1. |
Revolution
04:36
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The revolution awaits, restless in the wings
there's a change in the air - can you sense it in the wind?
you can turn a blind eye, tip your stetson, drink your gin
'cos you won't feel better if you see the mess we're in
a lot of stressful things seem to mould your thoughts and
make you lose your outlook of what's most important
but how can I complain about a school that the state runs
when hundreds of millions don't even have education
don't get me wrong, I try to not let it bother me
but when half the children in the world live in poverty
how can I not be? How can I not see
just 'cos I've never met 'em, don't mean they're not real
look at how we live, something's not right
got the funds for fights, but not the hungry... right
when I say "we" I don't mean England or Britain
mean the whole of mankind as a collective organism
mean the whole world, every single person on this planet
gonna have to come together if we're gonna make it happen
if we're gonna live in a world we can be proud of
non-money based and the people have the power
When I say Revolution don't think I'm talking about
walking out with a torch and scorching a Lord's house
or pissed off pitchfork wielding violent mobs
fighting lots, screaming the odds out like mindless yobs
stumbling through the streets like bulls in china shops
that's not what it is, it's about trying to stop
the phony motherfuckers who are right at the top
with their titles and whatnot, eyes on the lot
it's not the people you can see, they're behind the scenes
the faceless puppeteers of a blinded machine
it's about being able to express your views
and unbiased TV crews telling the news
every single person having food, clothes and shelter
Mother Nature's in danger and no one's going to help her
Start a Revolution, lets start a Revolution
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2. |
Jeremy Kyle
04:09
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Grimy like Frank, often rotten
marching through fields till my socks are sodden
problems forgotten, snow steady dropping
cheeks getting redder than the belly of a robin
I keep bodding, to the sounds on my iPod
dropping off some eye-drops to a cyclops
ticking like a time bomb in Saigon
I write songs and rhyme strong when the mic's on
not a dick, don't set up chumps
stand, point and laugh like I'm Nelson Muntz
and this fella's stumped like when Matty Prior
whips off his bails England off to a flyer
whittle sticks into instruments fit
to play cricket with and I hit you for 6
with my homemade bat, smash the pavilion
bring up the first Test Match million
dancing samba with some brilliant Brazilian's
more butch than Serena Williams
and I'm killin' em like I'm Lewis Hamilton
and the battle between Mercedes and McLaren'll
be like the Formula 1's
a repeat of the war our granddads fought and won
not poor and I'm definitely not rich
I've got the silky skills of Luka Modric
Ah man sod it, start a new scheme
smoking doobies, laser beams passing through me
walking DNA bar code
a lone desperado with a cargo of dark flows
in my dark dark flows there's some dark dark words
in my dark dark words there's a dark dark curse
this curse is like Tutankhamen
can harness the arsenal to harm and starve you
carve you into a bar stool with a harpoon
animated violence like an Itchy Scratchy cartoon
Mr Consistent, you're like a see-saw
don't make brews man, I get my tea poured
got my fingers in more honey's than a friend of Eeyore
more birds than the dude presenting T4
just kidding, my lucks in free-fall
so I'm eating meatballs, watching Misfits on E4
Make way and say Grace for the dudes in a hazy daze
chain blazing jay's till my throats like razor blades
have made their way down my nasal way
sounding like Macy Gray
late in the day eating takeaways
lazy days, Spaced and The Day Today
it's safe to say mate it's make or break
I better make my way before I fade to grey
so take a break... and I'm telling you why
I don't wanna stay at home and watch Jeremy Kyle
I better better my style, I better not crack
'cos I'm better than that, I bet a betting man would bet on that
reckon this big brash mish mash of shit's fat?
