Comin' out firing like a state trooper Your Mum's uglier than Swansea's Steve Cooper Sitting in your bedroom with gravy down your vest Chatting more sh.it than Colin off Quest I've got the moves like Darryl the Yank Your moves are like Teresa May - fuucking wànk Just like Shakespeare I do the bard-ing You're fuucking useless just like Dido Harding
Your rhymes are relegation standard, just like Wycombe And like Tarn tonight I'm going to absolutely dick 'em Battle me? That's a death wish and you're no Charles Bronson Your chances of winning are smaller than Lee Johnson My verbal high press will make your head spin for days You're out of your depth like that daft tw*t Morais Your mum weighs more than that fat git Akinfenwa My lyrics hit harder than a headbutt from Chris Benoit So stand back boy, and learn from what the men say If rap was a league you'd be going down with Wednesday
Daryl the Fresh Prince of Barnsley... Now, this is a story all about how My life got flipped-turned upside down And I liked to take a minute Just take a knee I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Barnsley In Edmond, Oklahoma born and raised On the playground was where I spent most of my days Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool And all shootin some football outside of the school When a couple of gays who were up to no good Started touching schlongs in my neighborhood I got in one little fight and my mom got angry She said 'You're movin' to a club called super Barnsley' I begged and pleaded with her day after day But she packed my suite case and send me on my way She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket. I put my walkman on and said, 'I might as well kick it'.…
Talking about battle cries: Can anyone remember the handful of lads at the bottom right of the Ponty, who burst into song just after kick off, every single game, in the late 1990s. It only lasted about 20 seconds and I probably misheard, but it sounded like they were repetitively singing about "A bit of violence". It's been bugging me for years.