Hilltop Hoods - The Certificate lyrics

The certified have arrived, extraordinaire extravagant Beers like confidence, man I'm drinkin' until I'm arrogant Cause I'm a co*ky f**, Hit your girl and I knock her up Girly what the f**? In the net like a hockey puck. (score!) Rappers get embarra**ed when they see the way that we work They try hard to (sherm) like fat guys swimming in T-shirts Research your Oz hip-hop, before you step to us And if you step, hands around your throat like a necklace Missed the drum, young ladies gimme a call My number's written next to f**wit on the Chicks bathroom wall I'm slightly easy and a try bit sleazy With the wit of a red brick and chiselled body of Kim Beazley My theory is, never touch the mic quite serious A kid goes out on dates later than their next period My crews got it made, rockin the place With more dope rappers to match every branch here to colonnade It's Certified Wise, no need to tell you again Because these c*nts can be so funky that the smell would offend A dyke's girlfriend dog, now lets get straight to the point shall we This rowdy crowd of MC's and DJ's know how to pound beats Like kids with flat feet and crap beats walking down backstreets So much work went into this to line the notes of fact sheets Like black sheep I've got two words for those who slept (nya, Nya nya nyoooo) You thought it was safe, well guess what (what?) Boys then beware; my friends will find your weak points (then what) Get up in there. Attack your mind, with a fine rhyme when I find time And I'll find out that you're walking if you're talking the grape vine I'll waste time. Need to take on the job at hand. The sk**s for this profession typical certified wise man From Sky to land, I'm overcoming all your schemes and plans So take cover as I rain thunder upon you man Every songs a collection of kids charmed lives Like the p**n section of gary glitters hard drive Certified Wise throws a jam thats so hot it'd Make a married man give up his annual bl**job You better show somethin, with headin no bluffin On the wrong side of my tracks, I'll smash your petticoat junction In a suffering city, I'm punishing the pretty And if you dont f**ing feel me I'll crush you without pity I arrange certain words amongst silence To be heard in abundance while MCs face redundance Stereo speakers exceed beyond specifications Through extended noise generation Let's cut the conversation to a small chat (why's that?) I'm busy trying to react to the hi-hat Blockade and certified stand tall above ridiculous under-achievers And constant non-believers I'm on stage with a handful of panadols handin them out Cos of the head throbbin from the head noddin And we about puttin you out for the count like mic check, You aint gonna get certified respect So hide your decks, ya mics I might blackout In a cypher when I still take the title The name's Sesta, I snatch an L plate and slap it on your forehead With more force than p**ns** --unfinished--