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certified wise – 13 mc’s and 3 dj’s lyrics

[verse 1: flak/fatface]
this goes out to those who question my sk!lls
i’m gonna sn-tch your mic like i used to sn-tch tills
i get you open quicker than a f-ckin’ dent puller
“can’t rhyme, can’t flow”, what’s your name? scott muller
my raps will f-ck you up and leave you in a daze
like macy gray, “i’m the latest craze”
plus my style is ill like the taste of [?] fat lace
[?] “it’s everlasting fat face”

[verse 2: flee]
for those unfamiliar i’m known as the flee
more renown for my gankin’ than a dope mc
the situation’s gonna change when i flex with a forty
and f-ck the sh-t up for this hardcore majority
of b-boys and b-girls, i’m a [?] lord
i’ma burn your tires like holden does ford
i’ve got more support than my mate kevin sheedy
i’ll spray your -rs- with my lyrical graffiti

[verse 3: suffa]
everybody make room, ’cause i’m the fattest here
oi, debris, are you sure that, um, fat face can’t hear?
during s-x i listen to this beat to c-m quicker
i can do the macy gray too, “yo, i kick a
rhyme and i choke
try to rep a style and i stumble
and though i try to hide it, it’s clear
my mind stopped working, i drank too much beer”

[scratches: dj debris]
“d motherf-cker, d motherf-cker” “debris”
“hot d-mn, i rip the rhythm up”
“d motherf-cker, d motherf-cker” “debris”
“debris”
“d motherf-cker, d motherf-cker” “debris”
“d-mn, i rip the rhythm up”
“d motherf-cker, d motherf-cker”
“debris”

[verse 4: kolaps]
progress is imminent, my process, different
relevance to elements, presence in sentence
elevate intercourse, superior exterior
penetrate and separate the planet you inhabit
kolaps, exhale lyrics like a fire-breather
butcherin’ mcs like a psycho with a meat cleaver
the information about the congregation, here’s the confirmation
cross bred kings for world domination

[verse 5: trauma]
it’s the culture of kings, collaborated talents
australia’s core for the underground balance
all swift in the style of lyrical amazement
proficient productions in any arrangement
serving severe extreme tracks, it’s vital
the mcs and djs who represent the t-tle
all australian, all artistically sk!lled
astonishing product produced and revealed

[verse 6: edits]
i’m representing after hours, certified wise
a culture of kings, we won’t observe your guidelines
abide by our rhymes, speak the signs of the time
read the liners, we design the kind of styles to blow your mind
[?] outside explode your show like c4
and cross-bred have got heads going like a seesaw
don’t need more mcs to reinforce preconceived thoughts
need to keep it real before you see more like timor

[scratches: dj jugular]

[verse 7: simplex]
tell me the feeling that you get
when my words shatter your thoughts
[?] to guard my metaphors from the mcs with a lesser cause
than originality, you wanna come and battle me?
i’m such a f-cking nice guy, even tell you my whole strategy
i’ll physically put you in a full body cast and [?]
[?] my writing my lyrics all over your f-ckin’ plaster
simplex is the name that’ll expose you as a b-tch [?]
that’ll explain why your girlfriend is a confused lesbian chick

[verse 8: raph al]
raph’s phat like the face as debris fills up the place
from the tracks in morse code, explode the terror in adelaide
the phrase catches atoms, now it’s splitting the electrons
confuse the laws of physics by the movement of the crowd reaction
their traction to the music’s like an addiction that you’re choosin’
[?] gone to the pub and boozin’
traumatise you after hours watchin’ kolaps [?]
[?] suffer under the pressure from the kings [?] culture

[verse 9: headlock]
sometimes i find myself wanting to have s-x with tracks
apply gst to mcs [?] the wrong tax
i want d-ckheads to have to pay more for their hats
life’s a b-tch and f-cking with her gave me an std
i did research, after hours found the cure for this disease
[?] cup with a group of sa’s illest mcs
in a monarchical country where the pm is incompetent
[?] southern kings reign supreme on the continent

[verse 10: integer]
if you can’t see the truth you must be blind from too much direct sunlight
when adelaide b-boys rock, you know it gets done right
every rhyme i rhyme’s tight to the point where my flow stun mics
and slam harder than b-ss kicks or when snare drum strikes
your sh-t’s so watered down you’re rockin’ styles only your mum like
[?] destroy your career in one night
there’s too many fake f-ckwits makin’ up stories, talking gun hype
but if you wish to challenge my crew then by all means come fight

[scratches: dj dyems]
“if you ain’t rockin’ raw, what you rockin’ for?”
“yeah”
“i give you the words, you know, the pasta and the salad bar”

[verse 11: blockade]
it’s time, i design my strategy to be irritating like an allergy
while my formality accepts stages, steps and lyrical reps
from the original mental, which is beneficial
my technology expands amongst lands like grains of sand
australian brand forever, never hesitant, this continent
will rock constant with this practical element
blockade’s hitting like a hammer with this grammar so i slam a
certain phrase, set the mic ablaze, call it technical programmer

[verse 12: pressure]
now, pressure came to set the measure as willing as ever
whether featherweight or heavy, step or put your hands together
for this like, not the next, that couldn’t stress me out
but watch me now, as i cast shadows of doubt
like a pessimist, dancin’ in a lunar eclipse
we took the best of this hip-hop scene and put ’em on riffs
they got suicidal tendencies, i tell ’em slit their wrists
’cause while their name was on my mind, my name was on their lips

[verse 13: dj debris]
debris came equipped with the new, not the same old sh-t
i rock mics and break beats and always aim to hit
every portion of your mind, many walk a thin line
while we live the culture of kings in our hearts and our minds
i make beats in my sleep that could still make you smile
give me a loop, i’ll a style, give me an inch, i’ll take a mile
but meanwhile, i stay on my feet, producin’ for my peeps
and by the way, you cats owe me for this beat

- certified wise lyrics

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