Bodycount

[Scratches: DJ Reflux]

"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

15 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, shit!

The [?] of rap so kudos to that

Lost my mind and it ain’t come back

Swear to God that I ain’t got a cell left

Sex sells and we can always start with my bellend

Well friends, I guess we back at it

We supply the demand, here's the dope 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 death of being positive like HIV

(Classic P) Y'all ain't here to listen

But you tap into my lines like News Corp and fear admission

Sheer precision differs from 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

Up in this beat with the 'Oars where there's something to see

Suffa, Debris, let it be, you ain't fucking with me

[Scratches: DJ Reflux]

"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 to 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 bastard is bragging

Fuck all that new shit, slap 'em with a parrot, 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

[?] megaton nuclear bomb

We all love them rap songs, but you doin' 'em wrong

I hit the radio, go! Dust off the dials

You can always fuck around, pro'bly just not with Trials

You go

[Scratches (Condensed): DJ Reflux]

"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 is iller, dinner?

Great big bottle of painkillers

When I come around someone in Manilla

Saw a whole fucking 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

Prolly drinking Sprite with Malibu, problem is

(What!?) You prob'ly paying to an arsehole

Not in demand, but your heart's whole

You dumb as the motherfuckers 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]

Well jump on it, snap an ankle

Flux you get 'em with the hand skills (Classic Example)

Ayy, we up, cookin' the content of your 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 wreck 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 escargot

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

Got Fuad the famalam, Honson the gambler

Hunter out west, I got Hauie up in Canberra

For the drunk driver [?] grandma, man, I got

Two black eyes to have ya lookin' like a Panda

[Scratches: DJ Reflux]

"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"