Rent Week Hilltop Hoods (Ft. Briggs, Funkoars & Vents (AUS))

[Verse 1: Trials]
We twist the lock like Ramirez: grab it and push
Dragging a foot like cavemen dragging a bush
No money, no rent, no way, no bed
Moved out, I’m on the couch, top to toe with the Vents
It’s drinking all week, it’s all of the money off the tour
It’s rinse and repeat, given the Oars dis' for the morgue
It’s spinning the beats drunk till sun like Gary Busey
Suck up and say “Babe”, till she’s saying “That’ll do pig”

[Verse 2: Vents]
There's Suffa in the city skip then I had a bad pinger
Now I’m in the gutter, fuckin' broke, puff a smoke from a Winnie Cigar
Rhyme my blow last, but a jug glass
Other lines of coke, give my liver time to soak
Bon Scott, kind of bloke, passed out in the car
I’m the son cast out from the farm
Hear this blast out from the calm like a child squealing
Pass the bottle, we could chase that feeling

[Chorus: Suffa]
I’m sorry that I’m drunk, I’m sorry that I went on
I’m sorry that I’m broke and that I spent all the rent
But that’s me and that’s all I’ll ever be
There’s some things, some things that I’ll never be
I’m sorry that I’m drunk, I’m sorry that I went on
I’m sorry that I’m broke and that I spent all the rent
But that’s me and that’s all I’ll ever be
There’s some things, some things that I’ll never be