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Giddy up slut yeah you a bad bitch
All these rappers act a part call them Brad Pitt
Oh no here he goes again
I flow dope f*ck you up like some opium
We in Sydney bitch, chilling up in C-Town
Bitches knock me back in school, I guarantee they're keen now
Tell 'em f*ck off, I got money to make
Me and Nebs equal cash that is something you ain't
So let's journey through the mind of a sick cunt
Dollar signs inside my eyelids, no I won't slip up
Every time I blink now, you know how I think
Walking in the club behind the bar and grabbing a drink, bitch
Day to day with the ABK
They want me banned in Queensland like I'm Lazy Grey, ayy
Top charts yeah, that's what we does
Number one motherf*cker ain't no stopping us bruz

This the jam this the one where you break shit
This the one where you're f*cking on ya mate's bitch
This the one that ya gonna do a stretch for
So play this song as your plea when you step in court
This the jam this the one where you break shit
This the one where you're f*cking on ya mate's bitch
This the one that ya gonna do a stretch for
So play this song as your plea when you step in court

I'm so fresh, no expiry date
Getting interviews they ask me what it's like to be great mate
I can't explain, its the way I was born
Your bitch four finger deep keen on making the porn
Raw
It's what I am never toning it down
If they beef with me, I guarantee they won't be around
Got nearly every Aussie rapper mad, screaming in mics now
Throw in the f*cking towel tell these faggots to lie down
Kers one, I'm getting stupid with money
Best producer in the country got ya dancing getting funky
What they do for a chance on a Nebs beat
Tell 'em ten K, another ten they can get me
On a hook, hitting notes so high
Everything I drop, they buy
So smashed eyes red and they half closed
Popping pills at my show hit the stage and pass low

Rappers act arrogant, it makes me sick
'Cause they bite the whole style from my latest shit
These days the weed blazed, walking down the freeway
Watching my clips and you stopping them to replay
I'm coming for your cash like a debt collector
And the blunts I puff smell like air freshener
In the brand new suit with a blue tie too
You don't know my crew you in two-five-two
What the f*ck is that? I make custom rap
And other rappers bite me but the cunts are wack
Plus Nebs got producers f*cking scratching their heads
We call 'em out I see em run like I'm cracking their necks
Album three in three years we going ten for ten
I'm looking out to your crowd it's only men, men
Talking 'bout the underground and how they keeping it raw
Motherf*cker please, I got more people waiting at an in store

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