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Lyrics
[Intro]
Oi—doors open, bad decisions queued,
Bassline rude and the whole room’s skewed.
[Verse 1]
I roll in late with a kebab and a grin,
Two pound in my pocket, still I’m billing the king.
Your man talks tough till the sub gets rude,
Now he’s hugging the speaker like it owes him food.
I’m chemically confident, tragically dressed,
Got a fake gold chain and a genuine mess.
She said, “You’re disgusting,” I said, “That’s my brand,”
Then dropped one bar so foul she washed her hands.
My chat-up line needs a warning label,
My bedside manner’s banned from the table.
I bring bad breath and a worse attitude,
Plus a pocket full of sweets that I definitely chewed.
[Pre-Chorus]
No class, no brakes, no sensible plan,
Bass in the chest and a drink in the hand.
If shame’s in the room, tell it, “Leave through the back,”
We’re three bad choices from a cardiac attack.
[Chorus]
Filthy little rave rat, chewing through the night,
Big bass, bad jokes, everything’s too bright.
If your ex walks in, let the punchline land,
I’m a walking health warning with a mic in my hand.
Filthy little rave rat, zero-filter chat,
Got a laugh so wrong it needs a habitat.
Raise your glass, lose your voice, let the whole place shake,
We came for one quick tune and made a terrible mistake.
[Verse 2]
I’ve got nightclub manners: none whatsoever,
I flirt like a tax bill and dress like bad weather.
She said, “Do you cook?” I said, “Only the books,”
Then winked at the bouncer and nicked his chips.
I’m a bargain-bin Casanova, clearance-rack charm,
Turn a romantic dinner to an edible alarm.
My hotel review said, “Loud, damp, and strange,”
Five stars for the bass, one star for the stains.
I’m sniffing out trouble like a dog at the gate,
But the dog’s on holiday and I’m running late.
Tablet in the pocket, glitter on the shoe,
Could be party dust—mate, honestly, who knew?
I don’t do subtle, I do blunt-force wit,
Make a grown man choke on the lime in his drink.
Your flow’s so dry it needs a moisturiser,
Mine’s so grim it got barred from the organiser.
[Bridge]
Cut the beat—let the room hear the crime,
One tiny pause for an enormous line.
Drums come back like a debt collector’s van,
Everybody jump like the floor’s got plans.
[Chorus]
Filthy little rave rat, chewing through the night,
Big bass, bad jokes, everything’s too bright.
If your ex walks in, let the punchline land,
I’m a walking health warning with a mic in my hand.
Filthy little rave rat, zero-filter chat,
Got a laugh so wrong it needs a habitat.
Raise your glass, lose your voice, let the whole place shake,
We came for one quick tune and made a terrible mistake.
[Outro]
Sun’s coming up, but the standards stayed low,
One shoe missing and I’m still on show.
If you want clean lyrics, mate, you took the wrong route—
Bassline in, lights out, filthy little rave rat out.
Details
GeneratedAug 30, 2026
Duration3:17
LanguageEnglish
Style
Filthy UK underground drum-and-bass rap, 174 BPM, jungle breakbeats with chopped Amen-style percussion, huge reese bass, distorted sub drops, rave stabs, dark warehouse energy, rapid-fire cocky MC delivery, exaggerated comic timing, call-and-response ad-libs, sudden beat cuts for punchlines, dense syllabic flow, gritty slightly overdriven vocal mix, club-loud low end, chaotic but tightly arranged. Explicit adult comedy, crude party humour, drug references, dark jokes, and outrageous innuendo; keep it clearly fictional and non-violent.
Credits
Prompt byUnknownGlobally
ModelAria v5.5
Prompt
Filthy UK underground DnB rap, rapid-fire bars, outrageous sexual humour, crude punchlines, drugs, partying and zero filter. Cocky chaotic MC, disgusting wordplay, dark jokes and massive rave bass.
