck (x2)
(Whipping it whipping it) tipping the yacht
With an iceberg on me neck (x3)
(Whipping it Whipping it) tipping the yacht
With an iceberg on me neck

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