We've got bottle tops
fill sonic malatovs chill
ill sound kill off the copper tops
eyes grillin
not gorillas in the mist
drum coppin a karate suit
chillin in the bits
And this one's bad for ya posture
got the crowd busin' back flips
it'll cost ya
'cause every time ya bus it in a rave
you got half of the capacity
puttin' in a claim
High calibre face cold damaja
take over everythin
smile for the camera
street face rambler
in the rave, stumblin'
eyes dialate from you hear
the base rumblin'
bleep child sleep deprivate
meditate
hallucinate
chill, go bed and recooperate
And who knows when the party ends??
Cause just when you thinks it's all DONE.
We start again...
Let the subs talk first...
34 hertz with girls in short skirtz
guys in the back
with their eyes in their caps
all high as a kite
with their minds in the trap cause,
this one's not for a
fussy old man
a beat
dub-suit
two tape decks and a casio
but since one to cop bed sheets
ten years ahead while's ya
thinkin about your next tweet.
We're so dub-plate exclusive
You can't bring those out
in a hallogram like Snoopface.
Get stupid,
get dumb,
get braindead—
step up in a clash
and get the walls stained red.
Sound killin' out here
no chillin' cause ya dealin' w/a
villin' out 'ere
write off a soundboy when dem pack up
And just when you think its all DONE...
We start again.

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS