Gemstones

Lyrics

[Intro: Bob Balans] Yeah Bob fuckin' Balans [Verse 1: Bob Balans] You can only write what others write first I heard your verse, they were my words Put fireworks in a bin with your head in it to deafen a random verse The flags o' Turks are crescent Set against the cretin business in a vice-like prison In the night time risen, put your hi-fi system up Lyric monk went mad studyin' scripture Baldy singin' in the street like a Hare Krishna Yawn, kid, heard it all before It's been recorded, Aus hip-hop, don't support it Only buy it if you like it, that's the terms and conditions Read the fine print, then you can sign it 'Cause listenin' to you is like witnessin' paint peel, citizen How's fallin' under a train feel? Express, death sent FedEx I'm movin' freighter, mechanic damage your excess Baggage your breath with sparks and static and metallics Handlers find your head in a package with your address A wet mess like a phlegm chest Bob Balans, Brad Strut, Legendary, Trem's next [Verse 2: Trem] Another Unkut production, Peruvian gemstone This shit's a hit soon as my ears sit in the headphones Let it be known; Trem's applauded from coastline to red centre Master o' the most rhyme, laughin' at you "trend setters" I pen better in ten than you and them can in a fortnight There oughta be a clause against your grubby paws Maulin' any more mics, it's past funny You might be good at pullin' wool, but I'ma pull ya fuckin' car money Your whole shit's so fast, we in a different class And smash toys like a brat back in kindergarten Shit, I'm starvin', scroungin' the floor for scraps You a silver spoon and born with it all in your lap But this is raw rap where shit's hard to earn You wanna, cocksucker, knee scar, carpet burn Carnival rap fest that's laughable at best It's Trem One, Bob Balans, Legendary, Brad's next [Verse 3: Brad Strut] Commission's [?], settin' the course forward Rip the door off its hinges, no knockin' like a Mormon My pockets are appallin', I hear my coffin callin' Walk around daggy, depleted my endorphins My slaughter sounds ragged, this is a quiet storm And it's about to get violent, this is your final warnin' We down to bring silence, the truth is on sim About to throw it in a fire pit and let it hit ya Like a spark that's ignited to a fuel depot I bet that you'll let go, my crew'll stand aside Smilin' at your cool retros, and now you're burnin' rubber I got some learnin' brothers that are hip to hip and burnin' suckers (Burn that cunt) I'm fit to run yas out the game like Cronulla But I ain't discriminatin' on some colour, hatin' Allah (Akbar) 'Cause that's bullshit, cradle to the ball pit My rap life is leavin' em baptised with rule spit [Outro: Brad Strut] It's L.C., Lyrical Commission Two-thousand and six shit, now listen [Commentary: Trem] Yeah, yeah, wassup? Wassup? This is Trem One Representin' the almighty, all conquerin' Lyrical Commission crew I'm just chillin' up in the motherfuckin' Mahogany Room right about now With my brother from another mother, Brad Strut, ya know what I'm sayin'? We just roundin' out this mixtape But ya'll better cop the official album when it drops, yeah? Legend: Official Cop it!