Plastic Gangster
Now the story behind that
I’d be sacked today
There was a young guy
Their youngest guy
And he was the most mouthy
And annoying and that
‘Mr Mafia’
Only a young fella
But ‘Mr Mafia’
And his attitude was,
‘Rerr, you lot of phrar-rar-rar’
He’s gonna be the ‘Mr Mafia’ of Wellington
The head of the drug
The head, big, big tough guy
We were playing four square
And he had a beef
‘Cause I fuckin’ took the square or whatever
We’re in the middle of an open type of thing
With all the different gangs around
So, I says, “Ah yeah, in the toilets.”
You know
“Let’s have a go.”
And fuckin’
We walked over the toilets
And he had his arms like this
Little skinny guy
Fuckin’ arms out like that
And as we get closer
His arms slowly went down like this
And he turns around, goes,
“Ah nah, there’s screw coming.”
And I looked at the wall
Says, “No, there’s not,”
Fuckin’
And attacked him
Boob walking early morning
Oh the swagger
Oh the bling
He still be boob walking
With the sun setting on the West Wing
His body speaks
It says, “I show no mercy.”
With a front lat spread
Of his latissimus dorsi
He’s a plastic gangster
He’s a fake-ass figure
Ain’t got nothing with a trigger
He’s a plastic gangster
He’s a vacuumed brainer
He’s a Tupperware container
He’s a plastic gangster
Boob walker
Tough talker
You’re a thing of cartoons
‘Til someone pulls a shivvy
Gonna pop your balloons
And soon enough
You’ll find it’s true what they say
“Every baller gets bounced
By the end of the day.”
He’s a plastic gangster
Look a little felon
With his giant watermelons
He’s a plastic gangster
He’s a vacuumed brainer
He’s a Tupperware container
He’s a plastic gangster
Just one look you can tell
He’s a ball boy for the NZ NBL
He’s a plastic gangster
Could someone call his mama?
‘Cause he’s just a kaka fulla
He’s a plastic gangster
He’s a plastic gangster
Knows how to boob walk
He’s a plastic gangster
Knows how to shit-talk
He’s a plastic gangster
All cheese but no chalk
He’s a plastic gangster
Touting a fake name
He’s a plastic gangster
Bluffing a big game
He’s so plastic
Watch him melt under naked flame
He’s a plastic gangster.
He’s a fake-ass figure
Ain’t got nothing with a trigger
He’s a plastic gangster
He’s a vacuumed brainer
He’s a Tupperware container
He’s a plastic gangster
Look a little felon
With his giant watermelons
He’s a plastic gangster
Could someone call his mama?
‘Cause he’s just a kaka fulla
He’s a plastic gangster
I said, “I’ll, I’ll,
I’ll ‘Mr Mafia’ you,” I said
And I put him down in solitary confinement
And said, “You think about it here
Before you mix with my nice inmates.”
Each day I’d go in
And I’d say, “And how is Mr Mafia?”
“Hrrr, hrrr, hrrr.”
Come Friday, and he looked at me
“Eh, hey boss
Give us a break, will ya?”
Different voice
“Give us a break, will ya?”
I said, “Have you,
Have you finished with this ‘Mr Mafia’ idea?”
He said, “Yeah.”
I said, “Right, I’ll give you a break. Out you come.”