Lyrics Sleaford Mods

Sleaford Mods

Bunch Of Cunts

Bunch of cunts

Bunch of

Bunch of absolute cunts bang-banging

The flicker, the fruit machine

A tooth for one

You can pay the finest check

Scare it

Fresh leaves, morning petrol

And sweet days as Hansel and Gretel

Each to walk in the ...

Lost souls in the big notorious

And they're f**kin' everywhere mate

Boo box, urban toss

The ghost of the beaming light through the fog

Beat box

Bunch of cunts

Bunch of cunts

Bunch of cunts

Bunch of cunts

I'll be beyond the speaker

In the jungle

The mighty jungle

So I better the benefit from him

I got 4 tapes

One quick

Load this and more

We get split

Sea side resort

The screaming crowd

I sound like I got some paper mind

Torture me thick

Come an angel delight

Angel delight

Bunch of cunts

Bunch of cunts

Bunch of cunts

Bunch of cunts

Won't you slow down?

Won't you slow down?

Won't you slow down?

Won't you slow down?

Just like that