Nae Mince In Moray

I stumbled upon this wunnerful piece of Scottish Kulchur, and think it to be pure class

This even makes Eminem sound American.

A raw slice of Doric Scots … more chip-shop than hip-hop, more kipper than hipper, with full lyrics too!!

The desperate plight of a Moray man who, unable to locate a sufficient quantity of minced beef for his evening meal, finally loses the plot and takes vengeance with his frenzied rap.


Nae Mince In Moray

TheChielMeister

Lyrics:

Six in the morn, oot ma baed
Cup o’ haet caffee, git the paper raed
Rake in the tinnie fur a wee jam scone
Nihing bit crumbs, fit the hell’s gin oan?

Pinsion day, hoose is dry
Mebbe gae tae Murdoch’s fur a wee staek pie
Up the street, weel fa did a see?
Doad an’ Wully in the Raed Beestee.

Quater tae six, Ah’d better go
She’ll wunner far ah am, be up tae high doe
A winner oan ma coupon’ll calm hings doon
Itherwise, ah’ll be a henpeckit loon!

Came in aboot, nae smell, nae pan
Naeb’dy aroon’, fuar’n the hell hiv thae gang?
“Far hiv YOU been?” she girns at me
“Nivir mind that, fuar’n the hell’s ma tea?

Fuar’s ma mince? Fuar’s ma mince?
Haed a wee drap Windsday an’ ah’ve haed nane since.
Plinty o’ tatty, big green laef
Ah get a big moan but nae buggerin’ baef!!!

Ah’m oot in a sweat an’ ah’m panickin’ noo
On the sirch fur a bliddy big coo
Rummel aboot, high and lo
Nihing fur it, awa tae Tesco

Hoof doon the wid, nip in the air
Only wunted ma maet, didna wunt ony mair
Hands in ma poackets and sna oan the grun
Slipped oan the path, a’ ah cud dee wis run!

Weel, ah plummeted doon at an affa speed
Christ A’michty ah thocht ah wis deid!
Jist hung oan an staedied the ship
Jeesus min, ah fair swung ma hips!

Goat tae Tesco, jist in time
Nae cloased yit bit that suits me fine
Bit fit’n the hell’s this? Shelves bereft
“Wir soary mister, thir”s nae baef left!”

Fuar’s ma mince? Fuar’s ma mince?
Haed a wee drap Windsday an’ ah’ve haed nane since.
Plinty o’ tatty, big green laef
Thir’s plinty excuses but nae buggerin’ baef!!!

Fit can a man dee? The wurld”s goan tae pot
Nae bliddy wunner a man taks the shot
I dinna wunt the earth an’ I couldna gie a dam
Ah’m jist nae in the mood for corned baef nor spam

Ah’ve a bliddy guid mind tae mak a phone call
Oan tae thae buggers at Interpol
Nae baef, nae maet, fit an affa cairy oan!
At’s nae bliddy mince, fit the bliddy hell’s yon!!?

Fuar’s ma mince? Fuar’s ma mince?
Haed a wee drap Windsday an’ ah’ve haed nane since.
Plinty o’ tatty, big green laef
Dis naeb’dy care ah’ve nae buggerin’ baef!!!?

(He has no mince)
Fuar’s ma bliddy denner min?

(He has no mince)
Fit kinna bliddy caper’s this, eh?

Ah’ll bliddy mince ye, aye.

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