I desember 2009 utspant det seg et julebord for Oslo-baserte Rovers-fans på den sjarmerende puben O´Reilly´s. Som seg hør og bør på julebord ble det også vartet opp med en quiz, hvor siste og avgjørende spørsmål var en kreativ oppgave. Her stakk jeg på ufint vis, og mot alle odds, av med seieren, etter å ha skrevet en Burnley-diss-rap og bestukket Gunnar med Fernet (full story i Uncle Jack´s # 2 2009/10, side 28).

Sterkt oppglødd etter å ha sett Rovers slå Burnley 1-0, sammen med andre Rovers-diehards på samme vannhull som åstedet for julebordet, skrev jeg noen nye vers, og spilte inn shiten under noe påvirkning av forkjølelse og et par øl.

Synden kan lyttes til og lastes ned på følgende adresse (jeg vil anbefale å laste den ned og benytte Winamp, iTunes e.l for bedre lydkvalitet enn streamingen)

http://www18.zippyshare.com/v/50544241/file.html

KEEP IT REAL.

/Henrik, eller "SchizoHenrik", som jeg nå velger å kalle meg.

LYRICS:

Sacrifice
To some, it´s just a word
To others, it is a code
What matters is the colony
He´s willing to live for the colony
To fight for the colony, to die for the colony

BRSCN.com representing

Burnley bastards

Burnley´s shite
So´s (are) their inbred fans
The whole town centre
Full of caravans

David Dunn beat ´em singlehanded(ly)
The Rovers emblem on his chest, it´s branded
Dunn is straight
And Burnley´s gay

Let´s say again, no never fuckin´ nay
Six bananas and seven fingers
All the Burnley girls
Are total mingers

I´d rather die
Than play for Burnley
That´s why I (wrongly) say
No never fuckin´ nay

I was keepin it real with some Blackburn fans
Then suddenly we saw a shitload of caravans
Niggas looked ugly, like retards on dope
Smelled like they´ve never ever used a fukking soap

They ate bananas, started fucking each other
The uncle fucked his nephew and the sister fucked her brother
It was well gross and I felt real sick
When I saw Brian Jensen suckin´ on Chris Eagles´ dick

Bitches like you, I can´t figure out where you´re from
Are you from Wigan, Bolton, Blackpool or Preston?
Wait, you´ve got six fingers, connected to each palm
I´d like to connect your face and some napalm

Oh shieet they´re from Turf Moor, they´re from Burn-lay
That´s why I fucking say no never fucking nay
Inbred, ugly, fucking lowlife scum
I beat your ugly mugs like I was playing on a drum

Smashing up their own town centre, tearing up their own shit
So fuck every single person that you´re down with

I laughed like a madman when Owen Coyle left ya
He ain´t no Judas he´s more like a Messiah
I woke up this morning, I got myself a gun
Gonna shoot down every fucking single Burnley scum

hahaha

den var rå! bra jobba!

Sorry, men det var elendig rapping.

Haha, det er jeg fullstendig klar over. Trodde det var rimelig åpenlyst at det var humoren som var i høysetet her ,)

Han kaller seg "matsemann" så ikke ta det så veldig seriøst;) Morsom tekst!=)

Haha, konge! :) Thumbs up!

Stepou- skrev:

Han kaller seg "matsemann" så ikke ta det så veldig seriøst;) Morsom tekst!=)

 LOL, ta deg en bolle!

Du må leie inn Dioufs livvakter hvis du noen gang setter dine bein i Burnley! Jeg har selvsagt lastet sangen inn på ipoden. Veldig gøy! Du må legge sangen ut på forumene i England. Hva er det neste? Musikkvideo? Location: O´Reilleys?

classic, bra tiltak! ikke snoop enda men det kommer:)

It was well gross and I felt real sick
When I saw Brian Jensen suckin´ on Chris Eagles´ dick

et av mange høydepunkt:)

Takker for feedback! Dioufs livvakter kommer til å stå parate neste gang jeg beveger meg i Burnley og omegn, Peder.

Ny sang oppe, denne gangen er det lagets svakeste ledd - sentral midtbane - som er det lyriske temaet. Rent musikalsk har jeg naturligvis gjort en futuristisk, robot-aktig vri på det hele. Kan trøste massene med at dette sannsynligvis er den siste Rovers-relaterte sangen jeg kommer til å lage på en stund.

Tekst:

Big Sam, listen up
Your prime objective is to go to the shop
And buy a midfielder that can pass and shoot
Do you compute?

One up at Molineux - and things look swell
Bastürk put the Wolves - under his spell
Spreading passes - all over the pitch
He´s from Turkey - and he is fucking rich

Keith on the other hand - is doing fuck all
OK, he hit the post - but can´t control a ball
He´s mostly been a miss - seldom a hit
Many claim - that Andrews is a bit shit

If Reid were a horse - he´d been put to rest
Sell him for a penny - that´s all I can suggest
We´re really missing Savage and a bit of Tugay flair
We need a midfielder with beautiful hair

(Big Sam, fuckin´ sort it out before it´s too late
Next verse coming up, do you compute? Roger, out)

Calling Big Sam
Time to devise a master plan
Our central midfield´s crying out for reinforcement(s)
It´s time to show - a statement of intent (x2)

Michel Salgado - is the best man playing
In the current squad - if you-know what I´m saying
Looks like a mixture - of Rambo and Tugay
passes the ball to N Z O N Z I

Who then receives the ball and plays it backwards
No wonder why he gets all these man of the match awards
His friend Linganzi came from St. Etienne
Gonna be the next fuckin´ Michael Essien

But not now, it´s too early I tell ya
Almost forgot - to mention Vincent Grella
The man is made of glass - plays 1 game outta 10
Our midfield is in need - of a few good men

Big Sam, listen up
Your prime objective is to go to the shop
And buy a midfielder that can pass and shoot
Do you compute? (x2)

Calling Big Sam
Time to.. devise a master plan
Our midfield.. crying out for reinforcement(s)
Time to show.. A statement of intent
Sort it out, Big Sam
Please devise a master plan