F*ck it I'm getting out of London
Nothing rhymes with London so I'm gonna rhyme with shit
I quit I f*cking hate the brits and I'm sick of having tea
Scheisse
So why did you move to London
Oh because I hate myself
F*ck it I'm getting out of London
Nothing rhymes with London so I'm gonna rhyme with shit
I quit I f*cking hate the brits and I'm sick of having tea
The whole place smells like piss and I just saw a guy get slit oh please tell the nos to prescribe some happy pills
I mean this tax plantation sucks oh f*ck I'm stuck I'm feeling out of luck I'm heading out the city gonna have a ton of fun
Scheisse