Delusions of Ganja

School for a fatboy always was a nightmare
They couldn't find my size, so they stuffed me in a tight pair
The ass split on sports day when I went down in the blocks
So they put me in a frilly skirt with knee-high socks

Dressed like that, son, you must be a gayboy
You should check the mirror, sir, before you diss a playboy
I could have a woman, coz women like winners
But girls wind me up when they don't know Linux

I just see a boy son, let's see if you can play
He tries to take a swing, but I've gone the other way
Now I don't like violence but I don't like punks
And I've been watching DVD's of Shaolin monks

How can you just tell me that I eat too many pies
When at Sunday school they tell us all to not tell lies
Maybe you should stop and think before you speak
Coz I go to Sunday school every other week.

I know you're fat, but you've got skills. You've got skills. You've got skills.
I know you're fat, but you've got skills. You've got skills. You've got skills.
I know you're fat, but you've got skills. You've got skills. You've got skills.
I know you're fat, but you've got skills. You've got skills. You've got skills.

Ever since I was a lad I always wanna be a rapper
But I can't get a deal so I go on X-Factor
Got a porkpie hat on coz I know it looks street
No laces in my shoes coz I can't reach my feet

Sharon's being nice, says I might not look right
Simon never passed up on the chance to get a sound bite
He winks to his left at the bird that he's screwing
Says "If you've got a surgeon, you should think about suing"

I aint fat, Simon, I'm just big boned
And I'll say this quick coz your mother just phoned
Hail master Louis when the turntable's spinning
He knows about rap coz he was there at the beginning

Says I might not be a brother but I know what sounds good
I was in the car when they shot Tim Westwood
R. E. S. P. E. K. spells:
I know you're fat, but you've got skills

I know you're fat, but you've got skills. You've got skills. You've got skills.
I know you're fat, but you've got skills. You've got skills. You've got skills.
I know you're fat, but you've got skills. You've got skills. You've got skills.
I know you're fat, but you've got skills. You've got skills. You've got skills.

You've got the skills, oh you've got the skills
You've got the skills, oh but you're fat

What's that now, I'm too fat to fly a fighter?
I'd be top gun if I was 10 stone lighter
They laughed when I said I had a place at Miramar
We'll land you in a jumbo if it makes it that far

I rock up in drag with my stockings and suspenders
Coz I've seen the film and I know that they're all benders
I'd make you my woman, but I really should be flyin'
I said "Bullshit, sergeant! You can be mine!"

You had me pretty fooled coz you smelt to fragrant
But you're a big lad for a double O agent
My doctor said the same when I last dropped by
He said "Frankly Mr Bond, I expect you to die"

But I aint got the time to hang around with queenies
You can't even rustle up a vodka Martini
Go join your buddies, son, and wrestle on the floor
Step aside lads, there's room for one more

I know you're fat, but you've got skills. You've got skills. You've got skills.
I know you're fat, but you've got skills. You've got skills. You've got skills.
I know you're fat, but you've got skills. You've got skills. You've got skills.
I know you're fat, but you've got skills. You've got skills. You've got skills.

I know you're fat, but you've got skills. So quit your neckin' them weight-loss pills