1. Madam Mrs

From the recording Madam Mrs

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Music production by Jago Fincken
Written & Performed by Jago Fincken
© One Shoe Records Ltd
Ⓟ OSR Publishing
All rights reserved


Madam Mrs
Twenty to nineteen reminiscing
Viral infected mass population
Memories the latter I tend to keep my distance
New trends and new cliques
Data stolen the apps pitched
Face value bitches suspect nothing corp bluffing
Phone clutching the cell buzzing Chanel dumbing

Down that's what I do for the platinum
Similar to Jay's BP on Black Album
Safe to say that listeners vital can't live without them
I jot the pointers down for the future memorandum huh
They all know I ain't here to constrict
But there's a stricter common goal between generations to fix
Entitlement a repercussion patience a big reduction
Resulting corporate corruption laws making quick adjustments
The red roots are soaking up in the blood and switch
Let's manufacture a clique we benefactors are quick
To shape the masses the riches banking too cold to admit
Madam Mrs falling down and she go’n end in a ditch
Honesty to the front I ain't rapping to make a living
Making it makes it certain I'm dying at twenty seven
The eight that on my back turn to fifty if my obsession
Suppresses scared of succession I'll make it at my discretion


Sheets stained laying in karma felt it
Silence reckless the diamonds that don't address but deflect it
Cleaning cash correcting the sources of the investments
Porsche collected by the officers yellow tape on the fences
Reality checks walk to the bank and cash a little
But stash it brittle so later the pounds in hand but fickle

Habits dirty money grab it and hold
Written in bold dirty cheques are dripping in gold
Suit wearing bitch manage the strap bearing figures
Consider selling control and wallets thicker
The fingers sign on dotted lines fuck a business
Rap proceed with impulsion to indifference
Labels watching the city crossers the pretty postures
Committee costumes with pinstripe the big profits
Divance came from no silver spoon my old adage
Ain't enough room for Madam Mrs and all her baggage


Up the south
Twenty to nineteen reminiscing
The fuck out