Bulletproof Songtext
von Jam Baxter

Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah...
You ain′t gotta worry 'bout me...′bout me
Worry 'bout me...
Haven't gotta worry ′bout me. about me
About me

Except when I′m doing some fucked up shit

Yo these wasted summer nights are our perennial achievements
I offer Viking burials at sea at your convenience
Peace peace...
I'll catch you in Valhalla
Roll on stage, neck a jug of gin and shout at ya
Out flank ya, pincer movements
Features looking like your malnourished children drew them
And you wonder why you′re disillusioned?
Maybe you're just terrified of dying as a wrinkled human?

I ain′t gunna move an inch I'm lounging
Raid the fridge with telescopic arms, Dhalsim
Catch me in the Adriatic drowning
Scuba dive through my life in rotten terrace housing


I am not tied, glued or cable tied to anything
Fuck the weak adhesive you weasels are peddling
I could fill a canyon with the dead weight I′m severing
Throbbing veins coursing with Adrenalin

I ride an old dune buggy with the slashed breaks
Ridding shotty with a gash clad in black lace
Perform at the apocalypse, back stage
Jesus on a cello and the Devil playing slap bass
Yeah Demon on a tambourine
Arms like tentacles sculpted out of Plasticine
...and I'm still doing dirt
So you must be fucking tripping if you think my grubby hands are clean

Another week another relapse... yeah
But you ain't gotta worry ′bout me
So save me your bullet point feedback (save it)
I clocked how to juggle that G

Yeah... you man be crippling our organs (standard)
But you ain′t gotta worry 'bout us
Still bulletproof villains living lawless (lawless)
We still shut it down cuz


Look. Yeah I′ve seen what these needles do
That's why I never touched ′em, never need to
Let alone lend you man a tenner
On a 2 AM stairwell buried in forever

Yeah. I hope you found peace finally
I hope you're off the brown, I understand why you lied to me
But last month I barely moved three meters
Sat at yard belling beak dealers, oh the irony

Anyway... fuck this sentimental shit
Still a stir crazy, reckless, Henny necking hedonist
Still the gold medallist...
I keep fifty six weighing down my neck cuz it′s decorative

I slip the ribbons in a heart and hand them all
Straight to these curvy, dirty stop outs I haven't called
Yeah... Me and her used to fuck a lot
Yeah... But now I've got her number blocked

It′s funny how your bredrins turn their back on you
Just ′cause there's some freezing
Clod shit you′re try'na battle through
I thought you of all people understood
I′d back you if the Air Max One was on the other foot

In the dark nights the fireflies cower
Your ever jealous eyes cry an icy white shower
Sour... but shits bless
I ain't shed a solitary tear since that bitch left

Another week another relapse
But you ain′t gotta worry 'bout me (nah)
So save me your bullet point feedback (save that)
I clocked how to juggle that G
Yeah... you man be crippling our organs (organs)
But you ain't got to worry ′bout us (about us)
Still bulletproof villains living lawless
Yeah, we still shut it down cuz

Yeah yeah... that was you. Ha