Hell Off the Highway

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Mog.Y

4:04

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 Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer

(Yuh)
Heavy hands in the bag
Shit I come when I’m ready
Your whole party gonna lag kid
Confession confetti
Maaan, Whatchu know about being buccaneers with Bill & Ted
Def bars until I meet my bogus end
Co-depend on anything I’m sucking on
Except promoters, they can take a fucking back to Bundalong
I’m punchin’ on
With all the voices in my noggin
Copping kidney kicks from Dopamine
Stick it to Seratonin (Mah Bredda)
Ya looking at the 69th ronin
Who blew through his whole bag and wants yours too
Yes – You
Who Knows Crew runnin’ the gauntlet
I’m fucking Gullyboy so paint a portrait
I’m rocking up to Play School
And looking through the windows
And all I see is dickheads
In every way the wind blows
I’m looking for the dingo that ate my motivation
But don’t you know depressed rappers run the fucking nation - man
I’m gleanin’ with lust, laying together
I’ll bust staying forever
I’m just saying
I’m dreaming in hell
I been in the buff, laying the letters
I’m done playin’ vendetta
I’m just saying
I’m dreaming in hell
Murder speech
Burn a while
Learn to cheat
Turn the dial
Earn a G
And we still don’t smile (Yuh)
And we still don’t smile
No we still don’t smile
My crew the grease
Slipping a unit ‘coz I’m prudent and discreet
Pull a luger on the beach
Put a cougar on the Eets and have the whole team swoonin’
Sorry brudda – miss me when I’m boonin’
And shot me when I’m cruisin’
Like some mans is so damn low
But they still about to 1-Up like its Ro-Sham-Bo
No run up
No credit
Loose speed and get deaded
That’s a 30 move a week from me
But don’t fret it
Doin’ rap soup kitchen for toys
We straight fed ‘em
Mog so dardy
Boots on a Maserati
Carpool in a coffin for cotching out at the party
and bun a farmers harvest of mbanje, then…
Re-Up on bubbles
Stay outta trouble
Get into trouble
Climb out the rubble
Dust off
22 Years stubble
Coz I don’t do rush jobs
And rock bottom called they want the fucking don back
Gully Tom Waits
Be on the Reeboks with the contact
Hoist that rag bredda
Bang my shit beyond the bad weather
Don’t take nothin’ from a bag sweater
Never buy a tape and they never caught a disc
But they still copping a ticket for the dick man
I’m tryna be a good guy
Rick Moranis
We left the business in panic
But these sabbaticals are making me manic
You rub a weak mob
Your bound to catch a splinter
I meant it when I said it that it’s gonna be a damn long Winter
(No Shit)
I meant it when I said it that it’s gonna be a damn long Winter
I’m gleanin’ with lust, laying together
I’ll bust staying forever
I’m just saying
I’m dreaming in hell
I been in the buff, laying the letters
I’m done playin’ vendetta
I’m just saying
I’m dreaming in hell
Murder speech
Burn a while
Learn to cheat
Turn the dial
Earn a G
And we still don’t smile (Yuh)
And we still don’t smile
Man we still don’t smile

 Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer