Posse Cut (2013 Golden Era Records Cypher)

Lyrics

[Host Commentary: Vents (Trials)] Yeah, yeah, wassup Trials (Coolin') Coolin'? (Coolin') Next up we got the whole crew on the one song with the newest member of the team, (K21.) Wassup man, welcome aboard. We gon' do it like this one time for mind. In the house: Golden Era! [Verse 1: Briggs] Not even Jesus crossed the G.E. squad Sacrifice ma'fuckers to appease the Gods Couple brothers on the screen, not a scene from Cops Get punched in your face when the peace is off: Lebron Carry the Heat, gimme a beat that knocks Embarrassing defeat, in the street with Crocs I'm off everything, that's no weed or grog I'm not DMX (What?!), I'll feed your dogs You're not fit to kick the tires on my ride, but Here's the keys, now park it when I arrive It's a shake down like Parkinson's on the mind I'ma break down the barriers when I'm inside Smack the actor [?] on sight Just a matter of fact, just a matter of time Maybe better than him, you're not better than I Better batten the hatch 'fore I batter your eyes [Scratches: Adfu] "Ask your friends who's the illest Who's—Who's—Who's—Who's the illest Ask your friends who's the—who's the illest" "Who—Who the illest? We all know the answer to that" [Verse 2: Vents] Yo I've been living in the circus with clowns in the fast-food service I'm 'bout to drop from my last two burgers Every man alive on the Earth need a purpose 'Cause without that we hopeless, concerned with that Which lack depth, that which lack virtue The plastic, the cosmetic, that which'a hurt you That which you turn to in times of need To forget about the fact we designed to bleed Blow weed from the seeds in the sheep manure Ask yourself, "What's the reason you breathin' for?" We both the same, no time for emotional pain Soak the plant in disposable flame I'm like an animal that travel on the toughest terrain Fucking insane is what I became, nuttin' to gain But the lot and nuttin' to lose but the plot Golden Era in the place, getting loose in the spot, what? [Scratches: DJ Reflux] "Ask your friends who's the illest" "Who the illest? We all know the answer to that" [Verse 3: Trials] Hey It's the Golden Era, you couldn't fold a feather Tough guy, I'll punch you in the face when my shoulder's better That's never, yet I still burn the sucker down to ashes Before you pour your first water buckets out ([?]) We are classic like Newman in Jurassic Running back to his Jeep with his face full of acid Two-thousand-three when the step-daddy entered (hello) Top on my bucket list is 'Met Larry Emdur' (hello) Storm Boy drunk off that pelican blood Screaming "Amitriptyline's a fuckin' hell of a drug" I'm gettin' live in the foyer, Trials the destroyer Said "It's all good" like I'm Heisenburg's lawyer Yo, yeah, they want that Hell level impact? My rhymes are heavyweight like putting bricks in the bin bag Trigger, Gumby even catching the ball Third rapper on the track, but least fashionable, woah [Verse 4: Hons] So it's two-thousand-thirteen, unlucky for some Unless you run with Golden Era then you doubling up You see, the rap game change, you get punished for your laziness When album cycles life's too short like Warwick Davis' Never here to make a mint (no) Shit, the only one I prolly see is on my pillow when I go vacationin' Oar's been patient, over ten years into rap Long time comin' like you double strapped the jimmy hat Gimme that beat, let me get in the mood I scribble down some dumb shit like a drunk tattoo See we got Reflux and Adfu, DJ Debris Add seven deadly sins, one for each MC Golden Era motherfucker, we the cream of the crop But X and T smoked past so I'ma finish it off Now that's classic, you wanna bring it with that rap shit? Man, you goin' down like the hat went backwards [Verse 5: Sesta] It goes one for the money, nobody for the love it And your only friend want a cut of it, man You're not the problem, just a part of it and It's very obvious like making love for the fuck of it They say that imitation greatest form of flattery But actually it's not (no?), I'm just taking the piss But when I'm seventy I bet I'm living all my dreams: In the day getting faded playin' Fallout 3 See, I'm here to show you suck on the beats And deconstruct your fucking beliefs Before I'm leavin' I'll be needin' to be teachin' the kids That religion not bad, but belief in it is, uh Golden Era, give you the golden shower You cower, it's how you're dealing