Critical Mass

Lyrics

[Interlude: Sample] "And I said that this was for real hip-hop, this wasn't for the girls who like that 'Starships' bullshit. And I ref—it's a pop song, and I referred to it as bullshit. I took a lot of heat from people" "Fuck 'em, fuck 'em" "A lot of people didn't think I should have the right to criticise [?]" "Fuck 'em" "Fair enough" [Verse 1: Trials] Said I put that in your Melon like a third of a bottle of a Smirnoff We hit the hard road then missed the fucking turnoff I burn off plenty fat, diggin' through any wack [?] stacks of penny stocks Haters gonna hate and helicopters helicopter Fat stack of weed, jelly as petroleum I lit it then I dutched the house out like Napoléon Sodium, benzos, deep in the friend zone Picked it up then blew it like you do with new Nintendos Held the traffic up, [?] as fuck, bourbon in my Maccas cup I pull my pants down and lift my fuckin' jacket up Sucker rappers actin' like they not suckin' this one Then why the fuck they so concerned when I was gettin' income? (That's mad) Dumb as Jeffrey Warren Daniels and you said you dope (Nope) Even the stiffest piece of shit [?] still float Roach another leaf in palm tree then chop it in a soup bowl Then stick my whole fist inside your loophole [Chorus: Trials, K21] That's what I'm gonna do (What up?) That's what I'm gonna do (What the fuck is up?) That's what I'm gonna do (Do) You ain't from around round here (What's up then? Son Son) You ain't from around round here You ain't from around round here You ain't from around round here (So don't) Swear they come around round here Haha [Verse 2: K21] It's always trouble when I Hang with Dan, little arrogant like Mr Sandilands Well-known [?] grams till I'm paranoid like a Sabbath band Trash your mans on a track with an avalanche of savage rants While wearing baggy pants like I'm about to do the hammer dance Let's have a jam blindfolded, play caravan without no hands And after, drink till we don't know how to stand, smoke a pound of lamb I'm out of dances to do, didn't have a chance to practise, and I bring the wrath [?] raps are banned in Pakistan And back again, fuck it, keep a sandpaper rugged While the ram raid your luggage, ram—ram raid your luggage Steal your rider too and tell your band mates to suck it 'Cause I'd rather be dead broke than build a fan base with rubbish And the G.E. bring a TV and my clan stays above [?] While we serenade the public with the landscape of ruckus While we rupture your subject, and ain't done until we've done it properly Throwin' eggs at your fuckin' copy while I'm bumpin' Godfrey Motherfucker