• 28 Days
• 1208
• Blueprint

ride the train and it takes me back
to the days when Frankston was our line
I used to live for getting up man
killing trains just to kill the fucking time
don't get me wrong
I was true to the graf scene
travel miles just to rack I was so keen
I also was a hip hop b boy to boot
used to write my name while you'd commute
shove our paint inside our
coats you know we'd
never pay for shit
kleptomaniac to fund another
paint attack window down
whole car lay up hit
a one track mind is
what I had bombing trains
is all I thought about
we'd stay in places you
wouldn't believe just
to kill the suckers inside and out
so many writers had my
respect so def with a
can put those toys in check
dma/ac/wca/camecorrect ci boys
fucking shit up in effect
but my crew holds the fondest of memories
ci brothers still fucking shit up
with new school and old
with Melbourne pride and always will
PRIDE AND ALWAYS WILL

i see the tables turning
they turn with speed
i watch the fire burning
burning to the sea
i heard a holy story
i laughed out loud
a man who chases the wind
never should be proud
they can always find a way
to pull you down
make you feel so small invisible
another sent to take the final part of me
give me my lesson for today, (i can't hear you)
fill me with hope and quickly betray
when i am barely breathing
they come for me
i wish i never saw them
walk all over me
they can always find a way to pull you down
make you feel so small invisible
another sent to take the final part of me
give me my lesson for today, (i can't hear you)
fill me with hope and quickly betray
it's my fault
i should have never trusted
it never fails
to bring me down
so hear me out
always busted
you got yours
guess i got mine
your high score
my waste of time
give me my lesson for today, (i can't hear you)
fill me with hope and quickly betray
give me my lesson for today, (i can't hear you)
fill me with hope and quickly betray

Uh-huh, yeah
Printmatic, you know the name
Behind the curtain like the Hunchback of Notre Dame
I'll steal the show, then your dame
This nigga down like dropping off in the pouring rain
My mind stays stuck on filth
Black cheerleaders ain't trying to fuck a mill
It's only cause I got your moms on tilt
You found out it wasn't toothpaste on her quilt
Sue me, I told you that you sorry
But Billy Blanks got you thinkin' that you know Karate
I need to know I play matchmaker as a hobby
I can introduce speed knots, to your body
You wanna playa hate, we can take it back to '88
My catelogue's an epilogue dog, all can set tapes
And I hope to god you're a scholar
Cause before I test your rhymes I'm a test your knowledge
Crush any attempts to act brolic
You the kinda dude I used to lift up in college
Hands around you, fucked like a dome collar
Over some small shit like 50 dollars
You don't want that dude to come outside again
For real... You better stay in the pocket
Uh huh, yeah... hah
I used to be a purist
About the records I've been coppin'
Don't nobody care about that shit unless the beat knocks
Sometimes I'm on some bassline, 808 shit
Now I'm on some old dirty drum-break shit
No denyin'
Most people listen to their music while they're drivin
So the next time you think you got a classic
Throw it all around and listen to it in some traffic
Make sure you roll the windows down
Be honest about yourself about how your shit sounds
Life would be better if more people did that
I wouldn't have to wait through demo's full of crap
Too many wack rappers fuckin' up the game
Too many independant acts sounding the same
Poppin' shit on the net to get a name
Give props to eachother, sit around and complain
Your whole philosophy is flawed when your top 10
Is full of cats you know, and nobody that I heard before
I need to understand I'm not new to this
You are for 2 bars I know all your influences
And ain't none of them tight
You all need to put down the fuckin' mic
Sounding corny shit..