The Macc Lads Fellatio Nell, Son Lyrics

Let me tell you about the worst b_______ I ever had,
(It was alright, actually, it wasn't that bad)
If you just want the smeg licking off your bell end
There's a tart in Lancashire I'll recommend
She'll do it in the pub, you don't have to go to bed
She'll even put a beer towel on top of her head
And get a round in if you keep her well fed
f_______ Nell, son, you won't like the smell, son
Gangrene and death come across in her breath, f_______ Nell, son.

I was watching the final on the TV, when the smell of a urinal wafted over to me
I thought of open sewers and unflushed bogs,
But the smell of manure was coming out of her gob
No body's snogged her since '71
Coz her gob's always full of somebody's come
And there's seven types of d___ cheese under her tongue

f_______ Nell, son, you won't like the smell, son
She'll gobble up your s_____ and fit it down her throat, f_______ Nell, son.

Running sores round her cakehole, but I took the chance
You can't see her face when its in your underpants
She's swallowed more foreskins than a Yid doctor's bucket
She sees a bulging crotch, she just has to suck it

f_______ Nell, son. You won't like the smell, son
She can suck your b______ through the hole in your c___, f_______ Nell, son.

She can drool on your tool faster than blinking
She won't even mind if you carry on drinking
She'll even put a beer towel on top of her head
And get a round in if you keep her well fed

Nobody's snogged her since '72, her gob's always full of somebody's tool
f___ off down the chemists get some listerine
Your breath smells like the creature from the black latrine

She'll clean out your j__'s eye with the tip of her tongue
Eat the worms round your warhead if you're very well hung
Her face is always buried in somebody's flies