For my people in the front (front)
In the Nosebleed Section (section)
This is for the heads that's loving the mix
My people in the front, all covered in spit
Batters in the box (uh), Suffa to pitch (what)
Hilltop Hoods, all up in this bitch
And we the funk leaders, punks, you can't beat us
We bump and pump meters, we drunk, you chumps need us
So, jump with us, down in the front if its (if it's your flavour)
Your flavour, come get drunk with us (woo!)
This life turned out nothing like I had planned (why not?)
By now, I should've had some land
Some money in my hand, 'round about 50 grand
But I got nothing (nothin'), I write rhymes on the bus
I keep suffering (sufferin'); fuck the lines of the dust
You keep sniffing, that shit is for the punk hoes (whoa)
This shit is for my bros, my people in the front row
You know I looked around, for faces I'd know
I fell in love with the people in the front row
You know I looked around, for faces I'd know
I fell in love with the people in the front row
I got hip-hop taste buds
I wanna hear that bass when I make love
I wanna hear some lyrics when I wake up
Write rhymes to get me through a break-up, bitch!
Rough like whisky straight, no chaser
Went through 50 breaks, no flavour
'Til I found this one, and made the
Bass hook with the drum, my saviour
This is the comeback, tongue that's sharp like a thumbtack
It's so tight, James is saying, "Give my funk back"
One track, eight track, ADAT, residual noise
Band funk that we claim with the digital toys
I'm the apache, you're failing to match me
Throw your hands in the air like you're hailing a taxi (taxi!)
And move to the funk flow, you stepping? Are you drunk bro?
This is for my peeps and the freaks in the front row
You know I looked around, for faces I'd know
I fell in love with the people in the front row
You know I looked around, for faces I'd know
I fell in love with the people in the front row
People don't complain' if Suffa's in here
And you're in the front row, all covered in beer
And club owners don't say, "The place is wrecked, it's your fault" (uh-huh)
If the roof is on fire, it's an electrical fault
Man, I bet you all bolt, when I bring it live
Like Friday night footy, in my hoody yakkin' harder
I get live on the breaks, son, like Pace One
Lads, if you're heading to the bar, grab your mates one
Ladies come chill, come rock with me, honey
I got like half a mil' in Monopoly money
There's no stopping me honey, so you can take my hand
We can lay on the beach and count grains of sand
And take a plane to Japan and drink saké with the mafia
Fly to Libya for some Bacardi with Gaddafi
A dinner date, followed by a funk show
We'll rip off our tops and jump around in the front row
You know I looked around, for faces I'd know
I fell in love with the people in the front row
You know I looked around, for faces I'd know
I fell in love with the people in the front row
Put me here and I'm all yours
Not for the money and it's not for the applause
No, oh no, no, no (it's for the nosebleed section)
You know I looked around, for faces I'd know
I fell in love with the people in the front row
You know I looked around, for faces I'd know
I fell in love with the people in the front row
