Mood Swings

by Stig Of The Dump

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about

Click on track titles for individual downloads @ 79p.

credits

released October 11, 2010

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Stig Of The Dump London

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Track Name: I Got Game
Fuck Street Fighter I got game/
With skills to burn a rapper up in white hot flames/
Increase the heat until you start to perspire/
Breath in let the beat drop its nothing but/ "FIRE"


I bring heat like an arsonist/
To concepts, stories or bars of retardedness/
My whole attitudes FUCK YOU/
So if you don’t know my problem your probably part of it/
Suave ass narcissist im the top boy/
Self taught you cant learn the art from a starter kit/
Tell me who reps hard as this/
NO ONE im fatter than a wideboy marker tip/
And that aint the half of it/
EOW world champ is sommet you cant argue with/
Heavy weights cant spar with stig/
cos I will end your career with E’s like brian Harvey did/
spark the piff let it coirculate my system/
Then spaz out like the riots in Brixton/
Big up all the real heads from London to Brisbane/
The rest of you fuckers can ride my diction/

Fuck Street Fighter I got game/
With skills to burn a rapper up in white hot flames/
Increase the heat until you start to perspire/
Breath in let the beat drop its nothing but/ "FIRE"

Sick flow schitzo, pissed living in diss mode/
Live wire bringing hell fire & brimstone/
I rip shows, from the suburbs to skid row/
On much bigger beats than you've gotten from your big bro/
Me & the mic connect like fists to wrist bones /
And cause more "Organized Konfusion" than Prince Po/
Think you're bigger than this?? Let me chin stroke/
Hmmmmmm?... I DON'T THINK SO/
Its all gravy, mash tatties & roast beef
Black cabs, battle raps & no sleep/
British shit like fat yatties with broke teeth/
And visits to the chippy keep the fat man obese/
You never seen a rep thats so deep/
You dont even get respect from your own peeps
Wanna know your copping quality??/
Then check the F.U motif, etched in gold leaf/

Fuck Street Fighter I got game/
With skills to burn a rapper up in white hot flames/
Increase the heat until you start to perspire/
Breath in let the beat drop its nothing but/

Guess whos back in the mother fucking yard/
Constantly fogging bongs or chugging jars/
Tryna convince myself that im a star/
Out of it shouting “Tarahtid Bumbaclaat”/
& I don’t even know what that means/
Im just a loser who happens to be a rap fiend/
So fuck tryna fit in with a wack scene/
Where everybody dresses like an advert for gap jeans/
And if that seems ignorant/
Make complaints via 0800 I don’t give a shit/
I make Fuck You music/
You don’t like it cool, fuck you don’t listen bitch/
You see im in it for the jokes/
& ive been in it for a minute so quick with the killer quotes/
You're in it for the image you idiots think you're dope/
But i'm a bigger lyricist equipped with the sicker flows/
Track Name: Back
Its time to take it back like a bailiff/
Back to the days of the dj’s and breaking/
So pin ya pin ya ears back like face lift/
Cos im back with an old school track for ya playlist/
x2

I'll come mood swinging through your city/
With a hundred man army of screwed up bruisers cruising with me/
Don't ever fuck with my music i'm too gritty/
'Til i sell my soul for a couple beers and a few ciggies/
If you do see me, move your ass/
Shut your mouth & keep schtum or get ya whole camp boobie trapped/
You don't want to see me lose my rag/
Cos the shit will hit the fan like coprophila with groupie slags/
See im the mother fucking peoples champ/
Immature, never growing up like i'm Peter Pan/
I put in more Dirty Work than Steely Dan
To make sure my records keep spinning like a ceiling fan/
I'm the reason that your favourite rappers get afraid/
Like, "there's no way he made his EP in seven days"/
What's the matter you sound a little threatened mate/
Maybe you should put the mic down and slowly step away

Its time to take it back like a bailiff/
Back to the days of the dj’s and breaking/
So pin ya pin ya ears back like face lift/
Cos im back with an old school track for ya playlist/
x2

