Verse one-Suffa
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for my people in the front in the nose bleed section
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This is for the headsets loving the mix,
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My people in the front row, covered in spit,
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Batters in the box (uh), Suffa to pitch,(what)
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Hilltop Hoods, all up in this bitch,
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And we the funk leaders, punks you can¡¯t beat us,
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We bump and pump meters, we drunk you chumps need us,
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So jump with us, down the front, if it¡¯s (if it's your flavour),
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Your flavour, come get drunk with us,(wooooo!)
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This life turned out nothing like
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I had planned, (why not?)
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By now I should¡¯ve had some land,
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Some money in my hand, round about fifty grand,
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But I got nothing (nothin), I write rhymes on the bus,
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I keep suffering (sufferin); fuck the lines of the dust,
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You keep sniffing, that shit is for the Punk Hoes (wooaah!,
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This shit is for my bros, my people in the front row.
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Chorus
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You know I looked around, for faces I'd know,
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I fell in love with the people in the front row,
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(ho how)
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x2
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Verse Two - Suffa
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I got hip-hop taste buds,
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I wanna hear that bass when I make love,
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I wanna hear some lyrics when I wake up,
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Want rhymes to get me through a break up, bitch!
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I like my whisky, straight, no chaser,
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Went through fifty breaks, no flavour,
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Till I found this one, and made the,
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Bass hook with the drum, my saviour,
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This is the comeback, tongue that¡¯s sharp like a thumbtack,
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It¡¯s so tight James is saying, give my funk back,
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One track, eight track, a-dat, residual
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Noise, band funk that we claim with the digital,
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Toys, I¡¯m the Apache, you¡¯re failing to match me,
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Throw your hands in the air like you¡¯re hailing a taxi,
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And move to the funk flow, you stepping? Are you drunk bro?
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This is for my peeps and the freaks in the front row.
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Chorus
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x2
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Verse Three - Suffa
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People don¡¯t complain if Suffa¡¯s in here,
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And you¡¯re in the front row, all covered in beer,
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And club owners don¡¯t say ¡®the place is wrecked it¡¯s your fault¡¯,(uh huh)
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If the roof is on fire it¡¯s an electrical fault,
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Man I bet you all bolt, when I bring it live
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Like Friday night footy, in my hoody yakkin' hard I,
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Get live on the breaks son, like pace one,
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Lads, if you¡¯re heading to the bar grab your mates one,
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Ladies come chill, come rock with me honey,
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I got like half a mill in monopoly money,
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There¡¯s no stopping me honey, so you can take my hand,
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We can lay on the beach and count grains of sand,
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And take a plane to Japan, and drink sake with mafia,
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Fly to Libya for some Bacardi with Gadafi a
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Dinner date, followed by a funk show (uhh),
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We¡¯ll rip off our tops and jump around in the front row.
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Chorus
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x2
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Put me here, and I'm all yours, It's not for the money
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and it's not for the applause, no
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Oh no no nooo (Its for the Nosebleed Section)
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Chorus
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(till fade)
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-----------------
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The Nosebleed Section
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Hilltop Hoods |