Southside Willy from Ferndown, Dorset comes with another humorous track. This one, Dirty Talk, is self produced and talks about the artist’s favourite subjects, such as using a cupboard for a vocal booth and dick cheese.
Produced, performed, mixed and mastered by: Southside Willy
Video by: Southside Willy
Southside Willy
- https://twitter.com/swillyraps
- https://soundcloud.com/swillyraps
- https://www.instagram.com/swillyraps/
- https://www.facebook.com/swillyraps
- https://open.spotify.com/artist/4jZZ16RjhHcp7EO5iuY0Qh
Lyrics:
(Verse 1)
Step in the booth, but the booth is a wardrobe
Your dad’s sound, but your mother is a whore though.
That’s the truth, I got dupes of the porno
About to get burned ’cause I cook it al-forno.
You wanna sign this? No one really fucks with me
Uncool, stone cold sober, snub the weed.
You want a real rapper talking ’bout “puff the trees”
Not a grammar nazi hung up on apostrophes.
That’s me though, rock up in my speedos
Cover up the bulge so nobody yells “paedo!”
Front page next day called me cereal killer
Caught red handed fucking up some Weetos.
Back in the day I was a MySpace emo
Before that baggy jeans, so greebo.
I don’t drink but I’ll sip on some whisky
And always pick a cappuccino over vino.
(Verse 2)
Pack a picnic of dick cheese and bird seed
Keep it in your pants out here spreading herpes.
I murder these beats like I’m thirsty
But the truth is I’m part time, unworthy.
I turned up that one time with three verses
Still here chatting shit ’cause the giggles worth it.
It’s hard not to get too dirty
Sometimes but I think what if my son would have heard this.
That boy’s gonna grow up to respect his mother
Maybe rap like his dad spitting bars in a cupboard.
Low budget but the freedom to fuck it up
I make music for myself, nobody other.
I’m not here to get discovered. Did I stutter?
Did I skip when your connection buffered?
View count low, I’m doing stupid numbers
Maybe ’cause I’m butters, I’m an ugly motherfucker.
(Verse 3)
I’m a straight A with the awkward aim
And I hit or miss with the words I play.
But I speak facts on the tracks I make
I got no shame for the lane I race.
No, don’t call me Greybeard, you wanna keep thuum
Wingspan like a dragon, better make room.
Never got that hair transplant, Wayne Rooney
I’m a mother loving silver fox, George Clooney
Fucked the rhyme scheme, unfinished 16
But with a little tweak it fit so clean.
I’m out of place, looking lost in this scene
Like that time I went diving, no clue where the clit be.
You wanna battle me? Shit, that’s pretty risky
Least for me, I can’t think that quickly.
Pinky promise, hit me back when I’m 50
You bring the cap and I’ll attack with the shift key.