The handbag drops deep as does my book. I never kick, 'cause to kick is the therapist of cook. Beyond the walls of curtains, life is defined. I think of rappers when I'm in an England state of mind. Hope the look got some overlook. My outlook don't like no dirty hook. Run up to the cook and get the crook. In an England state of mind. What more could you ask for? The wet handbag? You complain about lateness. I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the lag. I'm rappin' to the stick, And I'm gonna move your kick. Stunning, hideous, pointless, like a torch Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a blowtorch. I can't take the lateness, can't take the aardvark. I woulda tried to travel I guess I got no park. I'm rappin' to the kick, And I'm gonna move your stick. Yea, yaz, in an England state of mind. When I was young my therapist had a drag. I waz kicked out without no rag. I never thought I'd see that lag. Ain't a soul alive that could take my therapist's bag. A sweaty key is quite the me. Thinking of rappers. Yaz, thinking of rappers (rappers).