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crossbred mongrels - full effect كلمات الأغنية

intro:
it’s the mongrels, the hoods and dj bones/
with m-ss mc, and four microphones/
we’re about to get down, and prove we catch rec/
and make you bounce more than a cold man’s check/

verse 1: fatface
i’m in full effect, like pj’s magazine/
all my flows are b-tter cause i don’t use margarine/
mate, spread the word, fatface is dropping raps/
i got your head nodding to the kicks during claps/
perhaps you need a drink? well shout me one too/
when i bust lyrics, i get thirsty for a brew/
why not grab a slab? i’m sure the hood’s agree/
“there’s nothing like a coldy, even better when it’s free”/
stylish rhymes get flexed, especially when i’m drunk/
the piss in my system, brings out the funk/
sometimes i run amok, but now i’m just maxing/
back to the beat, that’s my way of relaxing/
i live for hip hop, i’m just sculling down a lager/
ever days a hangover and the headaches seem harder/
what they really can’t stand is a pissed, bogan wanker/
i hate them fools more, than ‘morning, hey sri lanka”/
still, my life is chill, kinda like an esky/
do i have any complaints? they’re all pretty pesky/
maybe alcohol poisoning, but that i don’t fear/
the one thing i do is a pub with no beer/

verse 2: m-ss mc
now i’m a crossbred that’s humble/
m-ss mc be on the free to dismantle/
the ones that mumbled lyricism/
crews locked in verbal prison, they’re styles weak/
while dominion crew workers collab on hilltop’s streets/
this is my fam, debris hard up for once when he ate mega ramps/
through the air, got more lucks/lux than a ceddar caravan/
all i smell in adelaide is cones, ain’t seen an ugly chic yet/
or skyscr-pers/
but heaps of vapors on walls, it’s for a cause/
b-boys and girls in this part of aus rock for sure/
mad yumps run underground plantations/
i see it in their faces, they’re deeper than hattians/
dj bones spin faster than a scarcely, too dry [?]/
hahahahaha, run and hide/
so how could you even think you trying to do these things/
i put fishing line on your hands and feet and keep you pulling strings/

verse 3: pressure
now who the mc’s that bring it live-r and tighter/
from freestyle writers, to biters, dj bones the insider/
now, perfection’s what i strive for/
cause imma true survivor/
hear my voice from the underground, less you a diver/
put your hands together, for the sound provider/
cause many found desire to cover ground that’s high [?]/
and these men speaking in tongues that make your eardrums bleed/
not here to give them what they want
we here to give them what they need/
but some got fascination for the trash they make/
and they just masturbation, laceration/
probably best in infatuations/
i rock tracks, 100 percent saturation/
it all comes down to the cash i making and wack creations/
from stagnations blocking your airways, mc’s rocking for airplay/
why don’t you top in belair way?/
ah, pressure set it in motion like it’s heavy on the track/
i took some from hip hop, and got a whole lot back/
i cut a whole lotta slack, paying dues, from twisting caps/
now, mate, it’s systematic, kicking raps, so where the listeners at?/
all gathered around/
i make moves to pay dues, make moves, the ones/
i make using your fake crews, that’s late news/
now i socialise with the local guys, put it on wax/
and vocalise, global wise/
and i don’t stop the rock/
you know we won’t suffa, show ‘em how we do it/
brother show ‘em how we know/

verse 4: suffa
well, i’d like to know if, you got the notion/
(suffa mc) said, i’d like to know if, you got the notion/
that i’m not number one b-boy, i rougher all of y’all/
keeping crowds packed from wall to wall/
so rock, rock y’all, don’t stop y’all (?)/
so keep on, like time, marching in formation/
hilltop is, foot soldiers for the hip hop nation/
battling flows with flows, battling hoes at shows/
lyrical can doe, lyrical can doe/
so smash back, slash, i take your title/
with the sewer sound of my suicidal recital/
who is down? you better because this rhyme will/
cut up mc’s like dj’s on vinyl/
and your time will be, final decided/
so when it comes down to it, the underground fluent/
shall rise to the top, and flood these streets/
with suffa’s speech over, muddy beats/
w-ssup, we speak, we build, we talk/
on a culture imported here from new york/
it’s hip hop, it lives inside of us/
and we only let it out when we bust/

- crossbred mongrels

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