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    I conversate to all mc's with my double jointed tongue
    Slapping, fuck ya wack rapping
    Taking-a-bite-out-of-ya-mix and best mic just happening
    You're lacking in persona
    While I throw lyric bombardments to your crew in every corner
    I discharge a mad flow that'll stop dogs from barking
    Snap your leg bones so you can use disabled parking
    Give you unimaginable meanings to the word fucking
    Your raps mean nothing, I get your grandma to cook me muffins
    Move in so I can hide eggs in the neighbour's ceiling
    In plastic bags next to the cocaine and bruce lee key rings
    You mc's are still teething, intriguing
    Before the battle pleading, after that your heads are bleeding
    Miraculous flows with raggedy clothes, my trademark
    Overweight but I'll still move fast, on any beat that's hard
    You claiming to be battle mc's with tight flows and integrity?
    Blow me, you mother fuckers are far from scary

    Pressure mc, get with me, from adelaide to sydney
    This be dedicated to mc's that struck out but still yelling 'hit me! '
    With their gimmicks and imagery, this isn't ability
    They barely stand on their own two, I got infinite stability
    The difference admittedly is minimally in your favour
    The thinnest paper, while I got the flavour to stimulate ya
    Censors and integrate the presence in every sentence
    So I harness life essence and kept my blessings as lessons
    My tolerance overloads, mc's are over-exposed
    Can't get over themselves like females can't get over clothes
    Hip-hop is overdosed like here we over rose this distortion now
    Every arsehole got an opinion - but it's mainly shit talking
    I break new ground while many fall short of the high land, they tir-an
    Missed the point like saying 'it's that way' to a blind man
    Fucked if I'm a by-stand while my cultures choking fast
    My tolerance is wearing thin, man they treading on broken glass

    Why, why
    Tell me why-y
    Tell me why these mc's try-y-y

    I'm reaching the threshold of my tolerance level...
    Cause you might...
    Weather the storm but you can't stand the rain boy
    Gets played like a game boy
    I'll make you fucking suffer like my name boy
    Hey boy, what you got there? is that a microphone?
    Well two's company so why not leave me and the mic alone?
    Fighting clones, shit they lack, I'm walking on their grave when
    Alone on this mic so no one else is on my wavelength
    Gave strength to the weak, gave breath to the breathless
    You can take it to the street but it's like playing in asbestos
    Test us, like you holier than thou, lose control of ya bounce
    Pack up your suitcase and fold up your blouse
    We all in the house, like home-arrest, I'm known to stress
    So show your best flow and let's see my next rhyme blow your chest
    Open like a surgeons scalpel, I'll leave you hurt and doubtful
    Of your words cause this is murder in a mouthful
    Suffa bring disaster from within, hear the laughter from my kin
    I'll leave you with the hoods logo plastered, crafted in your skin
    Step and bust, but realise there's no stopping us
    So watch your whole crew get fucked, like my dick was filled with phosphorus

    I've been busting raps since the days of fat laces
    There's a lot of new rappers, but they're not fatfaces
    They're disgraces, they could never be compared to me
    (like are they really that bad?) well I'm prepared to see
    I'll be at their stage show, waiting in the front row
    And if they try and diss I'm gonna stop their flow
    Like cholesterol in the arteries and shit in the s bend
    I'll rattle their whole crew and scull back the west end
    I'm destined to be known, for ripping the microphone
    Try and bite like a clone, that'll never be condoned
    I've shown some restraint, but now I've reached the edge
    Of my tolerance level, so it's you I'm gonna sledge
    I pledge allegiance to australia, I'm a true aussie rhymer
    Mate your raps stink more, than a prostitute's vagina
    I find your accents laughable to say the least
    You're far from honour with a life betting on junior treats fool

    Tell me why
    I'm sick of misfits, I'm sick of twits
    I'm sick of internet gits that choke a microphone, miss
    From gargling piss, of their message board buddies
    They should be writing real raps, instead of uni studies
    I'm throwing stubbies, in the general direction
    They can only battle us, when they pass our introspection
    Neglection, is the sole reason for this fake fate
    When the quality of life depends on board rate
    And e-mates, who's reality revolves around
    Incoming attachments and mp3 sounds
    They think they're bound, for infinite glory
    But have got a multiple choice, perspective on this story
    They go back to where they came from
    They study explosives then drop bombs
    They learn to stand up, fight and terrify
    They look me in the eye and tell me why

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    Todas as letras de Hilltop Hoods

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