Golden Era Records - Wsup lyrics

[Transcription in Progress. Please don't edit] [Hosts Commentary: Briggs] Yo, check it out. What do you get when you put the whole G.E. camp in the one place, in the one time, on the one beat? You get a motherf**ing problem, that's what you get. [Verse 1: Suffa] Check You're in session with them boys from G.E We can't even pretend to be some toys like E.T., we lose 'em When we mix breaks [?] confuse 'em Like how there's mixtapes on CD, abuse 'em Like stepdads drunk and just made redundant And footsteps down your hallway thundering [?] Just go ask any [?] [Verse 2: Briggs] I'm an animal with a catapult and a bone to pick (Son) The chip on my shoulder is as big as this boulder is (Son) The squad is back [?] Golden cliche [?] phone it in [?] can't afford [?] whatever the f** it is you askin' for Mongrel, can't avoid the banana store [?] can you pa** the sauce? [Verse 3: Hons] I got eight bars to get it deeper than a graveyard [?] is how we make ours [?] [?] feel that [?] [?] front line I'ma take what's mine, plus everything else So lock up your daughters and [?] [Verse 4: Sesta] It's like [?] [?] My advice is "Don't let 'em win," if they try, let 'em think They can swim when they can't, when they dive, let 'em sink I'm on the brink [?] [?], politician in the sink Your beat mellow, uh, your deep sh** shallow Intellectual property probably stink ([?]) [Verse 5: Vents] Yeah, yeah, it's Golden Era Till I'm dead fella, so get the f** in the body bag You and your mates are half-naked, draped in an Aussie flag I'm not the type to be proud of my race I'm proud of the way my right hand pounding your face Spark the [?] train robbers Then disappear like rainforests Hate coppers with a pa**ion Rip up the mic [?], Vents [Verse 6: Pressure] Y'all know my name by now, I motivate a crowd [?] taking vows [?] [?] Golden Era when I die Me and my apostles gonna have a feast of flies Breathing life into the dead, underground like Jesus Christ Now we the ones speaking tongues to the lost Tag my verse upon your church just to get my point across [Verse 7: Trails] I take the mic and Donkey Kong [?] [?] in the ring, they both rappers, much different Alarm bells from Hell when I escape Quick as the depression that sets in as I awake Hit the motherf**er out of the shop (Whoa) Beat-boxing to the sound of the cops (No) I got this loaded pistol under my head I can't sleep incase Josef Fritzl under my bed What the f**? [Hosts Commentary: Briggs] Golden Era Mixtape two-thousand-and-twelve. Pssh. That's done. It's done, it's over. Finished. Pssh. Get your hands off 'em. Stop it! Just stop it, he's already dead!