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letra de gemstones - brad strut

[intro: bob balans]
yeah
bob f-ckin’ 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 sh-t’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 f-ckin’ car money
your whole sh-t’s so fast, we in a different class
and smash toys like a brat back in kindergarten
sh-t, i’m starvin’, scroungin’ the floor for scr-ps
you a silver spoon and born with it all in your lap
but this is raw rap where sh-t’s hard to earn
you wanna, c-cksucker, 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 c-nt)
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 bullsh-t, 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 sh-t, 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 motherf-ckin’ 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!

- brad strut

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