Im a black sheep, bad seed, all round scruffy clown/
Speak in simple terms so theres no need to dumb it down/
"Lazy" but don’t fuck around rushing crowds/
So hold ya tongue and keep my name out ya fucking mouth/
Sick of all these muppets always giving me the run around?
"Broke ass" always on the scrounge for a couple pound/
"No cash" known for rocking towns with my rugged sound/
Staying dirty on tracks like London underground/
You people just found the only real rapper left/
Dope like the smoke that they smuggle in from Marakesh/
Disgusting like the fat man having sex/
Shut ya track, turn the track up and snap ya neck/
"Yeaaaah", now i'm back with the shenanigans/
I pack flavour like fat bag o brannigans/
Arrogant? nah ya must be missing the joke/
But if your hating catch a dick in ya throat/
Its too easy.
Track Name: What's Up? (25/8)
Wake up, hustle, eat then sleep
25 hours, 8 days of the week
Hell bent on again ahead man
“Whats up” nothing but the rent fam.
X2

They say there’s no rest for the wicked/
I guess that explains the work it takes just to make my next meal ticket/
Shits hard, no need to be specific/
We all got our struggles and we all gotta deal with it/
Real lyrics, real talk, real hard graft/
We all fiend for things that we cant have/
For me it ‘aint the car & the large pad/
Just a little light at the end of this dark path/
My Flag set at half mast for the fallen/
Who failed to stay strong and keep in touch with their calling/
Nothing in life is a sure thing.
Wait for ya chance then double up, all in/
When ya chips are down don’t back out/
Keep poker faced, bluff hard, work flat out/
Never back down, keep pushing forward/
Every great mind is tortured its all good/
When one door shuts another opens up/
Set goals, keep focused the road is tuff/
Quitting’s easy, trust I’ve come close enough/
Look deep within, stay true, let ya soul erupt/

Wake up, hustle, eat then sleep
25 hours, 8 days of the week
Hell bent on again ahead man
“Whats up” nothing but the rent fam.
X2

No time to sit n chill, i keep spitting til’/
The next pay cheque will help me wrestle with these frigging bills/
Pockets empty, fridge isn’t filled/
I see the bigger picture no time for the little thrills/
The mission still incomplete/
Ten years deep yet its still in its infancy/
And yeah I’ve lost faith in the industry/
But fame is a fools goal. it doesn’t mean a thing to me/
Self sufficiency the first target to meet/
That’s why I take stock at the start of the week/
Never satisfied with tracks but that’s the artist in me/
So fuck a manager, a major and a marketing scheme/
Its all grass roots, not perfect that’s true/
but im in it for the love not to stack loot/
I don’t care what you other cats do/
That’s you, me and mine grind for the last few/
Real heads who love the art properly/
Cats who fiend for music and hate the monotony/
If you wanna get rich play the lottery/
I work hard that’s how its gotta be/

Wake up, hustle, eat then sleep
25 hours, 8 days of the week
Hell bent on again ahead man
“Whats up” nothing but the rent fam.
X2

My eyes stay redder than my letters are/
Iron lungs help pump black ink with a metal heart/
Grey matters got a slacker penning better bars/
Destined to win there’s, no need for ya question marks/
Its hard to tell apart the sly amongst us/
While trying to figure out the game like Micheal Douglas/
I blow smoke into the sky for the hustlers/
Trust us there’s no Justice its just us/
Nuff young bucks try and rap/
Grow up get jobs and quit rapping now why is that/
I wont lose sight in a fight for cash/
No going back like a virgin, after her hymen snaps/
And yeah I love when I go on tour/
But It’s a double edged sword when there’s no support/
Trying to stay afloat as life goes overboard/
That’s why I play fiddle, sign on, show no remorse/
You gotta keep up the bravado/
‘Cos most nights I sit and think that i can’t cope/
From the gutter keep your eyes on the stars/
‘Cos your only as good as ya last show/
Track Name: U Want Some ft. Naim
Call me Charlie big potato’s with a chip on his shoulder/
Spitting venom while im swigging a cobra/
Listen you jokers im a slave to the mic/
But got the swagger of a blagger so I say what I like/
Like What, like fuck every rapper but me/
There all a bunch of cunts and im the best in the country/
I got so much flavour that its making me hungry/
Nah, why am I lying I just baked with munchies/
Read my lips im a piece of shit/
Sniffing the thin lunatic and genius/
But you don’t wanna see me switch/
Cos Ill will beat a bitch without even knowing what the reason is/
Believe me kids im a bonafide nut job/
Type you see drinking cider at an over night bus stop/
Nice guy, but when I hold the mic i'm not/
So if you got a problem with me homie you can fuck off/
I kick bummy raps, sonny i'm a funny chap/
But i can be a cunny flap, like "where's my fucking money at"/
Grubby twat, loving living in a scummy flat/
With so much attitude you'd think that tummy fat was coming back/
You other cats talk on what you say you saw/
Don't ever judge me, im way too raw/
On beats that are bigger enough to break through walls/
I know you hate me, guess what? I hate you more

