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hilltop hoods – old school rap (500 ft) lyrics

[intro]
shoutouts: cam bluff
sixfour music
hilltop
check, ayy

[verse]
live from the home of the serial k!ller
i’ve been writing at home nuh—nearly all winter
but now the sun’s up, i’m sun tzu, jump through your sunroof
belly full of fire and a mouth full of f-ck you!
i grab my nuts like i’m 2pac
with his finger up for the cops that were looking for him
you grab your nuts like you’re 2pac
after he got shot in the crotch (nah, mean?) like you’re looking for ’em
a pair in my pants like some cannonb-lls
rest ’em every night like some apples in a salad bowl
have ’em all bouncin’ off the walls like playing racquetball
riding on the back of an elephant like i’m hannibal
f-ck with me, watch them look up to me
physically i’m six-two, lyrically i’m ten foot
half-court inking man: phil jackson
hardcore hip-hop fan: bill paxton
return of the lyricist: d.o.c
i’m a whirlwind pyramid, p.o.d:
prince of darkness, a heartless g.o.d
i spit the hardest, so f-ck you, like cee lo green
they can’t see this hood
we been around too long to not be this good
you got sixteens and a pristine hook?
i got one-sixtys, i’m feeling like i’m fifteen foot
a punk think he got bars that can leave me shook?
i’ma jump in front his car and i’ma beat his hood, pause!
why the seedy looks?
they wanna throw me on the fire, cover me with soot, ’cause
i’m a heretic, come play
and i never did ever get why apparently some say
‘only god can judge me’, are none of them aware
of the fact god is dead? (there’s nothing to be scared of)
and i don’t mean to offend
it’s an opinion, you and me, man, we don’t need to be friends
we don’t need to pretend, you really need to be zen
when we’re both in a world we know life can easily end
and i’ma burn already, so don’t pray for me
if you were already, hey sorry
cause if there really is a h-ll
then you’ll see me sitting in my citadel
with my fellow infidels spitting tales
until the world burns and upper cl-ss am-ss troops
and we have to make our merch out of hazmat suits
i’mma smash mad loops
in a pair of fresh filas looking like a meth dealer in a phat tracksuit
this is mad max 2
this is afghan poppy
we give you a piece of our minds like a lobotomy
a ragtag group
not making hashtag rap, man we crash that coup
strong as afghan hash, and that’s fact
suffa’s coming back and bringing what they say the fact is
cause they got us f-cking captured
in some chains, b.a baracus
i pity the fool
that doesn’t know the burb’s a cl-ssroom, the city a school
this is forest whitaker, as idi amin
the role of my life, bruce lee kicking kareem
my roll of the dice, game of death nothing to prove
it’s kareem in some lakers sweats dunking on bruce
…uh
watch on, how the crowd is moving
the cloth i’m, cut from, is the shroud of turin
i walk the clouds, i’m touring
i’m the breeze atop whirlpools
stumble through a field drunk, leave a crop circle
so trust me, when i say it’s absurd
‘cos i’m an emcee, i literally give you my word
and my word’s true
can’t be displaced man, it’s burn proof
not a leap of faith like suicide from a church roof
work through my anger like d-ck cheney on a hunt
then reverse the first letters like hick dheney is a…
never mind, you’ll never take this kid like, ever man
like, you’d never let your kids ever stay at neverland
i’m not mr. everyman, i’m every man but him
and i’m only getting younger like i’m benjamin b-tton
now isn’t that something
the lovable type of fool
like don draper banging all the girls in the t-tle
or maybe i’m dis-likable, singing old folk ballads
or maybe i’ll disgust the world like child star c0ke habits
world star dope addicts
corrupt cops with maglites
rob ford sucking on a crack pipe like bagpipes
what a beautiful day
to put the bottle to my mouth and wash the music away
cause i’m obsessed with the rhyme like i’m stalking an ex-girl
and express what’s on my mind, never walking on egg sh-lls
[?] give me call
i got a job for you, feeling like i’m fifty feet tall
b-lls to the wind, f-ck the madness and politics
