You dirty rat, talking shit trying to send me back

To hell from where you came from

You sing that same song, every time I hear you

It sounds like you off ya flame plus you drink too much beer too

Your queer crew aren't shit neither

A bit eager to get a kid beater

With the blunt side of a machete

It's my cunt side that's so upsetting

Letting off steam like tutsi Quasar streams

Empty ya dreams, getting ripped at the seams

Harsh are the words from a biblical fiend

Cussing out the evil in you

It's amazing what evil people will do

To get the chance to dance and swing with the king

Shine without the bling bling

But B-Boys can't understand cause it's a Koolism thing see

Single-handedly, or even if I got my uncle down with me

We're taking out your whole family

From nephews, to second cousins, to your old bitch

To your half brother, down to your gold fish (oh ish)

You understanding me? Cause it's hunting season

And picking them off your family tree like

One by one, two by two, the almighty Koolism crew

The who is who of Aussie hip-hop

While I'm a sick cunt, your just a sick cock

In a piss trough so piss off





MC's think they're too deaf, to hear what I'm telling them

But they can't see me like tattoos on melanin

I'm large like Van Halen in the 80's

Ladies I love, ladies can't step bitches

Cut the track til it requires stitches

Like fruit fly in citrus, I'm I'll-tech like Tetris

? Just skill?, come and see what my vocal fetches

I give open lectures, in the park under Wattle trees

Until a fight sparks, and someone's baptised by the bottle we

Try chill, but it bothers me, that violence always erupts

The crowd is feeling me, like a pair of perfect D cups

Yo we up in here like last year's out of here

The hoods up, in here til we tired or out of beer

And we represent it, like the sort of the state

And we staying independent like the ward of the state

Yo I'm-bored-of-the-fake, hi fake! Named Suffa, pleased to meet ya

I live inside the mind of the listener through the speaker

(Is that your beeper?) No it's my phone, I got it on-beeper-and-vibrate

I rock's it for my people til my people's pupils dilate

Yo why hate, those on top, I'm coming from the bottom

Cut the track to my man who comes and puts the pressure on em!





I look MC's in their eyes and ask em what they think's wrong with this rap scene

And what their lacking, thinking that here I got their vaccine

I'm wavering from their battering with the slip of my mix

Think they can battle with headphones until they listen to this!

Kicking the hits, the Hoods and Koolism, I'm serious this

Is guaranteed to get some head nod til you slip and you diss

So persist with a diss! Man you believe it?

But they aren't even half-stepping, nah man they more like paraplegic

I rock em til they cease and keep it rough when get fucked

When I leave em scarred so hard they wouldn't heal if Jesus touched them

The rough blend like masturbating with a cheese grater

The MC breaker, never been a faker, please I'm greater!

By any means I make the track pound

Whether that be taking your integrity and exposing, yeah that's wack sound

Back down! Pressure got you where your caught, end it Suffa, swerve!

Step into the cipher, it's another world