Lyrics:
Britannic Fair game for the high command The brave ships sail alone, unarmed. No mercy in the filth of war The Hague convention's rotten core. Mines,
got bigger nails to nail I queue up outside, dark Britannic Mills, dark Britannic Mills New Model be a winner cos this battery won't keep going
Britannic My gang get em shook for his granite he panic I hang with the krooks and my people do damage
lies the real rock and sea As clouds rise over the old West Country An inside out world is all I perceive A surface without foundation The Britannic
the Telegraph, dear And we'll cheer for every brave Britannic Buccaneer We'll submit to the Leviathan, like all free-borns We'll be Eloi to the Murdocks while they
do it (I'mma love you, baby) Ready to make you smile all the days Baby I’m ready (I'mma love you, baby) I see my people from the hood Britannic that’s
the bitch is basic When it's pouring, better call it a rain check Big stepper cuz my slur is britannic I lost the plot on that bloke. Let's get it cracked
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