with what i bring i got more gall than asterix and obelix
i’m not a rap hobbyist
committed as a communist
storming the winter palace, sprinting through the corridors
kicking round the bourgeois for spitting on the commoners
or turn entire continents to empires, like romulus
stage is centre florida, god’s waiting room
i’m stage diving from the monitors, ‘cos gosh god’s waiting too
don’t know what to say to you, don’t even know what day it is
i’ll bring the world to the brink like a f-cking bay of pigs
it is what i say it is, no chorus, so you oughta know
scored so many plaques, they oughta put me on that h–rder show
lay off player, and watch the lay-up bro, you sorta slow
it’s the play-offs, you are 0 and 4 and i am 4 and 0
is that understood?
you guys are g-ssed up, you’re under hoods
i’ll make your girl superst-tious, she’ll feel like touching wood
see if she can grip it, cause i feel like i’m a hundred foot
come to put my middle finger to the world like sputnik
aware of the hood, then you’re wearing my footprint
you’ll never see the hood blink
if my eye closed it only means that you been hoodwinked
i need to catch my breath
before i’m the first rapper to rap to death
bad boy bubby, i’ll rap these cats to death
then collapse the set, like factories in bangladesh
bang the pads, like bangladesh, your girl’s fresh
girl’s banging, take her home to bang the flesh
i’m bruce banner, bang my chest, you wouldn’t like me
when i’m angry and you ain’t see my anger yet, check
since i been signed, i’ve been on my grind
picking my mind apart and
living inside my heart man
i need breath
configuring lines, and sipping on wicked
stick in a spine[?]
considering my position it’s like
it’s like i been blessed
or cursed. i sit at a shrine
considering life
like give me a sign
like when will it shine
i’m sick of the fight
i’m sick in the mind, that’s to death
i’m living inside
my fit and i’m livid and sipping on wine
bigger than life
to this and why i’m so[?]
that will be left
once i’m dead and gone and never to re-sp-wn
bury me, with heavy d blaring through the pouring
rain. while the wind is roaring through the awnings
but until the mourning, every morning
i’ll be sipping on my juice at the crack of the dawn then
i’m gonna pace around the church
looking for that lucifer, son of the morning
then i’m gonna chase him outta earth
(i’m not done hau)
cause i’m here to put my foot down
feeling like we about a hundred fifty foot now
we good now, your whole d-mn crew’s blowing me
so go at me, man you’ll be on the lamb like rosemary
the more the merrier, i got an extraordinary team
while your team’s just extra ordinary, lordy me
your crew’s like the who’s who of who’s that
while my crew’s like the juice crew of new rap
i’m a boom-bap revivalist, few that could rival us
i’m 2pac in a do-rag, a true rap survivalist
bottled water, canned food, crawling through the bamboo
on the corner stand true, what the slaughter can do
i feel like, the leshan statue of buddha
cause i’m godlike, at peace and like a two hundred footer
so if you want to put a, hand at me, i’ll happily
put a foot up in ya, have you looking like a manatee
i make all these tracks cause i’m a family man
see these two cats behind me, they’re like family, man
and if you find a crew that’s done so, well by their peers
then i’m f-cking dumbo bro, i’m all ears
i’m starting to get tired
but i’m like stringer bell third season man, starting to get wired
i’m the golden calf, f-ck every spitter on earth
i’ll fold the continent in half and make sydney kiss perth
make the earth touch the sun, and turn the sun into cinders
i’ll crush the milky way between my thumb and my finger
i’m the sum of my choices, a tongue for the voiceless
a solar flare sent from the sun to destroy us
i’m everything and nothing, the alpha and omega
with the hubris of judas, dude i’m heartless as vader
i’m pesticide in mountain dew
pennywise, clowning you
i’m five hundred feet f-cking tall looking down on you
what?

- hilltop hoods lyrics

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