[Chorus:]

(Suffa with Pressure)

I got

Hundreds of people asking me, getting pissed with me

And dissin me

Literally blasting me, asking me

When the Hoods' new album's gonna drop

And where it is, well here it is

Man I got

The mic in front of me, peeps to the back of me

Pressure to the right of me

And soul inside of me

I got a variety of rhymes (I rock the spot)

I got notoriety of rhymes (talk about what I got)



[Verse 1: Pressure and Suffa]

A sense of pride so lets just ride off my anguish

Have the sense to slide and coinside with my language

I got microphones and my piece of mind

Despite my closure, get a piece of mind off my problem piece of rhymes

I got my own view, my own reflection in the mirror

I got enough noise to make micky loud, I scream I hear ya

I got plenty of mates (and I've got plenty of enemies)

And I've got plenty of hate (for the many bad memories)

I got energy thats translated into speech

When I'm (packing beats, beats, beats)

The beats on my acca make the world go round

And then I put it on my (rollin, rollin, rollin)

Roll the sequencer, two seqencer

Track format

And mate I gotta speak with yer

I got problems with my wage try'na make ends meat

I guess it's either getting paid or respect on the street



I got envy and jealousy, you're planning on telling me

To drop a new LP because the melody's remedy

I got my own shadow that

Follows me in footsteps

I've had enough people worrying about the props that the Hoods' get

So why not, worry about what you've got

Cos I got, enough of that old fly rock

To make your girlfriends thighs rock

Check what I got

Her own hands between her legs

Had a tap like a keg while you were drinking the dregs

Just pull the styles fine, told her to lick her fingers

Answer up the bass line, hook from Charlie Mingers

And lingers in the track makes you believe in God when

Suffa's so fat I guess I got a weight problem

I got a squadron of b-boys ready to break em' off

I break em' off then and then, from a cut of me costing

I got you at a loss when you give it up for charity

Got clarity, I spose I get exposure like a gallery

I got a four door car and a three room home

I got weekly repayments on a two grand loan

I got one life to live and no second chances

And mates that are writers and ryhmers of break dancers



Clothes on my back and friends that I trust

I got flows that are phat and a heart full of lust

I got a sense of pride, I got agility and speed

Emence ability, man I got everything I need

I got three Hoods, the closeness for three times the dopeness

See even if the nature cant get the situation is still hopeless

I got my notice from non-composers, from their posters

I suppose, so once I come the dopest

(And you notice)

I got a mic thats my companion

My hood labels me champion

Where here to get your publishes with you, we're undermanned

I live a life thats demandive but still got positivity

I got to explore each and every posibility

Hip Hop is feeling me its going straight to my head

(Like those seizures when I rap I'm taking grape juice and Sudafed)

If you can get brews then I got ryhmes

I got a cavalcade of battle rage to I got mine so

(Get thrust, cause other MC's can't deal with us)

I feel a must to get what I haven't got, a stagnent rock is

Filling my ears and getting more play than Clatterol

(I got a sense of direction and a compass

Drive past MC's with no compassion, though I heard the scream sounds)



[Chorus]