Robin Hood vs. Guy Fawkes - Freshy Kanal ft. LittleFlecks, The Stupendium, Shwabadi, Breeton Boi, BassedOlaf, Marshall Lawless, AfroLegacy, CosFia, Connor Quest!, Dan Bull

Many men speak of Robin Hood

But they don't got his flow

While you were panicking, dillydallying under the throne

I'd be hijacking into the palace to plunder the gold

And then get back on my stallion galloping to Papplewick

Refunding the broke with the money that the monarchy stole

Then maybe leave a little gift behind for the rich to find

What kind of present doesn't come with a bow?

The most dashing assassin, you couldn't leave a scratch on me

With either your sword or bombs

With a face like that, man, you lacked attraction

Until they turned your head into a tourist one

This time make sure your matchstick works

When I send you more underground than the catholic church

You were persecuted, couldn't get married and go to mass, and worse

You had to put on your grandma's shirt

But what does a Man in Tights know about that?

Well I do know belts don't go on your hat

Couldn't blow the king dead, but at least you're remembered

By making dogs piss themselves every 5th of November

How did your hidden agenda get thwarted?

How did they possibly cotton on to your rotten plot and spot the bombs promptly?

When popping the protestants, stop your posse from gossiping

I can hear them plotting all the way from my forest in Nottingham

Your followers are tossers and pillock pilgrims and dunces

All that gunpowder to bloody blunder and buss-t it?

It wasn't your plot, you were following orders

So I'll be another Rob that you're taking the fall for

Those were "the rhymes of Robin Hood"?

You should pilfer some doper raps

But, hey, you successfully robbed me

Of a minute of my life that I won't get back

I fought in an 80 year battle

Shed blood so the Spanish flag could fly

Compare that to your little ballads

They read like a Peter Pan-tomime

I've an affinity for artillery

So don't bring a bow to a cannon fight

If you wanna trade blows, Robin Hood

I will set you and your stock market app alight

Bloke, your views just ain't consistent

You hate the rich, yet you're mates with Richard

Evidently you just can't take commitment

Marian's still waiting for her wedding day to finish

Sure, your aim is great when it's ranged equipment

But my aim was to change the system

I'm a deadly disease with this cadence, rhythm

And I'm infecting a thief like it's plague-iarism

For a glorified hog roast, I expected hot stuff

But there's not Much the minister's son can knock up (Yuh!)

John Johnson sucks like Prince John's thumbs

He got hung more than Little John's Johnson (Yuh!)

You're Christian? Read the Bible

God ain't too keen on the genocidal

Don't get within range of the British Hawkeye

When your shots are bullshit, and mine? (Bullseye!)

I tend to be friendly with any enemy, showing them plenty mercy

No matter the stakes or peril (Oh Robin!)

Remember remember, the very day that I'm making

A special case and I'm splitting you like an arrow (He shot him!)

The bloody band o' men that I'm rolling with are the merriest

Your friends abandoned you like wine, with barrels in a cellar, kid

You're not a vigilante veteran, you're a domestic terrorist

Don't need a revolution, Guy, you need a therapist

You shan't mock my sacrifice

The King knew that he'd have to hang me twice

Yes, they cut my balls off and I still got

Bigger bollocks than every merry man combined!

For the torture you'll have horses tied

To every corner and limb and forced to ride

Pulling your torso, hung, drawn and quartered

Never spoke at all though, cuz there's only one Lord I'd talk to

You're a dorky Zorro the most awful outlaw

To be thought as moral so unboard your high horse

Cuz your retorts are not warm

If I can't fight a fire with fire, I'll fight a Fox with Fawkes

Have you not learned a word from your shite books?

Fucking pervert, Robin Hood, head to sherwood and hide, run

Cuz my raps are like a servant of church and they're girthy

Furnished with so much hunger and thirst it's like my verses are Friar Tuck

Are you curtsying burglars quite done

With referring to how I burnt and got turned into fine dust?

Wait until you learn the merc that you're serving under, you heard

Who could never be hurt or murdered by none, got fucking murdered by nuns

Upon a time Rob of Locksley ventured

To my Hood and thought that his plot was better

I'll show this archer some honest intentions

When I chop off his fingers like V for vendetta