Mad Tight

Yo, check me out right here

You see, these rappers are unhappy

With the price of the gold card

While on this mic I'm like

Ice in a cold glass

There's no doubt

I manhandle a track

And break this bitch down

Like Bam Bam with his bat

You players act pussy

Like Jessica Rabbit

I'mma hit you with some shit

That get ya head in a hammock

I'm that poet burst

On that park bench to smoke

The only Superman that knows

Clark Kent's a joke

A fist fuck freedom

I fight for my right

To hit the lab with a pad

And have the time of my life

You're damn right,

I been sparkin' up the highs

Takin' flight in the night

With my armored butterflies

But notice I throw bricks

I'm heaven sent, bro

It's no shit, my flow's sick

I represent, so

Drown in my dreams

When you look at my eyes

And just bounce to the beat

And prove the boogie's alive

Hey yo, Sydney (what what)

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Hey yo, Brissy (what what)

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

See, i dream to be

On TV flashin' my balls

Throwin' it up for my lads

Like graff on a wall

That's right, we gotta maintain

And struggle through the drama

And stay on the rise

Like bubbles in my lager

But right now

You better make some way

For new talent that pretty much

Covers state to state

But when it's all said and done

I'll be riding the back

Of Uncle Sam gettin' drunk

With my eyes on his cash

Why you pursuin' the cash, bro?

I'm doin' the math flows

Spittin' more dirty shit

Than players chewin' tobacco

Raggin' they glassfuls

And how they pimp slap hoes

But I think I'll be less bored

Watchin grass grow, asshole

I'm not a new face

I know this record shit's

A big loot race

They asked to see my tour budget

I held up my shoelace

You could only afford two plane tickets

And some toothpaste

Hey yo, Eso, help me

Shove Izm in my suitcase

Hey yo, Melbourne (what what)

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Adelaide, (what what)

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

So you got the first record

At the hip hop store

Yeah, that shit was fresh

Man, but this is sophomore

(aw yeah)

And I ain't even gotta ask

If you feel us

You know that Bliss N Eso throws

The illest bash in the village

Oh you know, bro

It's those nutty loco kids

Get the crowd bouncin' like

A sea of cats on pogo sticks

We on that next level

Droppin' turds, bombin' ya whole plane

2008 rap Jonathan Coltrane

My lab was built great

Plush leather couches and silk drapes

Try furniture made out of planks

Of wooden milk crates

We both underground blokes

Spittin' profound quotes

Sippin' the local lager

Mingling with the town folk

Just two white boys

And a half Arab man

Travel the land in an

Old busted thrash caravan

See, hip hop finds us

When we feel all lost

So we gon' ride this motherfucker

'til the wheels fall off

Hey yo, Perth (what what)

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Hey yo, Tassie (what what)

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Hey yo, Canberra (what what)

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Byron Bay, (what what)

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

To the rest of the land

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight

Your style is mad tight [x8]