Lyrics Conversations From a Speakeasy Restrung - Omni , Hilltop Hoods
Let's
get
introductions
aside
Pressure,
*Okwerdz*
and
Suffa
tonight
busting
the
mic
like
Lately
I've
been
hearing
nothing
but
hype
Pen's
mightier
than
your
sword?
Then
you'd
be
(fucked)
in
a
fight
From
the
point
of
the
exact
conception
I've
had
perfection
And
you
ain't
close
to
Omni
even
though
you
may
lack
direction
I've
got
a
good
heart,
but
bad
intentions
Pressure
don't
need
a
map
for
reference
I'm
a
man
of
legends
I'll
last
forever
like
bad
impressions
Like
the
first
night
you
cursed
in
adolescence
The
way
I
slam
a
sentence
can
panic
veterans
Some
things
are
better
left
unsaid
like
anything
that
I
have
to
mention
My
loud
mouths
my
downfall
it's
doubtful
I'll
bite
off
more
than
I
can
chew
cause
I
already
got
a
mouthful
Act
like
I
astound
y'all,
well
I'm
a
scoundrel
With
enemies
but
cliche
is
a
friend
of
me,
I'm
out
y'all
Pull
up
a
chair,
and
kick
your
feet
on
the
table
Let
down
you
hair,
lean
back
in
your
seat
if
you're
able
We've
got
the
Jazz,
for
your
speakeasy
conversations
It's
the
universal
language
of
relaxation
The
seas
are
combining,
to
breed
an
alliance
It's
not
Omni,
it's
Okweez
with
the
rhyming
Y'all
need
to
be
supporting
these
cats
with
a
passion
Instead
of
beefing
about
what
accent
they
rap
with
As
if
it
ain't
tough
enough
to
come
up
with
a
record
Just
ask
the
hoods,
you
really
could
suffer
from
the
pressure
You
get
it?
It's
hard
to
let
me
tell
you,
mad
at
this
era
I
wish
fans
in
America
were
as
hungry
as
they
are
in
Australia
I
got
the
heart,
I
won't
fail
you
I
got
stuff
from
the
broads
in
the
bars,
and
something
raw
for
the
fellas
Just
recline
back,
just
get
chill
with
your
style
Aiyyo
and
why's
that?
Cause
I'm
sick
of
yelling
so
loud
But
I'm
the
hungriest
alive
kid
the
dude
won't
wait
So
turn
your
head
for
a
sec
and
you
might
lose
your
plate
So
when
Stockton
meets
Adelaide
(Fuck)
it,
just
bring
the
platinum
plaques
this
way,
OK?
I
heard
there
ain't
no
party
like
an
open
bar
We
lay
out
rhymes
like
drinks
for
a
broken
heart
Heartbreak
like
liquor
in
an
open
scar
So
bizarre,
roll
thick
like
smokers
tar
Tell
me
who
can
rock
parties
with
no
guitar
And
if
I
ain't
getting
paid
then
I'm
leaving
in
the
promoters
car
Tell
me
who
you
know
this
far
Gone,
on
till
the
moments.
Gone,
on
till
the
break
of
this
governments
back
And
it's
on
till
my
mates
are
all
loving
the
tracks
No
thugs
in
his
raps,
no
muggings
and
macks
And
no
guns,
just
trying
to
get
us
up
on
the
map
Bust,
Suffa
on
wax,
trust
it's
on
I'm
trying
to
do
for
rhyme
what
digital
cameras
did
for
porn
Born
in
a
small
town,
die
with
a
big
mouth
Hoods
tore
it
all
down,
shouts
to
the
kids
south
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