with real power Turn the Tower of Babel to rubble fuckin' with me See ya, anybody is never trouble to me, fuck 'em [Scratches: DJ Debris] "Ask your friends who's—who's—who's the illest Ask your friends who's—who's the illest Who's the—who's the—who's the—who's the illest" [Verse 6: Pressure] You're rollin' with the most dangerous squad With the mic and turntable on lock 'Cause man, we lacin' our creations like there's traces of rock If I had a day for every hater that tried takin' my spot I'd have more time on my hands than the face of a clock Golden Era's like a rush to the brain, a runaway train We cut the breaks, run astray, hunger and pain Don't fuck with the game if you too afraid of touchin' the flame 24 carat pure, sucker, what's in a name? If Heaven is a place on this Earth then I been on the wrong Highway to Hell and [?] the stage is my church Only thing they hold sacred's what I say in a verse Until Suffa gets 'em naked as the day of my birth I make it home, another wonder unravels Debris surfin' porn channels, Suffa's huntin' for samples I got more kids tying me down than fucking Gulliver's Travels So tie it up, I put my nuts in a landfill [Verse 7: Suffa] Check, ayy Tell Vents, "take the backpack off" It's time to smack these wack rappers' snapbacks off You better ba—back off, jack-off (Fuck off), I'm a Jack of All trades and when I blaze I crack black off The vinyl, find all the platinum hidden under it God is in the building, spitting from the mothership Hovering and killing all these bothersome civilians When we drop in from the ceiling, man, they're hollering and squealing (Come on) Hilltop Hoods for the children like Ol' Dirty at the Grammy's Haters take a seat, see I prefer that they can't stand me See we show 'em skill, son Don't get your nose outta joint like Owen Wilson Go at the Hill's, son, I laugh at ya I got lines like Debris in the bathrooms at the ARIA's We wacky, yes, we said it, so it's never said and done Now let me get it to the newest G.E. member, 21 [Verse 8: K21] Freshest to death, son, and [?] until the record's spun Let 'em run from these infected lungs and a propeller tongue Wish 'em the best of luck before I shred 'em up 'Cause in a second I send 'em nuts, so you better be ready when I come And wreck the function, I'm a beast with a curse Next to bless the drum, yet another sheep in the herd Demon since birth, speaking, I'm thirty-three-and-a-third The evilest, don't believe this? Then repeat in reverse I got venom like a Katipo, deadlier than Krokodil Smash a show, never will I stop until I top the bill Mister Mussolini's here to X 'em with the tantrum An ugly motherfucker, but abuela said he handsome Not rampant on the bassline, owe it to the late nights Call the kid, Sinatra, how I put your dreams away right From daylight, they try take my throne But we're the Golden Era, there's no better place like home And we out [Host Commentary: Vents (Trials)] You know what the fuck this is (go on, tell 'em). Yeah, that's it ladies and gents for the Golden Era Mixtape two-thousand-and-thirteen. We'll be back next year. Thanks for rocking with us. We hope you had fun, I had a lot of fun. Big shoutouts to Jaytee for putting this whole thing together. Shoutouts to Suffa. Shoutouts to Ben Martin down at the Golden Era offices. Shoutouts to Unity Sound & Visual for all their hard work. Shoutouts to DJ Debris Takeaway Studios. Shoutouts to Trials on the floor ([?]!) {Laughs} My name is Vents, peace! [Commentary: Decisive] Yo, what's up? My name is Decisive, transmitting live from Canada. Freezing Canada! Where it's always cold and freezing. Australians wouldn't know anything about that because it's always warm in Australia. And don't talk to me about "Oh, it's our winter now, so it's kind of cold." No. I don't know why you guys sell sweaters or hooded sweatshirts. What you call winter, we call summer. I don't know why I'm talking about weather. I should be talking about the Golden Era Records Mixtape. I should be talking about the Hilltop Hoods. I should be talking about the Funkoars. I should be talking about Vents, Briggs and K21. That's what I should be doing. But I won't because I'm against the grain, like hip-hop. That's the noise I make on hip-hop songs because being against the grain means you have your own noise and mine is-. It's like a dying hobo being woken up as he's dying. Golden Era, doing it big for 2013, y'all. Decisive out!