[Intro: 360 & [?]]
"Take you down to fuckin' Ringwood Station and belt ya fuckin' head in with an axe pipe ya cunt"
Hot diggity (yo, people don't even realise)
Forthwrite, homeboys
I'm wearin' an ankle sock on my balls
[?] nice, so that way it sort of just, just cups under [?]
[Verse 1: 360]
Ayo, Sixty's in the building, and I spit some shit you feel
[?] leavin' peeps in perfect health in a critical condition
It's the limited edition, I write my rhymes
In the projects and change my name to Lyrical Commission
Ha! You all get it, you know when Sixty hits the rhythm
'Cause all the clothes that I rock I bought from This Is It in Richmond
I sit and listen, when I flip the sickest spittin'
Like Weapon X and Ken Hell, I live for kicks and women
A binger with the bitters, drinkin' gin and flippers
Writin' lyrics with a system with a Liquor Switch in mixtures
With rims witnessing, my spit is blinging wicked, yo
I shift 'em in from England, they're the prince's rings but twisted
And when it comes to chattin' chickies, shit is wicked
God, I need some moisturiser 'cause my fist and lips are blistered
I'm sick of zinging, so I spit some shit, concealing
How I'm gifted with the lyrics, throwing dicks up in your missus
Bitches
"Take you down to fuckin' Ringwood Station and belt ya fuckin' head in with an axe pipe ya cunt"
Hot diggity (yo, people don't even realise)
Forthwrite, homeboys
I'm wearin' an ankle sock on my balls
[?] nice, so that way it sort of just, just cups under [?]
[Verse 1: 360]
Ayo, Sixty's in the building, and I spit some shit you feel
[?] leavin' peeps in perfect health in a critical condition
It's the limited edition, I write my rhymes
In the projects and change my name to Lyrical Commission
Ha! You all get it, you know when Sixty hits the rhythm
'Cause all the clothes that I rock I bought from This Is It in Richmond
I sit and listen, when I flip the sickest spittin'
Like Weapon X and Ken Hell, I live for kicks and women
A binger with the bitters, drinkin' gin and flippers
Writin' lyrics with a system with a Liquor Switch in mixtures
With rims witnessing, my spit is blinging wicked, yo
I shift 'em in from England, they're the prince's rings but twisted
And when it comes to chattin' chickies, shit is wicked
God, I need some moisturiser 'cause my fist and lips are blistered
I'm sick of zinging, so I spit some shit, concealing
How I'm gifted with the lyrics, throwing dicks up in your missus
Bitches
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