Hook

Stevie Dickhead the pisshead back in the mix/
Wasting paper getting wasted fuck stacking the chips/
Im a waster with a weight that’ll flatten you pricks/
And I cant wait to use the boot to leave a crack in ya ribs/
“Ouch” and yeah it feels real good/
Don’t hate me cos im doin what your wishing you could
Call me out, shit I wish you idiots would
Rocking Anoracks bitches, now im big in the hood
Mean mugging with a screw face
Dying to let you muppets know how my shoe’s taste
None of you suckers are moving at my crews pace
Its too late, sonny im running the fucking UK
Infact scratch that im walking it
Playing the comedy drunk more than jack Norton did
I used to love the scene but nower days im bored of it
So you can keep it real, while I just keep talking shit
And i'll still make moves/
The games full of mugs but i'll still break through/
Heads claim they're better but it still aint true/
You can get better but i'll still hate you/
So just stop and stare/
See i'll always stand out from the cot to the rocking chair/
I got no competition like Solitaire/
So if i'm not your favourite rapper then im probably theirs.

Hook
Track Name: Give It Up ft. Dr Syntax & King Kaiow
Verse 1 (Stig Of The Dump)
See me in the dance with a swagger and a crooked eye/
Tapping fat chicks like “what’s up sugar pie”/
She might be leaving with another guy
I bet she still puts her lips around my dick and sucks the fucker dry/
And here’s sommet you can quote bitch/
Im sexiest the fat man in show biz/
just in case you didn’t notice/
Im the god damn king with the mic in a closed fist/
Oh shit, get word to the dj/
Tell him to put my record on replay/
Attitudes my middle name like B.A/
So fuck the security im getting this weed blazed/
And if I got my eye on a broad.
You know she aint flat like an ironing board/
Ass like "bang", tits like "pow"/
Gut like "urgh" and im dying to score/

Hook x2

"Give It Up", yeah put the mic down/
"Give It Up", quit mean mugging/
"Give It Up", gimmie that cash/
"Give It Up", now gimmie that gash/

Verse 2 (Dr Syntax)
"Who's surpassing this?"
Come on those plans are hopeless/
Everything i jot down's like my magnum opus/
Much more than the bland and soulless/
With a set thats sharper than ya Pentax camera focus/
So don't be acting bogus/
Like, tryna pretend that you hadn't noticed/
You need to show love, don't just roll up in the club/
And spend more time against the wall than the backs of posters"/
We got fans that are ravenous/
Gagging for some rappers of this caliber, they're acting nuts/
Its meltdown for you plastic amateurs/
Standard we pack more clubs than a caddy does/
Rowdier than Daryl Mac on drugs/
Downing rider beers topping up my natural buzz/
Now heres a brand you can trust, For a maximum rush/
Were like mad man dust in your brandy cups/

Hook x2
"Give It Up", go dumb
"Give It Up", just spazz the fuck out
"Give It Up", stop smoking
"Give It Up", let me touch you

