enticing bison on the can is a clue the brew is super
some cans have elks and lynxes, real mean floofers
that extra percent proof will make your mood super duper
the tipple’s like treacle, tastes kinda peculiar
Three Kings Food & Wine, more frugal than the boozer
smash & grab the fridges and raid it like a looter
or just peruse the booze to induce me in a stupor
have a butchers, choose a hooch that’ll get me proper moolered

to the one-man sofa party, we ain’t no party pooper
i assume the best position that excludes the kama sutra
the moonshine to soothe ya, improve you, brand newer
it’s rapture in a can, it’s the fucking future
soak it up with dumplings, or tuna free tuna
get friendly like “Jak sie masz”, or “how do you do, sir?”
a slew of these brews, chased by shooters
doing white Russians till i’m puking up Kahlua

indulge my self-indulgence while i play my whole oeuvre (humour me)
deep dive into my b-sides, get the bends like scuba
go running with Anna Karina through the Louvre
go falling down in slow-mo like i’m Hans Gruber
wanna get more truer, wanna get more uncouther
it’s like i’m in the library getting shushed by shooshers
heckling “who ’re ya?” like a noise polluter
in the fashion of John Fashanu hollering “Awooga!”

i’m a blundering palooka, making boo boos and bloopers
am i the asshole, here? like Starship Troopers
lying naked on the floor, more torn than Natalie Imbruglia
my baby, i’m a loser, slacker hobo producer
getting ruder than the lady bots DMing my computer
horn of a narwhale, white flab of a beluga
randier than a tabby cat that ha’n’t been neutered
it’s the effect of the Lynx that is sometimes on my Zubr

[Dexter Sozay verse]

got too clobbered to even book an Uber
courting danger like a vodka sesh with Lex Luger
eyes glazed oover, smirking like a Henry Hoover
progressively loonier, like, “it was ooba dooba”
it’s the juice to move ya, and i truly am a groover
my limbs get looser, they do handsome manoeuvres
i juice it up in Norton, “are you going down the Juicer?”
feeling nostalgia for subwoofers in Subarus

(it’s like) a gold digger likes her daddy with sugar
(it’s like) a toy boy likes scratches from a cougar
(it’s like) an impressionable student to a questionable tutor
Audrey Horne in a hotel room with Agent Dale Cooper
i’m up all night like i’m pursued by Krueger
setting Home Alone traps for house invaders & intruders (ooga booga)
i’m “like a boss", M. Bison, Lex Luther
“abracadabra”, i’m a chupafuckingcabra