give me that squidgy black bifta back quick fast
syntax fresher than a tic-tac
hits fast like a sip of sherry from a hip flask
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3. |
Pick Up Your Hat
04:42
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4. |
Internude
05:01
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It's that, friendly rapping belly laughing Benny Baggins
special talents clever like a set of Penn & Teller magic
mad shit, I wanna fly away like Lenny Kravitz
have many travels till this country finds a better balance
better standards for the geriatric demographic
heavy taxing for the wealthy bastards penny grabbing
I'm Benny Baggins, the freshwater pirate
setting sail, sights set on warmer climates
quiet village kid, rural living in the sticks
chilling, getting pissed, swimming rivers with a spliff
I'm ripping up the script, stuff you speak's just the same
middle of the road like sheep in country lanes
cos truth is, I'm more flat caps than snap backs
mad swag? nah, but I got a backpack of flapjack
cashback! needless to say I had the last laugh
fat raps assemble like they're prefab flat-pack
No, we don't really care what you think
'cos we are eccentric
no, you shouldn't really care what they think
'cos you are eccentric
A friendly dude, I won't diss or pester you
never rude, glorify the things that are best in you
I'll chef for you, a feta filled chicken breast or two
if meat isn't preferable I make a wicked veggie stew
won't make a spectacle, I'll compliment your spectacles
be a friend to you, tell you that you're looking extra cool
sort of dude you meet in queues at festy portaloos
I'll let you go before me, even when I'm desperate for a poo
I'm exaggerating though, stuff's only sort of true
will pour you brews, play you awesome tunes and talk stuff through
if your crew's got more spanners than a toolbox
chill like a cool-box or refrigerated food shop
sing it from the rooftops, Baggins he's back on beats
back from a sabbatical to batter all these wack emcees
without back up, back - just let me at them
back with a comeback to better bloody Ricky Hatton
No we don't really care what you think
'cos we are eccentric
no, you shouldn't really care what they think
'cos you are eccentric
Jabberwocky, rapping cocky, acting dodgy vagabond
camped in bothy's, swagging coffee, Robin Loxley dapper don
got a swagger on, a country chap bodding through the motherland's
muddy tracks, keep it popping like bubble wrap
find me covered up, covers up, blazing up some bud
or chugging rum with my buddies playing Rummikub
or in the tub, bubbles covering the rubber duck
rubadub, scrubbing up to dub and munching monkey nuts
find me roaming up the old pass at Honnister
with my dog up the Old Man of Coniston
creating buzz like a chainsaw
when the rain pours hold it down like a shave-horse
easy going, very rarely miffed
hard to drive me up the wall like a Stannah stair lift
It's Benny Baggins, Cyril Sneer
wittering in your ear from a ship on Windermere
No we don't really care what you think
'cos we are eccentric
no, you shouldn't really care what they think
'cos you are eccentric
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5. |
Gatsby
02:48
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6. |
Primitive Pleasure
04:41
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7. |
Gung ho
04:35
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A menace with the raw form, wears a crown of hawthorn
awesome speech, flawless beats, off key or 4/4
darker than Mordor, a mighty viking warlord
storming your door like war-torn Warsaw
a forlorn figure, forefinger bout to force the trigger
busy with the thoughts that form a born sinner
lost in his visions, rowdier and louder
sippin after after hour, snortin powder for the power
devours with a quick snort, sharp as a ripsaw
peasants racing rickshaws, chasing him with pitchforks
what's it all for? the thrills and the kicks
substance forms all the shit that he spits
renegade mismatch swings with a pickaxe
witchcraft, got his blood boiling like its chip fat
packing more clout than an all out storm cloud
forcing his warped thoughts out till he walks proud
Gung ho! we never holding back
focused raps on golden tracks, sharpened bars like broken glass
we go Gung ho! steady waiting for the drum roll
heavier than dumbo, entering the unknown
He's that shadow watching you round the woods, in the dark
he's the painting with the moving eyes when you look at art
sick and twisted missionary, without sufficient missions
forced to waste his time by spitting to the given rhythms
trapped in a prison, a vision of his warped mind
thoughts try to turn him to torture and war crimes
Savage maverick, ready with his bag of tricks
stabbing kids, all the way from Haverigg to Hammersmith
man's making history, ancient aborigine
with stunning proficiency he conjures up similes