Verse 3 (King Kaiow)
Hi, my dick is enormous/
So big its got its own dick and its still bigger than yours is/
King Kai, im spitting on paupers/
I'm stupid def, i got riggamamortis/
"get it?" or did you try to correct it/
Kai's on some next shit, You guys are pathetic
It should be obvious bloodrin/
I drop dope shit like drug mules who got through customs/
Watch me buck trends, rapping from left field/
Man im a dan i get rare skills/
and im flash i got bare grills/
Im smacking a bear's grill, while chatting to Bear Grylls/
"Yeeah" only go clubs to stare/
Step on toes & claim everything's air/
I've lost all my sense, lost my direction/
But gotta dark side like a chocolate digestive/

Hook x2
"Give It Up", props to the king
"Give It Up", everything from your gwop to your rings
"Give It Up", your socks and your Timbs
"Give It Up", and everything that you've got in your fridge

Cuts to end by DJ Manipulate.
Track Name: Hater
Hate life, hate rap, hate white, hate black/
Hate love, love hate, I think im gonna lose it/
Hate rappers, hate beats, hate tryna make peace/
With all you fake fucks but i got love for the music/
Hate me ? I hate you, I hate tryna break through/
I Love being better but I hate having to prove it/
I Hate when you mother fuckers hate on my tracks/
But im fuelled by the hate, so its time for the new shit/

I Hate every thing ive ever done, every thing i’ve ever said/
I Hate it when your hated, when simply tryna get ahead/
Hate the fact so many wack rappers are still getting press/
And hate the fact that their rich while im busy tryna settle debts/
I hate being slowly overpowered by my violent side/
And hate the fact I need to feel the hate to know that im alive/
Hate the music industry, hate being broke/
But no where near as much I hated working a 9 to 5/
Diamond white helps to numb the pain/
But hate has a nack of getting back at you in other ways/
I hate seeing worry in mothers face/
Cos the life I lead has got me heading straight for a muddy grave/
Its an ugly game, that breeds depravity/
So many lust the fame, while I fiend for some clarity/
Rapidly losing sanity, under the sword of Damocles/
Fighting to not be consumed by the fucking hate/

Hate life, hate rap, hate white, hate black/
Hate love, love hate, I think im gonna lose it/
Hate rappers, hate beats, hate tryna make peace/
With all you fake fucks but i got love for the music/
Hate me ? I hate you, I hate tryna break through/
I Love being better but I hate having to prove it/
I Hate when you mother fuckers hate on my tracks/
But im fuelled by the hate, so its time for the new shit/


I hated being an outsider as little kid/
But now as an adult I hate nothing more than fitting in/
I hate the dishes sitting stinking in my kitchen sink/
but love looking bummy while these mother fuckers drip in bling/
I love getting drunk but hate the hangovers/
If im honest sometimes I hate being sober/
Love playing the joker, love being ignorant
But hate it when Im serious and heads aren’t as into it/
I love sleeping in and not having a day job/
But hate waking up to find out half my days gone/
I hate that my tempers so short when the days long/
And hate it when I hate myself and people say to stay strong/
I hate the fact their right as well/
And hate my suicide attempt being seen as a cry for help/
They say misery loves company/ Yeah?
Well I guess that explains why I hate being by myself/

Hate life, hate rap, hate white, hate black/
Hate love, love hate, I think im gonna lose it/
Hate rappers, hate beats, hate tryna make peace/
With all you fake fucks but i got love for the music/
Hate me ? I hate you, I hate tryna break through/
I Love being better but I hate having to prove it/
I Hate when you mother fuckers hate on my tracks/
But im fuelled by the hate, so its time for the new shit/

I hate my doctor, my chemist and hate my therapist/
Hate the fact I blame everyone else for temperament/
I hate my ex for ever making me a mentalist/
And if your listening I hate you even being mentioned bitch/
And yeah I hated claiming benefits/
But loved spending half of my giro getting wrecked on sedatives/
And yeah I hate living where the weathers shit/
But if I moved away im sure in time I get depressed with it/
And yeah I hate being a pessimist/
But im positive ill never stop obsessing with the negative
And no I wont ever quit/
Cos that’ll just make room for the rest of you generic pricks/
I'm sure you guessed it, I hate phoney thugs/
And hate it being seen as weakness when you open up/
The fact ive lasted this long is a stroke of luck/
Every day I edge closer to going nuts/
Track Name: Wind The Clock
Hook:
"Its just a slow day, moving into a slow night/
It doesn't matter what you do" x 4

