- Oh my gosh!
- This is how we do round here!
- Loud and clear.
- Oh yeah!
- We’re gonna take it to the top!
- Listen up!
- It’s the Scene Stealers,
- Giving people with evil demeanours,
- The features of eager beavers,
- You need to see us,
- Before it’s easy to conceive of a team,
- With belief equalling priests speaking of Jesus,
- It’s seamless,
- Ain’t no time to be dreamers,
- Just believe us,
- Look how ill the team is,
- As for the scene blood; we rob, jack and steal it,
- What a sack of eejits! It’s there for the taking
- Just seize it like you mean it,
- It’s not for the squeamish,
- ? crews get abused like Beavis’ penis,
- The meagrest achievements of your previous releases,
- Speeches from me will seem like pieces of genius,
- It’s the Scene Stealers,
- Dream weavers, team leaders,
- Lean bastards; rap now, breathe after,
- Ain’t that splendid? ? imagineers fake adventures.
- We eat cyphers,
- Rip rap the stage show,
- Deep rhymers, kidnap your stagecoach,
- We keep climbing, hungry from a day old,
- Stay cold, straight dough, knock out – K.O!
- Much more than an extra,
- I’m the cause and effect,
- Of an awesome ejection of enormous pleasure to a four minute segment,
- Beyond the normal convention, awarded acceptance,
- Whenever our forum’s in session,
- We always taught you a lesson.
- Naffs and Synners,
- Cussing ? ,
- Eating microwave dinners,
- You see the thing is,
- I’m about to peak now,
- Treat the scene like pussy getting eat out,
- We stand as warriors,
- Who wants to have a pop at us?
- It would have to be a man with lots of guts – that’s obvious,
- Tax got the lust for the rap scholar touch,
- When I speak fans are soaking a vat of knowledge up.
- We steal the scene like journalists in Baghdad,
- Kidnap your Grandad,
- Go pull up the sandbags,
- Stand back, watch the whole scene get ransacked,
- By man Tax – we live like Anthrax,
- Bang that Dag track,
- Till the jam that’s packed,
- As a bad jazz mag is with rank fat slags,
- Promoters know they better have that cash,
- Cos once we stole the show no one grabs that back.
- And it’s a fact that,
- I come to eat the scene like a flapjack,
- The captain of your ship like the Rat Pack,
- Don’t chat crap,
- You’ll always be behind me like my rap sack,
- Let ‘em test us, they’ll get squashed like a flat cat,
- Blat! Blat!
- Hit you smack, dab in your nad bag,
- Tax chats slicker than a back, crack and sack wax,
- Bounce like a lamb rack of sassy fat bats,
- I’m savage as a lass with gash rash on the jam rag.
- Yeah, yeah.
- Scene Stealers.
- Skrein, Doc Synners.
- Capturing the limelight.
- Don’t be standing chatting to your friends at my show,
- I want your full attention.
- Keep your eyes on this!
- Imagineers. Beggar, beggar, beggar fam!
DR. SYNTAX (OUTRO)