Flipside speaks
It's a banner for the TV picks
Ya get the ready daytime sheets
And the answers blow a horn beep beep
Flipside speaks
Higher living is a cotton sheet
I be Egyptian wanting key-in suite
She wants some weed
He's got some real good stock, worthwhile
Graham Coxon looks like a left-wing Boris Johnson
The fields are breathing in
It's a world that you see
Slim to breathe in
Don't sweat, cheat me
Make sense of what
Don't sweat cheap shit
Make sense of what
Don't sweat cheap shit
Make sense of what
Flipside speaks
It's the Hammer of the Gods, my arse
More like the broken seats I'm playing
Lots of thoughtful music in the artist park
Flipside speaks
It's got the UK slobs throwing out
Their root
For snakes to book Clementine
On the stage while we
Was up there too
If you think about it, it's quite bleak
The faculties ain't what they seem
Them razzie's went and ate
Their jeans well...
Don't sweat, cheat me
Make sense of what
Don't sweat cheap shit
Make sense of what
Don't sweat cheap shit
Make sense of what
(Flipside, flipside)
(Flipside)
Flipside speaks
It's attack on the pitch, fuck off
I can't believe he's come for Sleaford Mods
Little style biters hiding behind virtue staples
Only use, be less disco
On the round table
Weigh less, pay less
Take this crook, this crook
Let the music, jocks my shit up
Flipside speaks
It's a banner for the TV picks
Ya get the ready daytime sheets
And the answers blow a horn beep beep
Well just
Don't sweat, cheat me
Make sense of what
Don't sweat cheap shit
Make sense of what
Don't sweat cheap shit
Make sense of what
Make sense of what
Make sense of what
Make sense of what