Hilltop Hoods

Hilltop Hoods - Monsters Ball songtekst

Je score:

[Verse 1: Suffa MC]

Oh you sound like a bitch man

nymphos in your clip and disco riffs man

I'll you this ok it dont flip man

its like OJ, little glove big hand

step to this il take your miss make her twist and

moan I fucked with the pitch man

This land where the bricks stand,

On red sands, I spit grams of powdered Difflam,

To ease your muscle pain, do the hustle,

Came to tussle against the corporate gain man,

Parcels move train to plane in the struggle,

Markers give a claim to fame in the jungle,

Street revolutionaries, we the evolutionary,

Anomalies, but stupidly they try stopping me,

That’s only making me a martry we,

Like opiates in the vein, that attack the arteries,

Don’t get smart with me; I got a heart in me,

Like Pharlap, and gone so far raps now a part of me,

I got camaraderie, the great unwashed,

I got a heart in me that pump’s straight up scotch,

But crews still try to diss me, till I switch it on em,

Like they try to diss Fats, till they see a picture of him,

Big boys, aint small man, they tall and,

Ugly, want to cut me come join and join the monsters ball man



[chrous]



[Verse 2: Pressure MC]

These are the last of days a vast array

of fake fucks up in a masquerade

It's swim or drown we act we don't sink

It's primal instinct we rap we don't think

it's do or die dont turn our back like suicide

til your doin time with these cut throats in a suit and tie

so dont feed the animals, or act the fool

your just one man a young lamb amongst a pack of wolves

while your fighting over scraps and loose change,

and moot claims

pressures higher up in the food chain

small time predators rove in packs

thats why big time executives throw them scraps

so much static that this is such a hazzadus business

and havin to witness half these rappers are bitches

got me laughing hystericaly

Ive the heart of a pedigree

so pissing on the next man is just marking my territory

rivals will claim over head strong beef

and try fighting for fame on these slept on streets

while I'm sign up myname in the wet concrete

touching both sides of your brain when i flex on beats

and we sell the drumbs il see cowards hung

when my hour comes up rather catch a beat down than run

its just that honest i dont rap for these monsters

Id rather face the music than turn my back on yas
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Taal: Engels

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