Pomlett or Bonser?

He rapped and pillaged the club for thirty years and continues to do so to this day.

He had a. Plan from day one and executed it to perfection.

Even dick Turpin had the decency to wear a mask. But our number one fan. Has never shown a scrap of remorse. For what he and his hoppos. Did. During the carve up of fellows park

7 Likes

Jeff can rap? Love to hear that?

Well this is a story all about how
I turned my club upside-down
I’d like to take a minute so take your seat
I’ll tell you how I came to.own Walsall FC

In the West Midlands I was born and raised
Gilding bog handles I spent most of my days
Scamming out, scheming, plotting what’s bad
When a property developer met me, quite mad
Started planning to switch up my neighborhood
I had a little meeting g to decide it was good
I said I’m moving with my supporters and team to Bescot

I set up two companies inside three days
And transferred some assets in mysterious ways
I told my accountant t don’t bother with files
And I sat back to make it all worth my while

Bonser suite, yo, it was class
Drinking frozen mild out of dirty glass
This is how the elite of Walsall live like
Hmm, this might be alright

And lo, it was done, a quick transfer of cash
And I had a club and a stadium to add to my stash
I moved fast, you see, didn’t stand on one spot
I hope you’re prepared for the leech of Bescot

Well the move had paid off and when I sat there
A dude like a teacher dropped by with wild hair
Said he represented the fans, worked with SWAG
So I gave him a job to cover up what I had

I arranged for two stooges called Stefan and Dan
To help run my operation, look out for the Man
To act as a valve between me and the fans
Keep an eye on the scruffs in the old blue pop stand

Now I sit on my throne and survey what is mine
Pay rent to myself - shit’s so fine
I look at the pitch, see the dross that plays there
I made it all right, I’m the prince of hot air.

21 Likes

Superb.

Should be our run out music

1 Like

Exy’s best contribution to UTS yet! :+1:

Outstanding