wonderful imagery adds insult to injury
if you swear to him you better wash your mouth with Listerine
ninja kicks injure cliques, hissyfitting hypocrites
sipping liquid acid, tripping like a hippy kid
victory like '66, steady like the skunk grow
we out, we all out.. we going gung ho
Gung ho! we never holding back
focused raps on golden tracks, sharpened bars like broken glass
we go Gung ho! steady waiting for the drum roll
heavier than dumbo, entering the unknown
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8. |
Mood Swings
03:38
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9. |
Adults Tea Party
04:15
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Benny B spitting sickness in your ear
Bad T on the beats with chapatti's and beer
instilling fear into your hearts with art form's
that are darker than Darth Maul from Star Wars
we got it locked like a car door
not bullseye mate, we treble 20 on the dartboard
stop and think, we're not dropping poppy hits
and shoddy shit like them other cocky pricks
in fact man, pretty much the opposite
in that 2% of music that isn't proper shit
most don't know we keep it bouncing like a pogo stick
oh shit, keep it fresher than a polo
LA12 is our postcode
kinda like the shire but with no Frodo
we laid back northerners don't tend to showboat
pace of living is set to slo-mo
you develop in dark rooms like photos
and exposed to light you might go loco
drunker than a hobo, raps Han Solo
mug you for nothing but your last Rolo
Benny B and Bad T in case you missed it
the makers of sick shit from the Lake District
small town but we ain't spitting feathers
David Haye paved the way, bigger ain't better
we dining with fine wine and vintage cheddar
add a bit of colour to the English weather
from Urswick to Ulverston, Dalton to Coniston
Barrow, Bowness, Grizedale Forest and
the whole district, we keep it Northern
banging out tracks to keep a leash on the boredom
it's blatant shit, sick since '86
holding it together like a paperclip
get some chips and bun, bit of mixer and rum
sup a bit up, bun a spliff cos we're done
that's it, all I've got time but stay tuned
I'll skin up a fat one and you can make brews
I know to get where I want that it's gonna be damn hard
a bit of a long shot and I'm no Frank Lampard
regardless of that I'm determined not to scuff it
rush it, flush it away and make rubbish
I'm the general public's pundit
a source of thought that ain't government funded
and my bars contain darkened images and figures
like the bars than harness the most sinister prisoners
I'm a minister for the board of British youth
and the bored British youth want more things to do
one more things true, I use wordplay and metaphors
to demonstrate you've never met a force that's better or
even comes close 'cos we're better than most
but that's a bad habit, we don't endeavour to boast
but when Franklin wrote the pen is mightier than the sword
it's no coincidence he'd read my rhyme book the night before
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10. |
Lovely Day
02:39
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Usually I'm a lazy dude
wake at 2, make a brew, read the paper through
but it's a summers day, hotter than an oven mate
looks like it's gonna be a lovely day
British summer time and it's roasting hot
pour ice cold milk on my Coco Pops
grab a glass of OJ, shower and go change
gone are the old days of showers and snow flakes
cos man it's shorts and sun-cream weather
no feeling better when there's no need for sweaters
no need for fake tan, throw on my Raybans
and get a phone call - "lets go to the lake man"
think that's a great plan, grabbing my car keys
nip into town for a crate and a barbie
nowt's better than relaxing on a Sunday
and life feels better when you're basking in the suns rays
Life's great writing rhymes by the lake
with your mates and an 8th and a 99 flake
I smile and I wave at some fine looking babes
and today's got the makings of a fine summers day
when hot pants come out, it seems pretty obvious
its hotter than the hottest chick in Florianópolis
girls in their bra's in convertible cars
that are looking so fine that I'm slurring my bars
swerving my car it's enough to make your eyes pop
shades on man, cooler than an ice pop
don't you love it when it's World Cup fever
this time's our time I'm a firm believer
love beer gardens, swimming and bikinis
flip flops, Calippo's and cricket on the TV
festivals, cider, I love drum n bass
but more than all that I love a good summers day
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Bad Transmission Ulverston, UK
Ska/reggae/hiphop band/social experiment hailing from Ulverston,
Cumbria.
"An Excellent Band" - Pauline Black, The Selecter.
"A bunch of complete idiots" - Ted Transmission, Bad Transmission band manager.
... more
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