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Artist: Hilltop Hoods f/ Classified, Solo (Horrorshow)
Album:  Drinking from the Sun
Song:   The Underground
Typed by: newos_crib_is@hotmail.com

[Suffa] + (Pressure)
We went from, spitting jams to, fifty fans in a little cramped room
A shoebox you couldn't fit a shoe in, to touring
Switzerland with my man in a minivan
Being the man of the minute can happen in a minute man
(And it's funny) I've seen buddies that I trust turn away
cause money can't buy you love, but it can earn you hate
And none of you gave a fuck till the movement went large
Now every crew is making music, every dude has got bars
Now every half-ass bar fly up in the bar rhymes
We sit about spitting bout the dark and the hard times
(But got perspective) on the fighting for the crowns and the such
When we encountered an old pal who had been down on his luck
in some volleys pushing trolleys, eating soup from a tin
My girl's like, golly, man these pollies ain't improving a thing
Well swap your worries for some Bolly, swap your suit for some wings
and fly with us, we light it up and it's a beautiful thing

[Chorus 2X: Mama Cass "California Earthquake" sample]
"I heard they exploded, the underground
 They say it's gonna happen, the underground"

[Classified] + (Suffa)
Where at? Huh?
Uh, that's where I started at, the days of Walkmans and starter hats
The open mic nights, mastering the art of rap
We man-made, underground like an artefact
We don't need to worry when the market crash
I'm from the bottom, bottom of New Scotland
Planted all my seeds, watered them, then watched it blossom
They they try to tell me over time we'd be forgotten, rotten
Thinking that you're gonna keep me boxed in? Nonsense
Hilltop and Class' rock till your noggin nodding
You can walk in my shoes, but never fit in my jeans
I do this with no option till my body's old and rotten
and exhausted, keep it going cause I'm living my dream
(Till the grave we'll spit the pain and) when it comes to picture painting
we might be the illest rated with the visuals illustrated
That's ill communication, therapy for life without the rehabilitation
Keep waiting, I'm about to blow up

[Chorus 2X]

[Pressure]
We about to blow it up, but we all started this as amateur
Carving out a path was a hardship for the traveller
Huh, said that rap's a facade, you'll never manage it
In these parts, guess it's our scars that give us character
We misfits and slackers, at-risk kids or hackers
with a wish list, sick of doing six shifts at Macca's
From listeners to rappers, prestigious to hapless
I don't need a gift to know that this shit is backwards
When done officially, another visionary
will light the flame, write their name in their sweat, blood and infamy
It's gutter symphony, fuck the industry
Let them come, we're the ones carving history
So we rhyme for the hurt and poor, hard work and for
international, heard applause, to local suburban tour
Y'all gave a purpose for the roar when the curtains draw
Furthermore, ask yourself what you're searching for

[Solo]
Follow me, to a place I like to go
Liner notes are signposts to find that which lies below
Born in '88 so I came in late
to find for the first time in life I felt right at home
Through the growing pains and hostile takeovers
People trying to put us down like Beethoven
We stayed strong and remained focussed
till they had no other choice, but to stand up and take notice
Never thought that what I wrote on a page back in the day
would ever have me catching a plane, or rapping up on a stage
Staring out at the crowd in amazement, thinking back on the days when
we were confined to the limitations of the basement
The subterranean kids became the main event
I pay respect to those who spent days laying foundations
Countdown to detonation

[Chorus 2X]