Print

[Verse 1: Pressure] So many onlookers witness vibes, but never live that life So how they gonna start to run their mouths and criticise? About this culture that we give our lives, rap's a whore that's written Tried so many washed up sounds on any given tide Openly B-Boy's sympathise, but never live tonight They couldn't give a fuck whether this rap culture will live or die The common question given's 'Why? ', I looked at different skies See that it's the same fame that will face seas and glittering eyes So all these distorted views, so called important news Headlines are [? ] crews, but really mate, FUCK what they thought of you Busting your gut for poor reviews, to open doors and muse So people talk of you like Waterview to discard you like a whore that's used It's sorts ya bruised with not much more to lose, dignity torn in two The massive bill you've fought it through, more tries, more like that score that you You see all the public's point of views, built on distorted news Stereotype to the point they don't know who they're talking to [Hook: Pressure (Suffa)] (A B-Boy, the force in my soul is sonic) "Distortion, distortion" (A B-Boy, the force in my soul is sonic) "Distortion, distortion" I hear the beat (Hear the beat) I feel the vibe (Feel the vibe) I smell the sweat (Smell the sweat) SongtexteI see the pride (See the pride) Get to taste (Get to taste) Fame and fortune (Fame and fortune) There lies uncluttered (Uncluttered) "Distortion" [Verse 2: Pressure] I'm an Aussie B-Boy! Yeah just another decoy Sent to un-fill my world so they can destroy They dig foundations that we employed, yet steady being devoid Of propaganda that many seem to enjoy Helpless, selfless careers take a path, although they're faint in heart The media attention they receives enough to make a start The image hardly makes a start, although they're fake in heart Laying so much shit they never stay, it's time to take a bath Then they make the chart, but they'll never take the heart From a fabled art, too many B-Boy's awake and smart And even in my waking mark, the first negate the last But I swear on death that you will never catch me faking arse Public communions aim to spark, only flame my heart And wash over this culture like sulphur, over tainted glass Despite the grip of hate is fast, and this sedated grass Strangling the life from hip-hop so let's make it last [Hook] Aus Songtexte Mania