We Can Go by QELD Lyrics
[Verse 1: Bob Savage]
We're best dressed rappers, you're dead worst rappers
I'll Fred West rappers if they're Fred Durst rappers
Ain't guest verse rappers with barely good mixtapes
QELD rap until the proletariat dictates
Yo, it's no Death Cab For Cutie
Just Q E L D running Death Camps For Bougies
Uh, and you best pass it to me
If you're getting stoned off less than a zootie
El Proletaro, George Romero
Piff draws, score more than four Agueros
Ain't Fab, we're more Solero
You're ten a penny
We're Bob and Jenre, not Ben and Jerry
Dead and buried, No Gods or Masters
Black Bloc rap squad, All Cops Are Bastards
The have-nots slap scabs lots - fall off like plasters
Hate the state, pawnshops and blackshirts
[Verse 2: Jenre]
Coming to your village park, tearing down the bandstand
QELD leaves crowds worn out like Superman's pants
With more energy than nuclear power plants
Q E L D is more than just a crap scrabble hand
No Pasaran, call me El Capitan
Ahead of the game but no I'm no Sepp Blatter man
Hanham man! Anarchist without a plan
Less popular than Taliban in caravans
No cash advance, no chasing cheques
Q E L D ain't big enough to fake it yet
Or be hated yet
We're just two heads
That nobody really listens to like a tape cassette
Start placing bets cos we're the winners here
Soon as we taste success then we can disappear
Not from the city here
My mouth's a pistol shooting clips full of Bristol in your ear
[Verse 3: Jenre & Bob Savage]
Most vocal critics, both total cynics
No social misfits, so socialistic
Kick in your door, this is no social visit
Dragged kicking and screaming like emo vocalist kids
We can go so ballistic, or we can go turtle pace
We can go circulate pamphlets with circled-A's
Blaze purple haze, get your workmates to play it
Insurrectionary rap, Sergei Nechayev
...but no wackass cunts
So don't try this at home like Jackass stunts
Now pass that blunt to shop steward Bobby Sobotka
Molotov topped off with a bottle of vodka
Now whose beats popping off? It's gotta be Jenre
We can go off on a wander
Or we can go like chronic absconders
We can go for your politicians, bosses and mobsters
Kush Zombies plotting to demolish you monsters
We're best dressed rappers, you're dead worst rappers
I'll Fred West rappers if they're Fred Durst rappers
Ain't guest verse rappers with barely good mixtapes
QELD rap until the proletariat dictates
Yo, it's no Death Cab For Cutie
Just Q E L D running Death Camps For Bougies
Uh, and you best pass it to me
If you're getting stoned off less than a zootie
El Proletaro, George Romero
Piff draws, score more than four Agueros
Ain't Fab, we're more Solero
You're ten a penny
We're Bob and Jenre, not Ben and Jerry
Dead and buried, No Gods or Masters
Black Bloc rap squad, All Cops Are Bastards
The have-nots slap scabs lots - fall off like plasters
Hate the state, pawnshops and blackshirts
[Verse 2: Jenre]
Coming to your village park, tearing down the bandstand
QELD leaves crowds worn out like Superman's pants
With more energy than nuclear power plants
Q E L D is more than just a crap scrabble hand
No Pasaran, call me El Capitan
Ahead of the game but no I'm no Sepp Blatter man
Hanham man! Anarchist without a plan
Less popular than Taliban in caravans
No cash advance, no chasing cheques
Q E L D ain't big enough to fake it yet
Or be hated yet
We're just two heads
That nobody really listens to like a tape cassette
Start placing bets cos we're the winners here
Soon as we taste success then we can disappear
Not from the city here
My mouth's a pistol shooting clips full of Bristol in your ear
[Verse 3: Jenre & Bob Savage]
Most vocal critics, both total cynics
No social misfits, so socialistic
Kick in your door, this is no social visit
Dragged kicking and screaming like emo vocalist kids
We can go so ballistic, or we can go turtle pace
We can go circulate pamphlets with circled-A's
Blaze purple haze, get your workmates to play it
Insurrectionary rap, Sergei Nechayev
...but no wackass cunts
So don't try this at home like Jackass stunts
Now pass that blunt to shop steward Bobby Sobotka
Molotov topped off with a bottle of vodka
Now whose beats popping off? It's gotta be Jenre
We can go off on a wander
Or we can go like chronic absconders
We can go for your politicians, bosses and mobsters
Kush Zombies plotting to demolish you monsters