[Chorus:]
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(Suffa with Pressure)
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I got
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Hundreds of people asking me, getting pissed with me
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And dissin me
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Literally blasting me, asking me
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When the Hoods' new album's gonna drop
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And where it is, well here it is
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Man I got
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The mic in front of me, peeps to the back of me
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Pressure to the right of me
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And soul inside of me
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I got a variety of rhymes (I rock the spot)
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I got notoriety of rhymes (talk about what I got)
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[Verse 1: Pressure and Suffa]
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A sense of pride so lets just ride off my anguish
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Have the sense to slide and coinside with my language
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I got microphones and my piece of mind
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Despite my closure, get a piece of mind off my problem piece of rhymes
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I got my own view, my own reflection in the mirror
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I got enough noise to make micky loud, I scream I hear ya
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I got plenty of mates (and I've got plenty of enemies)
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And I've got plenty of hate (for the many bad memories)
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I got energy thats translated into speech
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When I'm (packing beats, beats, beats)
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The beats on my acca make the world go round
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And then I put it on my (rollin, rollin, rollin)
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Roll the sequencer, two seqencer
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Track format
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And mate I gotta speak with yer
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I got problems with my wage try'na make ends meat
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I guess it's either getting paid or respect on the street
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I got envy and jealousy, you're planning on telling me
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To drop a new LP because the melody's remedy
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I got my own shadow that
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Follows me in footsteps
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I've had enough people worrying about the props that the Hoods' get
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So why not, worry about what you've got
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Cos I got, enough of that old fly rock
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To make your girlfriends thighs rock
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Check what I got
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Her own hands between her legs
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Had a tap like a keg while you were drinking the dregs
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Just pull the styles fine, told her to lick her fingers
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Answer up the bass line, hook from Charlie Mingers
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And lingers in the track makes you believe in God when
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Suffa's so fat I guess I got a weight problem
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I got a squadron of b-boys ready to break em' off
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I break em' off then and then, from a cut of me costing
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I got you at a loss when you give it up for charity
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Got clarity, I spose I get exposure like a gallery
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I got a four door car and a three room home
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I got weekly repayments on a two grand loan
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I got one life to live and no second chances
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And mates that are writers and ryhmers of break dancers
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Clothes on my back and friends that I trust
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I got flows that are phat and a heart full of lust
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I got a sense of pride, I got agility and speed
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Emence ability, man I got everything I need
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I got three Hoods, the closeness for three times the dopeness
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See even if the nature cant get the situation is still hopeless
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I got my notice from non-composers, from their posters
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I suppose, so once I come the dopest
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(And you notice)
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I got a mic thats my companion
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My hood labels me champion
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Where here to get your publishes with you, we're undermanned
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I live a life thats demandive but still got positivity
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I got to explore each and every posibility
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Hip Hop is feeling me its going straight to my head
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(Like those seizures when I rap I'm taking grape juice and Sudafed)
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If you can get brews then I got ryhmes
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I got a cavalcade of battle rage to I got mine so
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(Get thrust, cause other MC's can't deal with us)
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I feel a must to get what I haven't got, a stagnent rock is
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Filling my ears and getting more play than Clatterol
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(I got a sense of direction and a compass
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Drive past MC's with no compassion, though I heard the scream sounds)
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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Whatcha Got?
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| Hilltop Hoods |
