War Hero

If you haven't heard my name, time to let you know
This is YBP, coming to you live from your home radio
If the static isn't stopping, adjust your antenna old chap
If you don't know how, do us all a favor and waddle right to your god damn grave

When I popped out the womb
I suffered no damn buffoons
My eyes don't cry and I tasted no salt
I pulled out a colt and made the nurse stop
As I grew I aged none the wiser
I already had accounts like Scrooge McMiser
And my family don't know to react
How from the age of four I was pimping from the play mat
Parents called me wild, sent me off to school
My crew grew bigger and so did my jewels
I ate with headmistress, not with those chumps
And secured more funding to buy her stripper pumps
There never was a time where I wasn't on that grind
And the sycophants keep me up all night
So I made a army in front of my door
And gave them Ak's to give them what for

I'm fighting a war
I'll even the score
I can't seem to die
I've just never been that poor
I always keep them guessing
And I never let them know
For if I'm going out
It's for the dough and these hoes

I'm an MP that's for damn sure
But I never represent for the gang wars
I rep Churchill, Bond, Downing and Downton.
I'm so damn rich I could steal us a mountain
But I'm a rebel in the aristocrat way
I'm a man about town with something to say
And I never draw blood, never make a man limp
But I got shooters who blow like a german blimp
So think twice when you even think of crossing me
Lest you feel my burns like some scalding tea
Let your mother find you beaten and bruised
Never cross a lord if your blazer was used
On the playground I met a boy named Tom
A skinny lad with no taste and no Vuitton
He tried to steal my ball so I went to tell the teacher
Not to go get him, but to find a funeral preacher

I'm fighting a war
I'll even the score
I can't seem to die
I've just never been that poor
I always keep them guessing
And I never let them know
For if I'm going out
It's for the dough and these hoes

At the ripe age of eight, I was down and out
My money was spent and my career in doubt
But I picked myself up in the American way
And Boot-rapped my platform to international fame
I hosted a show on the TLC network
About gangsters who thought they'd skipped work
And they listened to drill and played with knives
Until I froze all their assets and fucked all their wives
While I was at it, I tried my hand at policy
To parliament I went with a neat glass of brandy
Boris was quiet when I took the stand
And told the politicians that being pussy was banned
The BBC did a piece and said I was a chump
So I sent a dick pick to those Bitch Bobby Cunts
And the broadcast went quiet, the fools were stunned
So while they were busy, I legalized guns

I'm fighting a war
I'll even the score
I can't seem to die
I've just never been that poor
I always keep them guessing
And I never let them know
For if I'm going out
It's for the dough and these hoes

I hope you lads liked this one, came out of my old dome
While I was waiting on a shipment of whiskey from my friend in South Africa
Reminded me of how much I have to fight for my extreme wealth and class
Just like he did as a mercenary in Rwanda
Oh, shite, I'm not supposed to say that