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upfront mc - so far lyrics
(verse 1 – upfront mc)
been in the public eye for a couple of months now
a group of sick spitters coming with one sound
that gets bumped to your mum’s house
a studio flat sittin’ with skunk out
bet you never knew that we’d grow fat
chewin’ this ????
it’s nuts how
now you can travel the world in a sentence
and get hated on and dissed by some people before you have met them
but i’ll keep going and pursuing for a while yet
we wild tec shot people
like stompin’ on a child’s head
money shouldn’t be the motivation to make music
though fakes use it
we make ‘em stop moving like brake fluid
i fell in love with the sound of hip hop hearing the greats do it
not a bunch of pr-cks that aim for fame through it
straight sh-t dribbling insignificant script mimicking lyricists get kicked till their kids missing limbs
when i spit glistening lyrics that split the wigs of a critic and any person, in short: this is big isn’t it?
(chorus)
say what you wanna say
do what you wanna do
cause at the end of the day we’re here and we’re coming through
hate if you wanna hate
screw if you wanna screw
but at the end of the day we’re bringing you something new
spray what you wanna spray
choose what you wanna choose
cause at the end of the day we’re here and we’re coming through
sleep if you wanna sleep
boo if you wanna boo
but at the end of the day we’re bringing you truth
(verse 2 – upfront mc)
still sometimes shocked at the way that it’s moving
we’re making tunes and doing videos that people are rating when viewing
murkin’ shows, clothes, burning eps on cds
hip hops a game, we’re pursuing, ain’t no way that we’re losing
coming with chat that sounds mentally unstable
so eventually we’ll make you grow nuts like we’re bred to be awol
takin’ shots at ???? and steady your aim dude
cause i’m ready to bake you like an edible cake, i’ll chew
before spitting out the rapper with fake tunes
if they claim truths in their fake views
make no mistake
who’s gonna drain rooms at their brain tubes when i spray booths
hope it ain’t you
i bust with a mic in my hand like m-st-rbating on stage, it’s
a craftsmen with a brain sick like a man with a plague is
so best to cancel your playlist, find this cd and play this
split prophets on the move now, no way you can change it
(chorus)
(verse 3 – d. green)
i take a pull of my spliff and excel on my enemies
the thoughts of a girl in my sentences, eventually
you’re blown away when we cl1ck, load and spray
you didn’t note the stage was on cause you’re slow mentally
we keep it live like a pylon
moisturise dry songs
that’s right, the bad’s strong
epic when we write songs
package ‘em up with some ravenous f-ck
fakes try imitate but what they’re lacking is us
so, we’re back on this rapping ting
we find the formula
in the lab for six weeks on beats and tore it up
so the talkin’s done
banging out your speakers
slangin’ loud in the red zone
you dead clones’ heads blown
from the peach sh-t
are you best known
your cd didn’t get repeated
but your number got deleted
i knew you were weak from the get go
my bredda said so
who the f-ck comes in a nightclub with f-cking headphones?
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