GOTTA LYRICS

VERSE 1
They call me stupid crazy
‘Cos I make music daily
I might be slightly loco
You checked my tunes out lately?
Some people call me BURD
Some people call me Brainy
I’ve got a way with words
Bruce Macavaney
Oh my god I’m a Lord
I was born on the floor of a four-door Ford
Parked on the lawn at the morgue on the corner
Quarter to 4 in the morning
It was morbid for sure
Awkwardly raw
Blunt hacksaw for the chord
Parked on the lawn at the morgue on the corner
Quarter to 4 in the morning
Wet ‘em up with my SuperSoaker
Dirty big grin like I’m new to poker
Burn one turn one I drew the joker
At around noon when I woke
I found my hope in a pound of dope
On a mountain slope
Where the heads at
Don’t forget I’m a expat
Came from the mainland
Raised on the left map

CHORUS

Every day that I wake up I gotta rhyme
Rendering waves in the cage takes a lotta time
Getting paid but not a slave to the dollar sign
I remain sane ‘cos I don’t stay for the bottom line
Old enough to know better
Young enough to not give a fuck
I don’t trust a go-getter
Motherfuckers will give you up
Ain’t gonna learn no lesson
Spend all my time spitting brah
THC and I’m reppin’
In the studio in the pub

VERSE 2 (Fusion)
Oi... Fuck off/
I don't fuck with you cunts and your love songs/
And if I'm drunk on the Bundy and Ruskov/
I'm coming for blood like her time of the month's hot/

Leaving these rapper's dreams in the ashes/
Each track I drop's like unleashing the Kraken/
I'm leading the pack with unbeatable passion/
And stronger spirit than Green Fairy Absinthe/

I'm... back at it again/
Lurk at the back with a pad and a pen/
Work on a track till I'm haggard, incensed/
But happy that it'll be snappin' ya neck/

When the window shattering bass hits, son/
Till ya screw facing, lookin like ya face lift's fucked/
And ya mates sit, tucking their chains in, cunt/
Afraid like I am of a baby bump/

When I grab the mic, it's the start of the lesson/
Put ya hands up, I'm not asking a question/
Put ya hands up, I won't ask it again/
Or I'll mark you for death, put your ass in detention/

Uh... Hit the verse like an earthquake/
Surgeon of words, shit burns from the first take/
Murkin a verse while lurking Burd Brain/
But still not quite of his birth name/

Uh.... Mental in the brain/
Burning effigies together with enemies at the steak/
I'm definitely deranged, the devil's in me to stay/
Eternally till I'm sentenced to burn away in the flames/

Ah, better ventilate shit when I get on stage/
Already steaming like I'm up in Adelaide/
Scrawling, I'm drawing the scene in like Anime/
Faggot made rappers will crumple like cellophane

CHORUS

Every day that I wake up I gotta rhyme
Rendering waves in the cage takes a lotta time
Getting paid but not a slave to the dollar sign
I remain sane ‘cos I don’t stay for the bottom line
Old enough to know better
Young enough to not give a fuck
I don’t trust a go-getter
Motherfuckers will give you up
Ain’t gonna learn no lesson
Spend all my time spitting brah
THC and I’m reppin’
In the studio in the pub




VERSE 3 (Butter D)

I stay faded, my brains changin

On the nod don't wanna be awakened

Never snitched but I'm makin a statement

And sayin if theyre deep in the rocks ima cave em

Tried not to give em any clues,

next minute see my face on the vigilante news

And i didnt plan to shoot but I hit em and i move

Went n opened em up like you did a can of soup uhh..

In Tas got around a lot

Lived bottom and the middle and now the top

Nothin for me in Glenorchy so i got the fuck out

Still got people yellin out at my mums house

I aint there, better off messagin

Enemies decapitated so i got ahead of em

No protectin from son like melanin

So I stay burnin a verse for the hell of it

Had it hard cos your father'd belt ya

I was gettin on the shard in the shelter

Now I'm writin my bars I'm realizin at last

I was blind from the spark like a welder

Aint takin names theres no real foes

Told em whats up at 16 and they still know

On pills i aint got no chill though

Aint killed nobody yet but i will though

CHORUS

Every day that I wake up I gotta rhyme
Rendering waves in the cage takes a lotta time
Getting paid but not a slave to the dollar sign
I remain sane ‘cos I don’t stay for the bottom line
Old enough to know better
Young enough to not give a fuck
I don’t trust a go-getter
Motherfuckers will give you up
Ain’t gonna learn no lesson
Spend all my time spitting brah
THC and I’m reppin’
In the studio in the pub