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There's vomit on her sweater already, mom's bruchetti
She's nervous, but on the surface she looks calm and ready
To drop houses, but tennants keep on lettin'
What she wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud
She opens her mouth, but the sense won't come out
She's chokin', how, everybody's Labour' now
The clocks run out, times up, over, blaow!
Snap back to reality, oh there goes gravity
Oh, there goes Corbyn, he choked
He's so mad, but he won't give up that easy? No
He won't have it, he knows his whole back city's ropes
It don't matter, he's dope, he knows that, but he's broke
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