[Verse 1 a¢æ¡° Pressure]
|
Let's get introductions aside,
|
Pressure, Omni and Suffa tonight busting the mic like,
|
Lately I've been hearing nothing but hype,
|
Pen's mightier than your sword? Then you'd be fucked in a fight,
|
From the point of the exact conception I've had perfection,
|
And you ain't close to Omni even though you may lack direction,
|
I've got a good heart, but bad intentions,
|
Pressure don't need a map for reference I'm a man of legends,
|
I'll last forever like bad impressions,
|
Like the first night you cursed in adolescence,
|
The way I slam a sentence can panic veterans,
|
Some things are better left unsaid like anything that I have to mention,
|
My loud mouths my downfall it's doubtful,
|
I'll bite off more than I can chew 'cause I already got a mouthful,
|
Act like I astound yall, well I'm a scoundrel,
|
With enemies but clichA¨Ï is a friend of me, I'm out yall.
|
|
[Chorus]
|
Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table,
|
Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you're able,
|
We've got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations,
|
It's the universal language of relaxation.
|
|
[Verse 2 a¢æ¡° Okwerdz]
|
The seas are combinin' to breathe in the lions,
|
It's not Omni its Okwerdz with tha rhymin,
|
You need to be supportin these cats with tha passion,
|
Instead of beefin about what action they rap with,
|
As if it ain't tough enough to come up with a record,
|
Just ask the Hoods really could Suffa from the Pressure,
|
Get it? Nah!
|
Its hard, let me tell you,
|
And in this era I wish fans in America were as hungry as they are in Australia,
|
Got the heart of failure,
|
Got stuff for the broads and the boys,
|
There's something all for the fellas,
|
Just climb back, and just get chill with us now,
|
Hey yo and why's that? Cause I'm sick of yellin so loud,
|
But I'm the hungriest alive, can't to do won't wait,
|
So turn your head for a second you might lose your place,
|
So it's Doc Dim meets Adelaide, ey oh just bring the platinum plaques this way.
|
|
[Chorus]
|
Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table,
|
Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you're able,
|
We've got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations,
|
It's the universal language of relaxation.
|
|
[Verse 3 a¢æ¡° Suffa]
|
I heard there ain't no party like an open bar,
|
We lay out rhymes like drinks for a broken heart,
|
Heartbreak like liquor in an open scar,
|
So bizarre, roll thick like smokers tar,
|
Tell me who can rock parties with no guitar,
|
And if I ain't getting paid then I'm leaving in the promoter's car,
|
Tell me who you know this far,
|
Gone, on till the momentsa¢æ|
|
Gone, on till the break of this government's back,
|
And it's on till my mates are all loving the tracks,
|
No thugs in his raps, no muggings and macks,
|
And no guns, just trying to get us up on the map,
|
Bust, Suffa on wax, trust it's on,
|
I'm trying to do for rhyme what digital cameras did for porn,
|
Born in a small town, die with a big mouth,
|
Hoods tore it all down, shouts to the kids south.
|
|
[Chorus]
|
Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table,
|
Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you're able,
|
We've got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations,
|
It's the universal language of relaxation,
|
Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table,
|
Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you're able,
|
We've got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations,
|
It's the universal language of relaxation,
|
Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table,
|
Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you're able,
|
We've got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations,
|
It's the universal language of relaxation,
|
Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table,
|
Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you're able,
|
We've got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations,
|
It's the universal language of relaxation.
|
|
-----------------
|
Conversations Of A Speakeasy Restrung
|
Hilltop Hoods |