[Cuts/Chorus: DJ Reflux or DJ Debris?]
"Let's—Let's—Let's go" "Y'all ready or what?"
"Hill—Hill—Hilltop Hoods"
"Funk—Funk—Funkoars"
"I'll take a body count, I know my body count is right"
"Yeah" "Let's—Let's—Let's [?]"
"My body count is right"
"[?]"
"Got five MC that wanna contest we"
[Verse 1: Hons]
Ask the bookies, 'Oars picked the dollar one favourite
To top all your playlists, still R rated as hell
Not for the kiddies I tell
You know all about the city I dwell
It's a dirty South Adelaide, home where the heart is
Gave all to music so I roam with the martyrs
Lived next to Buffa, he showed me bodycount
Fifteen years later and it's more than just a hobby now
More than just a muck about run-of-the-mill
Stamp our name on the scene like done on the pill, sh**!
[?] of rap so kudos to that
Lost my mind and it ain't comin' back
Swear to God that I ain't gonna cell left
Sex sells and we can always start with my bell end
Well friends, I guess we back at it
We supply the demand, here's [?] for you rap addicts
[Verse 2: Pressure]
You and Pressure ain't the same type, you ain't like me
You can find me where the late night and daytime meet
Start a riot like a hate crime, then take my leave
I'm sick to d**h of being positive like HIV
(Cla**ic P) Y'all ain't here to listen
But you tap into my lines like News Corp and fear [?]
Sheer precision [?] my peers admission, driven by the next hit like a rear collision
(Come on!) We on the conquering grind
Not a sign that these rappers are deaf, they only robbin' the blind
Don't wanna find or hear my name dropped in your rhyme
Champagne tasting [?] you're crossing the line
Ain't nothing to me, the martyr of another MC
We ain't steppin' on them toes, it's a crushing defeat
Humping this beat with the Oars [?] something to see
Suffa, Debris, let it be, you ain't f**ing with me
[Cuts/Chorus: DJ Reflux or DJ Debris?]
"Let's—Let's—Let's go" "Y'all ready or what?"
"Hill—Hill—Hilltop Hoods"
"Funk—Funk—Funkoars"
"I'll take a body count, I know my body count is right"
"Yeah" "Let's—Let's—Let's [?]"
"My body count is right"
"[?]"
"Got five MC that wanna contest we"
[Verse 3: Trials]
My name is T, learned the logic through Debris
Now I do the beats [?] and do the E
Skip the pleasantries when I'm in the city streets, baggy
Can't hide nothing in skinny jeans, I'm saggin'
Calling me a ba*tard is bragging
f** all that new sh**, slap 'em with [?] wonderful plumage
(Can't do it!?) When they feel safe playing their tracks
Amongst they friends, taking it there, I'm taking it back
So bring 'em round pal, tell 'em Trigga's in the booth
X-Rays the next day, a little fingers in their womb
Mmm, you can smell it, work three years
On a release, you email 'em to your friends and D-L it, so it's on
Hundred-[?] megaton nuclear bomb
We all love thee rap songs, but you doin' 'em wrong
I hit the radio, go! Dust off the dials
You can always f** around, probably just not with Trials
You go
[Cuts/Bridge: DJ Reflux or DJ Debris?]
"Y'all—Y'all ready or what?"
"Hill—Hill—Hilltop Hoods"
"Funk—Funk—Funkoars"
"I'll take a body count, I know my body count is right"
[Verse 4: Sesta]
Wuss, my intentions are [?], dinner?
Great big bottle of paink**ers
When I come around someone in Manilla
Saw a whole f**ing prison dancing the "Thriller" (What?!)
With a self-deluded attitude
Doing it better than you is up my avenue
I don't know a rapper who do it better than Adam, Dan or Matthew
[?] Malibu, problem is
(What!?) You probably paying to an arsehole
Not in demand, but your heart's whole
You dumb as the motherf**ers you targetin'
Never be an artist, but you're marvellous at marketin'
We took the hard road like Hilltop
With an army of lunatics, just like Hillsong
Hands in the air like they feeling the pill drop
And watch 'em go down, down, down
[Verse 5: Suffa]
We jump on it, snap an ankle
[?] get 'em with the hand sk**s (Cla**ic Example)
Ayy, we up, [?] candles
So ease up, they call me that E cup, I'm a handful
You making records I've seen in landfills
While I'm catching [?] like a train that is leaving Granville
Station (All aboard) Scramble
When you're in the place and all aboard standstill
You gotta get them out their shell like a [?]
I got beats that make retailers break the embargo
I got my eyes on a narco
'Cause I see Vents One racking up lines like a barcode
[?] Honson the gambler
Hunter out west, I got Hauie up in Canberra
[?] grandma, man, I got
Two black eyes, yeah, I be looking like a Panda
[Cuts/Chorus: DJ Reflux or DJ Debris?]
"Let's—Let's—Let's go" "Y'all ready or what?"
"Hill—Hill—Hilltop Hoods"
"Funk—Funk—Funkoars"
"I'll take a body count, I know my body count is right"
"Yeah" "Let's—Let's—Let's [?]"
"My body count is right"
"[?]"
"Got five MC that wanna contest we"