Free download
Its UK Hip-Hop but not as you know it...
Song Info
Genre
Charts
#19,169 today
Peak #413
#624 in subgenre
Peak #16
Uploaded
July 17, 2014
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.8 MB • 160 kbps • 3:17
Lyrics
Don't call it a comeback, bitch, I've been here for years
Way back from the time where dope cars had 4 gears
Back when motherfuckers used to say 'I'm Bad!'
Back when I couldn't quite beat a hooker like my dad!
Back when I was busting windmills on the mat
Back when Jay-Z could have been my opening act!
Back when I just wanted to be Kool Moe Dee
when Lenny Henry was the blackest motherfucker on TV
Back when my fan base was pre-pubescent
In a battle murkin rappers had to call them red crescent
Back when MCs had a Disk Jockey
Back before I hit the weights and looked like fucking Rocky
Back when you were proud your car had vinyl seats
Back before my first LP was hitting the streets
Back before Schumacher won his first grand prix
Back before I even called myself the Mink-C
Still spend that cash on hoes. Still pack out shows
Still spit more flavour than the average joe
Not a love ballad singer, it's true
I'm not Mr Right, I'm Mr Hiding Right Behind You!
80s flavour, Fuck kids up in my rhyme
Operation Yewtree's just a matter of time
And if the coppers an MC tell him bring that shit on
He'll get fucked up by this great fuckin briton!
And then I'll get my spit on, I'm still fucking large
Still in charge. Flow like a barge
If you black or asian, i kick it up a level
Most of my enemies still consider me a white devil
can't believe it, people think i'm wack
just because i haven't dropped a track since way back
still spraying hoes with my old assed semen
emerge from the brothel feeling just like he-man
cats are acting all surprised I'm back
Stacks of rap acts hoped they'd heard my last track
And i've heard all the rumours, how i died of an OD
ended up in prison, ate my wife on PCP
How I made love songs with an assumed name
How I won the lottery and just got out the fucking game
But no, I'm back and I'm here to bug out
Fuck being benched I'm running from the fucking dug out
now rappers shit their kecks when the mink-c wrecks
on they iPhone, iPad, turntable or they tape decks
Soon I'll need specs, and a hearing aid to listen
For now I'm on a mission, put the mic into submission
Dissing hella suckers from the Humber down to clumber
I'll do the funky chicken, never catch me doing Zumba
I May be older for a rap star
Fuck McDonalds, I'm at my fucking crib eating foie gras
They all hate me, king of shove ha'penny
Rockin' beats in this ole house, like I'm shaky
Welsh rhyme saying, leave you splattered like a dead mod
see me bust my rhymes from glastonbury to eisteddfod
This ain't tarot, fuck the straight and narrow
Shoot that poison arrow, more pissed than an abbo
In the summer rock Adidas in the winter donning karrimore
At war I'll leave ya face down in the pool like Michael Barrymore
yeah, ya know my name
But to a devil, I guess us welsh all look the same
Racist motherfuckers just some shit I gotta deal with
Welsh rugby shirt, in a store they think I'm stealin
Feeling old shit that I did back in the day
From Devilman to Dana Dane, Kane to Double-J
Back to get my lean on cos I'm a fucking phenom
download all my shit on mink-c.com
Back to rock this jam, Ace Ha on the mix
Back to save ya, like a dealer dealing ya fix
Write another rhyme, kick back and light a Benson
A true Welsh man of the people, like Gavin Henson
Thats what I said son, I gone and left you
Without a funky beat to step to
But now I'm back you got to kill that frown
So tell me, Is you down - or is you ain't down?
