The Return

Duck and cover, cos when you fuck with Suffa it's like the bombs dropped3
You spit like Bon Jovi, we spit like Bon Scott
We got it on lock, deadlock, non-stop, head-nod
Even when the song stop

Step in the cipher and it's danger
I'll set the Pressure on you like a hyperbaric chamber
And he don't fuck around, we've gained such renown
For this state of the art custom sound
For them custom built rappers with under skilled narratives
The good die young, me and Suff are still bad with this
Rhyme style it's lethal, prime time the sequel
Aint got a single fan just like minded people
I told you from the start, I'm a soldier of the art
Effortless, take every breath and hold it to your heart
With Debris and my brother Suffa, so watch another sucker run for cover
It's the return of the motherfucking motherfuckers

I don't give a goddamn, listen, I don't know
(How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid)
I don't give a goddamn (on the shows you did)
(How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid)
I don't give a goddamn, listen, I don't know
(How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid)
Mr. Debris (blow the horns on 'em, not now but right now)

Obsessive compulsive, repulsive, insulting
Offensive like feeding a vegan some dolphin
Assaulting the system, a system that's broken
The cistern is broken, the shit is just floating
I spit till your open underground
P-Dela-Ressure and he don't fuck around
Now Album number five, worked hard to earn that
No doubt it was a fight, too far to turn back
I step in the sun, take the weather however it comes
Although I'm a second son I'm second to none
Lesson is done, what goes around comes around
Suffa's down, and he don't fuck around
The Hood spits the news like Wolf Blitzer, crews
Fear the pit bull in the pulpit, yo it's the
World War Three in a whisper - the Mr Suffa
And Mr Pressure, we rips it rougher, we spits it fresher

I don't give a goddamn, listen, I don't know
(How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid)
I don't give a goddamn (on the shows you did)
(How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid)

Your nemesis on verses, the desperate and worthless
Try and flame the name we can wrestle in a furnace
Never came half-hearted, never came last started
Everyday like it's my last till my craft's mastered
And we can get it on
I'm at peace with myself cause there's a piece of myself in every song
I don't just write rhymes, I spent a life time building
A life line accommodating night times children
And now they love the sound, play me with a
Gravyspitter and he don't fuck around
Ain't no stepping to me
Cos P and Suffa bad mutha's like Treacherous Three
So feel the heartbeat, feel the heartbeat
You feel your hearts weak cos still you can't beat
The Hills and aren't we just still too rugged?
I can feel you love it, we the real blue blooded

I don't give a goddamn, listen, I don't know
(How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid)
I don't give a goddamn (on the shows you did)
(How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid)
I don't give a goddamn, listen, I don't know
(How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid)
Mr. Debris (blow the horns on 'em, not now but right now)