str8 from the burbs on the outskirts of brizzy the big smoke,
with poisen in my words, they be sayin dis fuckin kids dope,
im just the right bloke to provoke that aussie hip hop aint a joke,
ima emerge bluting words, til i choke on a dry throat,
take a toast, he's here, ro$$y's in the fuckin streets now,
never had a dose of doubt, its a motherfuckin beat down,
bitch i spit wicked and kick shit like a kick stand,
tap out or get knocked the fuck out, i never back down,
dats wat ima about, manning up, putting up a fight,
tonight, 2 feet standing and 2 fists demanding the right,
the right to be respected, as a man, and what i write,
head high, my neck stays errect as i, stand here with pride,
proud of my struggle and the game as hip hop runs thru my vains,
speak aloud about my troubles, my pain, and constent strain,
as i drain my past thru this pen, ima let it fuckin rain,
and kick sum ass, givin ya'll a reason to remember my name.