Heard Of Us

[Hook]

"Put your hands high, ain't you heard of us

...I'm quite bad... but I shouldnt"

(Hyjak... Suffa... Torcha...)

[Verse 1: Pressure]

I like to make the vinyl bleed when I meditate to heavy breaks

Obsess over thought process until the letters make

There way to my palms, are sweaty, once I'm coming ready

I carve a deadly manuscript and rip past the petty

This man'll make them big shots look bent on weight

I came ahead of my time while others premature ejaculate

An addict of breaks and cuts, obsessed

I'm fucked unless I get a hit and spit til' theres nothing left

I spent my youth like bad credit, got nothing to show

If money was flow I'd be bawling all up in this bro

We got that rough shit, something straight up shit, with sick flows

Some beat around the bush like perverts looking in windows

While others rapping for the cash indoors, fasion awards

They lacking cords, we catching wreck with Jak n' Torch

You say your hard? I'mma laugh and raise my glass

Fuck and ego your only as dope as the listeners say you are

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Suffa]

You can find me in the hills but you don't try me on this shit kid

With rhymes that be filthy, and grimy like a dish pig

I rip gigs and spit if you think it's a joke

I'm like a mad digesting hash cookie (wha?)

My shit is dope!

Let's go twelve rounds and see who'se flows tighter

The only way you'd win is if I was your ghost writer, fuck

Who wrote your raps and who'se taking your crew places

Man you look retarded, who tied your fucking shoe laces?

Suffa ain't no sucker, fucker

Cook up beats like Jamie Oliver, pucka

Structure, form man

Fuck the, norm man

Suffa, born and rough like porn

And I spit lyrics like water mealon seeds

Slaughter red emcees

Cos I thought of enemies

Any reason, season, please man

Three sixty five, it's three sixty degrees

And you don't quit

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Hyjak]

I ain't scared of dying or being missed

But I'm afraid as fuck of being deceased with a techno DJ making my remix

And having him beat mix at every rave and show he hear

Dig myself out of my grave and beat him with his own clothes stick

Don't give a shit if you can spin backwards on canvas

I don't give a fuck about these rap dancers

Damn I'm sorry boys I don't know how to say this

I think I ruined our chance of being on the Nova playlist (oh no!)

Play this if you love getting wasted destroying stuff

Mic snatching off Guy Sebastian using his head as a toilet brush

These boys bustin' out the rubbish like Oscar the Grouch

Wish the Crocodile Hunter stuck a sock in his mouth (Crikey!)

I might be slightly unbalanced

I'm wrestling lesbians because I like the challenge

Til' a crew of dykes surrounding me with knives and hammers

I nailed em' all together sold em' to IKEA as a cabinet. wha!

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Torcha]

I'm hopeless can't focus my intelligence, see

I play them pokies hoping for five elephants, we

Rather smoke this tree than try sellin' it, please

Just provoke this team and I'll settle it, geez

Don't worry 'bout me bro

Won't sell my soul that's degrading

I'm Torcha I hold my own like I'm masterbating

Not masquerading like puppets and writers for nother

Got married last summer

But I'm still fucking a stunner

Crews only step up if they drunk lots of liquor

Now thats dumb enough then ask your dealers for an odds on ticker

I used to pill pop til' my life fell off the hilltop

But still rock, ya feel it (ahhh!) - my mic is still hot

Better hope you still drop

In this profession we medicine

Got everyone stressing, reaching for anti-depressing medicine

Some editors veterans testing us at a show

I'll put you in the nosebleed section while your in the back row