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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
This is my singing voice It could make the angels weep Soothing and sweet Could make a can of Red Bull fall asleep I look at Duffy I could take her in a fight But not that Beth Ditto Because she looks like she might bite 'Cause I sing like this... But I talk like this Yeah, I really do I don't care You what? I'm a pop star? Cor blimey, would you Adam and Eve it? That's fucking mental I've only got one pair of shoes And I eat with my hands I ain't a diva; I ain't got a clue about nothing Verse two, what? Me? Now? I gotta sing verse two? All right then Every day I thank the Lord For what the Brit school taught me Embrace your Chav like Lily does And don't end up like Amy So if you see me Interviewed on T4 Don't be surprised if I'm Talking like an East-end whore 'Cause I sing like this... But I talk like this It's like LOVELY APPLES AND PEARS LOVELY APPLES AND PEARS Two pounds a pound Standard! Standard! On me 'ed, son Hello Pat, hello Frank Cor blimey, Governor I had a blinding ruby down the old Ken Road Boiler packed in, 'as it? That's what you get if you pay Polish prices Where you off to, then? You going up west? Oh, give us a lift Oh, I never been in a car |