Press Release

Lyrics

[Intro] All around the city, Hawthorn to Hursty Melbourne hip-hop fellas are fallin' for the thirsty North Fitz to G-town, bury ya weak clowns The Lyrical Commission — the winners in each round! All around the city, Alamein to Richmond Crisp up in ya system, this is the Commission From St. Kilda, Sunshine, lung rhyme to punchlines It's always, never sometimes! Fuck ones! I cut lines! [Verse 1: Brad Strut] This is stress relief, welcome to the press release I never cease like war goin' against the peace I score the best of weed, sure to slaughter less MC's Cut up a quarter, jug of water is the recipe Scenes of many horrors I've lived through A scholar of kicks, loops and bottles of Vic's brew To follow the southern swoll's and scribble on artist walls You're too fickle to fuck and brawl, I mingle with troubled sorts And double naughts in my bank account, so check the statement I can break it down — LC's takin' the crown! Makin' it healthy, never complacent, pushin' it to the limit The others seem to be racin', we're gettin' into your system Precision with no division, quality over quantity Audio anonymity, visually there's no stoppin' me! I got the hot degrees, [???] journalist I burn just like a furnace, inflict the bitch with a nervous twitch! [Verse 2: Trem] Man, it's evident this Lyrical Commission delegate Is tellin' this for all you real rap revelers to benefit Ever since eleven, hip-hop's been my residence I jacked all trades, and mastered one of four elements Pure elegance, my eloquent word use was prevalent And even in my style's early stages of development The whispers got around that Trem shows potential Composin' dope flows, drops 'em over slow instrumentals Incidentally, my first 12-inch was penciled Into the books as one of Melbourne's most influential Independently released debuts And now I'm here to break the news To these fake crews neglectin' to pay dues and debts I bruise reps and noose necks And dudes step in thinkin' they've got more juice than group sex So think again before you pick up the pen The scrolls, scripts — call it quits and leave this shit up to Trem! [Verse 3: Bob Balans] Ugh! B-A-lans' lyrics are top standard The sought-after broadcaster A crafter of the advanced dis-platters of raps like melons wack Bob Batterz that I've slapped on the wax canvas! A bloke to check when you're lookin' for dope lyrical ferociousness I wrote what you're supposed to get! Like a boxer's hand motion I keep the speed smokin' to your heads with no regret! Or commotion and showin' off, so easily flowin', yeah!? Hard to do? Look at those composin'! Plots of dead defecation Like gettin' laid and with nice pussy penetratin' With the men in quotations, than eggs and bacon Puttin' prey to death like insects in the web Lacin' the lines is the infestation Of LC strikes ya premises, but that's the end of this press statement! (Statement.. statement... statement...)