Critical Mass

[Interlude: Sample]

"And I said that this was for real hip-hop, this wasn't for the girls who like that 'Starships' bullshit. And I ref—it's a pop song, and I referred to it as bullshit. I took a lot of heat from people" "Fuck 'em, fuck 'em" "A lot of people didn't think I should have the right to criticise [?]" "Fuck 'em" "Fair enough"

[Verse 1: Trials]

Said I put that in your

Melon like a third of a bottle of a Smirnoff

We hit the hard road then missed the fucking turnoff

I burn off plenty fat, diggin' through any wack [?] stacks of penny stocks

Haters gonna hate and helicopters helicopter

Fat stack of weed, jelly as petroleum

I lit it then I dutched the house out like Napoléon

Sodium, benzos, deep in the friend zone

Picked it up then blew it like you do with new Nintendos

Held the traffic up, [?] as fuck, bourbon in my Maccas cup

I pull my pants down and lift my fuckin' jacket up

Sucker rappers actin' like they not suckin' this one

Then why the fuck they so concerned when I was gettin' income? (That's mad)

Dumb as Jeffrey Warren Daniels and you said you dope (Nope)

Even the stiffest piece of shit [?] still float

Roach another leaf in palm tree then chop it in a soup bowl

Then stick my whole fist inside your loophole

[Chorus: Trials, K21]

That's what I'm gonna do (What up?) That's what I'm gonna do

(What the fuck is up?) That's what I'm gonna do

(Do) You ain't from around round here

(What's up then? Son

Son) You ain't from around round here

You ain't from around round here

You ain't from around round here (So don't)

Swear they come around round here

Haha

[Verse 2: K21]

It's always trouble when I

Hang with Dan, little arrogant like Mr Sandilands

Well-known [?] grams till I'm paranoid like a Sabbath band

Trash your mans on a track with an avalanche of savage rants

While wearing baggy pants like I'm about to do the hammer dance

Let's have a jam blindfolded, play caravan without no hands

And after, drink till we don't know how to stand, smoke a pound of lamb

I'm out of dances to do, didn't have a chance to practise, and

I bring the wrath [?] raps are banned in Pakistan

And back again, fuck it, keep a sandpaper rugged

While the ram raid your luggage, ram—ram raid your luggage

Steal your rider too and tell your band mates to suck it

'Cause I'd rather be dead broke than build a fan base with rubbish

And the G.E. bring a TV and my clan stays above [?]

While we serenade the public with the landscape of ruckus

While we rupture your subject, and ain't done until we've done it properly

Throwin' eggs at your fuckin' copy while I'm bumpin' Godfrey

Motherfucker