Stone the Crows Songtext
von Roots Manuva

Mind to motion. Know the notion.
Notion! Know shun, No. no - shun...
Nightime passes - sleep man in the valley.
Is a discount two-penny with no vampire flock.
As you can tell, I'm from a basic stock.
I get vexed an' wanna beat the world with a pork chop.
Off beat ... lost the key* and can't find it.
Representation of the spit in the grit.
The devil on my shoulder keep tellin' me shit.
Constantly got me feeling like I'm losin' my grip.
Whats'on in my head - I tried fight back the hate.
I look into the mirror - see the face of a mistake.
Should I really be here, should I really exist?
Should I take these drugs? Should I get so pissed?
I dedicate this to the tippler crew.
Getting drunk, playing punk on the stylophone.
The zone of coasters. coastin' far.
Pissin' in a bottle while drivin' in the car.
Lager lout rap, do you dig my niche?
Toke' he tune off on the pipes of peace...


Cruff-neck scout you know we bought and about.
They major hope in a time o' deep doubt.
We's feelin' the feelin' of knowing the feeling and
Lovin' the feeling cuz it feels so crisp...
Posse on cue they'mouf{?} we jump an' twist
Each and every time we catch a style like this ...
Hither to ... bear witness. { tra la la la }
To the Birth... { tra la la la }
Of the Brute ...{ tra la la la }
And furthermore { tra la la la }
Of the brute { tra la la la }
Sing . brute away . { tra la la la }
Stone the Crows my hands {Aunts} stay giddy.
I dance with hippy chicks more madder than lizzy
I could never understand all the hoorah fuss.
Until my drink got spike with a spoon of moondust.
Dancin' into the night - into the day!
Within my soul abhorred {aboard} the slow decay.
Singin' yippe-yie-yeay - tribal flashback
Back to square one - sound o' Drum.
The tongue of the book - the look of the crooked.
Purple lord please - run come save me...
I don't wanna live until I'm dying to die.
My types o' heaven is a good clean supply.
Love for my tiddly-whack.
Bliss for the todger. More jolly than roger.
With a wad of pink notes ... singin'
One rums, two rums, three rums, four.
Drink five rums and we fall on the floor.
{Tra la la la } Hither to! Bear Witness ...
The brute! {tra la la la }
The birth of the brute . {tra la la la }
And furthermore {tra la la la }
The Brute . shall stay . Brutish!
Yes ... Yes ... and Furthermore ... Yes.
The Brute live ... The brute love ...
The brute know ... Brute . away ...
Brute . ality ... Brutism . The brute!