I was working as an MC the other day

With a cup o' instant coffee and some marmalade

It's hard to play when just wanna run away

It's underlay underlay since underage

Then the phone rang “It's Urthboy here,

I'm Elefant Traks just like Kenny Sabir

“Hi, someone led me to believe you're an MC

I've got an offer that would maybe eve tempt me.

What I meant means we give you a set fee

You play at our gig for peanuts and a little prestige”

So the rest see me as a success

While I'm struggling to pay rent with records to press

But yes I agree to it, how can you not?

Thinking of the fluid with the international slot

I've got no time for rhymers, slash social climbers

It's just another gig I'm doing for the rider


There is no rider my friend, so why we doing this then?

We all go broke by night end (like, broke as hell, can't you tell)


Leave the house, lock the door, catch the train

Or the bus it's a rush tame the peak hour crush

to the venue, nothing but trouble on the menu

Cock-rocking headstrong soundmen to get through

This shit can really send you to the pub next door

Either that or make sure he leaves with a broken jaw

(Ahh) nah man I'm just joking around

Just hoping to soundcheck without choking this clown

I'm just about over it now and I'm not hopeful

Can I get a test vocal from the pleb locals

This opals got rough edges and a hard centre

I'm doing it for the love music's my warm sweater

Kinda like a second placenta so when I enter

In performance endeavours there's Desmond Decker-like measure

And ever different, but listen, there is that divider

Drink up cos the other act will steal all ya rider


I was working as an MC the other night

With a couple shitty mics and an appetite

Cook MCs like, look it's a parasite

Eat em up but first wipe the dirt out of sight

I'm your superman's cryptonite talkback 

shock jock sponsorship, politicians dirty money

Saw you coming from a mile away you got the 

right-of-way yeah that's what all the rhymers say

I'm inclined to play cos in the end it's entertainment

Crafted and created, loungeroom and the basement

Break-in, and of the things stolen by the sly crooks

Cash, backpack, laptop and rhymebook

Start from scratch, and scrap the last seventy-ish

Pull out every single hair and tear em to bits

Material things, gone with the pied piper

(Okay winona, I'll do it for the Ryder)