Ay yo, you hate me?, cool, i fucking hate me too/
Regretting everything my brainwaves ever made me do/
They say i'm crazy, you know what?, it may be true/
So i curse the first person that gave me booze/
'Cause its a habit now, I can see my life mapping out/
Headed for the battle ground like "I ain't ever backing down"/
Even gagged & bound, i'll throw fists that smash your face/
Cheating death by breaking both wrists on the hands of fate/
I live in a world of acid rain & rancid greys/
Swigging back Jack Daniels just to dampen the pain/
And now i'm at it again, riddled with self pity/
I need a vacation just to escape from Sin City/
My shits gritty but still all of it true/
Now i smash recording booths from the floor to the roof/
And use my current situation as some sort of excuse/
To hide the fact that im torn through, from the core to the root/
I asked the Lord for a clue, to show me where im mucking up/
Dumb struck from being ignored just like a fucking mug/
I tell myself he must be busy with some other stuff
Puffing drugs, telling my people that there's nothing up

Hook:
"Its just a slow day, moving into a slow night/
It doesn't matter what you do" x 4

This isn't battle raps, its me just being honest bitch/
You wouldn't understand unless you've felt like you dont want to live/
I'm here showing you exactly what rock bottom is/
Fucked up like bushes attitude to foreign politics/
You'll know i've got to spit, if you've ever felt the pain/
Of self loathing, broken, hoping that there's someone else to blame/
But in the cold light of day i see it clearly/
Alone in a crowd, i open my mouth but no one hears me/
I don't care if you fear me, its better than being unseen/
Every day failing to attain one of my dumb dreams/
So now i come clean like i've had a vasectomy/
Not here to be liked but prick you will show respect to me/
Or else i'll beat you expending energy left in me/
If ignorance is bliss then most heads are living in ecstasy/
I live with the agony of truth like it was meant to be/
And stick grenade pins in effigies that resemble me/
I tried to fix up, but doubt that i can/
So then i tried to drown myself inside the fountain of man/
Or sit smoking with petrol leaking out of a can/
So when my time comes i'm high & going out with a bang

Hook:
"Its just a slow day, moving into a slow night/
It doesn't matter what you do" x 4
Track Name: Big City Blues
As i walk through a maze of the city's coldest buildings/
She starts singin a song to her forgotten homeless children/
A lullaby full of car alarms and sirens/
In a city that never sleeps, where streets are never silent/
Where night life's vibrant and rife with trouble/
As the bricks breath heavy as if theyre ready to crumble/
The walls may have ears but nobody else is listening/
As the beast prowel freely to steal their next victim/
Faces fade and disappeared into the distance/
Drug abusers lose to the pressures of existence/
Resistance is futile, there's nothing to do/
In the end we all suffer from big city blues/
And so theres crews of dudes sitting sipping and sniffing/
Cos in the city sins are never forgotten and less forgiven/
When ya living in a world that's full of high rise dreams/
And the sound of passing traffic drowns out silent screams/
Ultra violent scenes, in a world thats clock work/
Where money oils the pockets that make the cogs turn/
Nocturnal workers burn their herbs after dark/
I take my place with the strays and serenade the stars/

SCRATCHED HOOK "Its economics............... can't stop it"

The big city, wear depressions generic/
It seems that inner city stress is a national epidemic/
Grey clouds loom until the towns silhouetted/
Where times are hard, nobody wants to let ya forget it/
Where street lamps battle with the dark of the night/
And street corner stars work and hustle in the twilight/
Lifetimes finite, so everyone meets defeat/
And battle scars are rapidly camoflaged by the concrete
A complete image of life in a snapshot/
Where innocence is lost into an inner city backdrop/
Cop shops are full up, but pockets are empty/
You want green your out of luck, but look for brown & there's plenty/
Rush hours a frenzy of 9 to 5ers/
An exodus of bodies, who's eyes are lifeless/
And everyone escape with a little bit of R.E.M
Until they wake and realise where they are again/
And your all part of them, cursed by the mind state/
Comatose midweek, alive on a friday/
I'm a modern man behind the eyes of a primate/
I still sing the big city blues but do it my way/

