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作词 : Blake Turnell/Samuel Phillips/Kirill Magai |
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作曲 : Blake Turnell/Samuel Phillips/Kirill Magai |
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I'm lost in this Safari, with writers block |
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I light the pot, still got Chrome for the beef, lad |
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**** with the party, you're Microsoft, I'm Firefox |
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I'll Mac your books on a beat, lad |
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I space bars apart to try shift, control, alt delete that |
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On keyboards, I blow like C4 |
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I tell 'em I spit raw, the whole crowd repeats that |
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Catch that shit like a virus |
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Smokin' a Billy Ray Cyrus |
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I'm the Osiris |
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You don't wanna touch my style, it's hench |
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Get clenched like pliers |
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I'll race car drive ya, back into 2016 |
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(One of my bars worth 20 16's) |
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Smoke four-two-oh with 26 teens |
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Fast forward four years that's 26 G's |
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****in' b*****s while I'm puffin' swishers with the bud rocks |
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Double visions from the buds I'm hitting |
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Keep a spliff of litty in my glovebox |
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Everybody say they got the chronic |
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So we knock-a-knockin' at the drug spots |
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We just wanna get a couple nuggets |
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If they blocka blocka then we ****ed off |
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Still I kick goals like Goods |
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Still I got stripes like Woods |
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Still I got a two-pack rolled all night like Suge and I still get high through hoods |
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Still I'm on the road like two white stripes |
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Till I got a phone like two white Nikes |
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Still sip beers, I flipped and switched gears and I push 'em on a pedal but I don't ride bikes |
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Don't tell lies |
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Bad b***h I like |
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Tell a bad b***h, "I might" |
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Tell a bad b***h, "Yeah, I ride for my day ones and I wake up and I blaze up, high" |
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I'm off chops like vegans do |
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I'm what 70 times 6 equals to |
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Head for the head, connect to get checked |
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Then I head for the head like a beanie do |
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I pop bars, rock stars like Beatles do |
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Got pot, got pans like Peter do |
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I was ready for the war, ready for the war |
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The devil's at the door, I'ma leave with you |
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Butt-heads like Beavis do |
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She beef with you, I don't know why I'm leavin' you |
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'Cause, my girl, I can't watch you cry |
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But I swear I'll bleed for you, bleed for you |
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Switch it up |
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Where I'm from I learnt to keep it hunned |
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When I buss it, buss it for these up and comers |
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You can't see me comin' like you Stevie Wonder |
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This is Oklahoma, this is City Thunder |
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Brudda-brudda-brudda, did I stutter-stutter? |
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This is gutter-gutter for you mother****ers |
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Bada-bing and boom and I just does it-does it |
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Now you breddas love it |
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Bit of weed then I get in dozens |
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Press the buttons, get me many brothers |
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I could bender-bender it like I'm Benny Cousins |
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Lightyear, now I'm plenty buzzin' |
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Now I sip it, sip it from the Henny cup and |
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Right here, I was steady puffin' |
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You can come and get it, I ain't ever runnin' |
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I ain't never ever goin' nowhere |
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Homie, we don't care |
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Love it or hate it, 'cause we underrated and out of Australia, aw yeah |
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And I ain't never ever goin' nowhere |
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Homie, I don't care |
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Love it or hate it, 'cause we underrated and out of Australia, aw yeah |
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Yeah, I'm a fiend for the mic |
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Bleed for the beats but it keep me alive |
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Demons arise if you're weak in the mind |
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But you need a disguise, I can see through the lies |
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Won't go dull with the dreamers, I wonder why flow's so cold |
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I could freeze in the summertime |
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I said flow's so cold, I could freeze in the summertime |
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Yeah, Wombat is a black sheep |
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Couldn't give a **** if I crash |
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Laid back in the back seat |
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Think you lads couldn't match me |
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Not by the gaps in my cracked teeth |
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Spaz on a trap beat |
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What, they're eager to test? |
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They believe they're a threat, but they're ten steps back |
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And they're trapped 'cause we're redbacks weavin' a web |
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They'll regret that they penned tracks, leave 'em a mess |
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I reside in the south, I'm about, the cunt's back |
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Drivin' around, there's an ounce of bud that surrounds my n**sack |
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Hyped when I'm out |
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But if sirens-a sound then I'm out like "**** that!" |
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It's evident, got a vendetta, pen's venomous |
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Avatar, I can bend elements |
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We're felonious, they're dreadin' us |
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Ten seconds and they're dead |
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It's just they're jealous 'cause they're delicate |
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Gas up my engine, travel dimensions |
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Back in a flash like astral projection |
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Smashin' a set, no lads in contention |
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They're no match but they have to contest |
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You can try though, but I dice flows with the mic closed |
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Right flows on a tightrope in a cyclone |
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Got my eyes wide open, a psycho |
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When I hide from the 5-0 gotta lie low |
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Sick of bringin' us down, well don't count on it, quick |
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I'm not kiddin' around, I've grown out of the shit |
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Been surrounded by pricks, but I'm pickin' em out |
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So in a minute I'm bound to go down with the ship |
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Spinnin' around, thinkin' about spittin' it foul |
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Figured out how to be soundin' this sick |
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So the crowd's gonna bounce in a fit |
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Give it up, give us the crown, it's no doubt we're the kings |
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What it is, what it is, man |
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I said, "It is what it is, man" |
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But I can't get a grip like I'm sinkin' in quicksand |
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Startin' to think I ain't shit but a d**khead |
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Dancin' with Lucifer |
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I'm goin' all out now, it's gettin' nuclear |
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We have to fall out |
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We boutta to fall out, yeah |
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War like a Shaolin, talk of the town |
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Get around it, surrounded by thoughts you can drown in |
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Fought for the crown, never dwarf of the town, and were fromin |
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But I gotta fight this abyss like I'll die in a blink |
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It was like an epiphany |
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Lightin' the spliff, man this life is a mystery |
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Gotta thrive till we ride for the victory |
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And I'm not social, I'm unapproachable |
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Don't think that I'll choke 'cause I'm ropable |
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It's no joke, don't go get emotional |
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Like "why is everything we flow so quotable?" |
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Most of all, when I mention the top |
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Better check when connectin' the dots |
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When I stepped in the spot |
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I shocked all the vets, I'm like lots of electrical watts |
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Let me stress, we're the best of the flock |
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But I'm sick of these silly cunts shit |
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I'm the bitter one, spit like a Minigun |
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With a bit of luck, like a b***h I be living lush |
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Got a mini buzz, pick it up like a ciggie butt |
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Kick it in the middle of a city that is in a rush |
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We don't fuss, think I give a shit? Couldn't give a **** |
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Tick us up, gotta get a mix of the sticky bud |
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So they wanna mimic us, but the jig is up |
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