Another World Lyrics by Hilltop Hoods

  • Album Release Date: 2001
  • Features : {Koolism}

[Verse 1: Koolism]
You dirty rat, talking shit tryna send me back
To hell from where you came from, you sing that same song
Every time I hear you, sounds like you off of ya flame
Plus you drink too much beer too
Your queer crew aren’t shit neither
A bit eager to get a kid beat up
With the blunt side of a machete
It’s my cut side that’s so upsetting
Letting off steam like tough equation streams
It be ya dreams, getting ripped at the seams
Harsh as the words from a biblical fiend
Cussing out the evil in you
It’s amazing what evil people will do
To get the chance to dance and swing with the king
Shine without the bling bling
But these boys can’t understand cause it’s a Koolism thing, see?
Single-handedly, or even if I’ve got my uncle down with me
We’re taking out your whole family
From nephews, to second cousins, to your old bitch
To your half brother, down to your gold fish (oh ish)
You understanding me? Cause it’s hunting season
And I’m picking them off your family tree like
One by one, two by two, the almighty Koolism crew
The who is who of Aussie Hip Hop
While I’m a sick cunt, you’re just a sick cock
In a piss trough so piss off
[Verse 2: Suffa]
Emcees think they’re too deaf to hear what I’m telling ’em
But they can’t see me like tattoos on melanin
I’m large like Van Halen in the 80s
Ladies I love, ladies can’t step, bitches
Cut the track till it requires stitches
Like fruit fly in citrus, I’m ill-tech like Tetris
Distort through other’s skill and see what my vocal fetches
I give open lectures in the park under Wattle trees
Until a fight sparks and someone’s baptised by the bottle we
Try chill but it bothers me that violence always erupts
The crowd’s feeling me like a pair of perfect D cups
Yo, we up in here like last year’s out of here
The hoods are up, in here till we tired or out of beer
And we represent it, like the sword and the snake
And we staying independent like a ward of the state
Yo, I’m-bored-of-the-fake, hi fake! Named Suffa, pleased to meet ya
I live inside the mind of the listener through the speaker
“Is that your beeper?” No it’s my phone, I got it on-beeper-and-vibrate
I rocks it for my people till my +People’s+ pupils +Dilate+
Yo, why hate? Those on top, I’m coming from the bottom
Cut the track to my man who comes and puts the pressure on ’em!

[Verse 3: Pressure]
I look emcees in their eyes and ask ’em what they think’s wrong with this rap scene
And what their lacking, thinking that here I got their vaccine
I’m wavering from their battering with the slip of my mix
Think they can battle with headphones until they listen to this!
Kicking the hits, the Hoods and Koolism, I’m serious this
Is guaranteed to get some head nod till you slip into diss
So persist with a diss! Man you believe it?
But they aren’t even half-stepping, nah man they more like paraplegic
I rock ’em till they cease and keep it rough when get fucked when
I leave ’em scarred so hard they wouldn’t heal if Jesus touched them
The rough blend like masturbating with a cheese grater
The emcee breaker, never been a faker, please I’m greater!
By any means I make the track pound
Whether that be taking your integrity and exposing, yeah that’s wack sound
Back down! Pressure got you where your caught, end it Suffa, swerve!
Step into the cipher, it’s another world

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