Briggs - The Underground (Suffa Remix) lyrics

[Verse 1: Suffa] We went from spitting jams to fifty fans in a little cramped room A shoebox you couldn't fit a shoe in to touring Switzerland with my man in a mini-van Being the man of the minute can happen in a minute man And it's funny, I've seen buddies that I trust turn away ‘Cause money can't buy you love but it can earn you hate And none of you gave a f** till the movement went large Now every crew is making music, every dude has got bars Now every half-arse bar fly up in the bar rhymes We sit about, spitting ‘bout the dark and the hard times But got perspective on the fighting for the crowns and the such When we encountered an old pal who had been down on his luck In some Volleys pushing trolleys eating soup from a tin My girl's like "golly, man these pollie's aren't improving a thing" Well swap your worries for some Bolly, swap your suit for some wings And fly with us, we light it up and it's a beautiful thing [Verse 2: Cla**ified] That's where I started at, the days of Walkmans and Starter hats The open mic nights mastering the art of rap We man-made, underground like an artefact We don't need to worry when the market crash I'm from the bottom, bottom of New Scotland Planted all my seeds watered them then watched it blossom Then they try to tell me over time we'd be forgotten, rotten Thinking that you're gonna keep me boxed in? Nonsense Hilltop and Cla** rock till your noggin's nodding You can walk in my shoes but never fit in my jeans I do this with no option till my body's old and rotten and exhausted Keep it going cause I'm living my dream Till the grave we'll spit the pain and, when it comes to picture painting We might be the illest rated with the visuals illustrated That's ill communication, therapy for life without the rehabilitation Keep waiting I'm about to blow up [Verse 3: Pressure] (The time is now for Pressure - Pressure MC, here it comes) We about to blow it up, but we all started this as amateur Carving out a path was a hardship for the traveller It said that raps a facade, you'll never manage it In these parts, I guess it's our scars that give us character We misfits and slackers, at risks kids or hackers With a wish list, sick of doing six shifts at Macca's From listeners to rappers, prestigious to hapless I don't need a gift to know that this sh** is backwards When we're done officially another visionary Will lights the flame, write their name in their sweat, blood and infamy It's gutter symphony f** the industry Let them come we're the ones carving history So we rhyme for the hurting, poor, hard working for International heard applaud to local suburban tour Y'all gave a purpose for the roar when the curtains draw Furthermore ask yourself what you're searching for? [Verse 4: Solo] (Without further ado, Kid Solo representing Horrorshow) Follow me to a place I like to go Liner notes are signposts to find that which lies below Born in eighty eight so I came in late To find for the first time in life I felt right at home Through the growing pains and hostile takeovers People trying to put us down like Beethoven We stayed strong and remained focused Until they had no other choice but to stand up and take notice Never thought what I wrote on a page back in the day Would ever have me catching a plane Or rapping up on a stage Staring out at the crowd in amazement Thinking back on the days when We were confined to the limitations of the basement The subterranean kids became the main event I pay respect to those who spent days laying foundations Countdown to detonation [Verse 5: Briggs] (Now, let me introduce you to) Briggs Take 'em back to day one So they can see where I came from Ain't nothing here; no scene so I made one The open mics, where I earned my stripes And I k** them every night till the motherf**ers paid off We honed sk**s, kept it no frills Pressed our own disks and made our own deals Put ourselves on with our own songs Plus [?] so tell me what's real I've seen countries and continents Hit a town where the concert is And they spell it with my vowels than consonants Never doubt the confidence, the talent's apparent And you can pirate my sh**, but I'm not talking to parrots I never thought I'd be gracing stages with Artists ripped from The Source's pages Rock shows with the squad, collecting payments But I do it 'cause I love it, don't get it mistaken, nah