SCRATCHED HOOK "Its economics............... can't stop it"

No matter what your post code, your dresscode or age is/
Race, faith, your gender or family name is/
We all enter the matrix on a daily basis/
The situation stays the same and nothing ever changes/
City life is grim and strife is just part of the day to day/
Women paint their face and men shave with the latest razor blades/
Waiting for the weekend to come, so they can waste their pay/
Forgetting 'bout the routine they go through to make a wage/
Many blaze a jay, sedate and take away the pain/
Aching as their hope for change flickers like a naked flame /
Brains decay and motivation fades from the monotony/
As workers huddle home to the subtle tone of forgotton dreams/
Back to tv dinners and kipping in rotting properties/
Scared to break out 'cause passion isn't office policy/
Colonies of metal beasts face off in congestion/
As whordes of worker ants surge in ranks towards redemption/

SCRATCHED HOOK "Its economics............... can't stop it"
Track Name: Who's That? (Muddy Funkster)
Its Time for dirty, stinking, filthy, rotten, belligerent one/
Constantly dinking, no good, common as muck, ugly, ignorant cunt/
Your probably thinking fuck you, but then im a stick in the mud/
Nobody sicker than us Jehst, Manipulate, along side Stig Of The Dump/
You want a pop your in the wrong place/
Me I drop bars that are John Blaze/
Just one hot phrase and a songs Flambed/
Then its time for the........ bong break/
Eat the mic like an entree/
Fuck with me, then your in for a long day/
Think ill flop? your honestly wrong mate/
I wont stop rocking till ive gone grey hombre/
There’s One way my way or nada/
My way like Frank Sinatra/
My way like pass the lager/
Lets get battered and act like dicks/
My flows are all hot like lava/
That’s why I get more props than Rada/
Blowing up harder than bombs in Gaza/
Got the whole the globe like “that’s my shit"/
That’s right bitch/
Guess who’s back in the ring/
Way passed packin up cracking a tin/
With a bag of the piff a packet of ching/
I don’t care what you think/
Cos im too busy getting pissed/
So run your mouth you fucking clown/
you’ll only end up getting ripped/

SCTRACH HOOK
"Fuck You Mu'Fuckers/
I'm that Mu Fucker/
Errr time i drink im drunker than a Mu' Fucker"

Im kind of a big deal right now/
Gutter mouth no need for the high brow/
Flows are dope, I got a real tight sound/
You don’t want beef when you see me, pipe down/
Think your nice? You must like to pipe brown/
Ive had it with you guys tryna swipe at my crown/
Try hyping ill stand my ground/
Time for the fighting? right hand lights out/
I got the town on lock/ "LOCK"
Down for the cause while your out for the gwop/
Clowing you frauds with a mouthful of hot/
Lyrics that’ll kill it the second the beat drops/
We rock steady when steaming off bevy/
Believe your not ready, the scene just got deadly/
When Steven’s on set he is breeze block heavy/
So run your gums & get chopped to confetti/
Its all gravy & chips/
Keep hating & ill keep making the hits/
While you blatantly cater to kids/
Im amazingly sick & im taking the piss/
While your dreaming of making it rich/
Getting in the game for the fame & the chicks/
I got real heads raising a fist/
From murdering shows, ripping stages to bits/
Make way cause the name aint wasting a day/
Brainwaves stay blazing the biz/
Painstakingly slaving away, maintaining the same great place in the mix/
Never late for the rave, when im taking the stage/
Spit flames to the bass & the kicks/
Then im raising the stakes, lay claim to the breaks/
Take aim & the fakes & spit.. beeeyitch..

SCTRACH HOOK
"Fuck You Mu'Fuckers/
I'm that Mu Fucker/
Errr time i drink im drunker than a Mu' Fucker"

outro...
I'll be getting bevvied on the front line/
I'm never sober, i told you
l will be getting ready when its crunch time
I'm taking over, its over