All around the city, Hawthorn to Hursty
Melbourne hip-hop fellas are fallin’ for the thirsty
North Fitz to G-town, bury ya weak clowns
All around the city, Alamein to Richmond
Crisp up in ya system, this is the Commission
From St. Kilda, Sunshine, lung rhyme to punchlines
It’s always, never sometimes!
f#ck ones! I cut lines!
This is stress relief, welcome to the press release
I never cease like war goin’ against the peace
I score the best of weed, sure to slaughter less MC’s
Cut up a quarter, jug of water is the recipe
Scenes of many horrors I’ve lived through
A scholar of kicks, loops and bottles of Vic’s brew
And followed the southern swoll’s, and scribbled on artist walls
You’re too fickle to f#ck and brawl, I mingle with troubled sorts
And double naughts in my bank account, so check the statement
I can break it down — LC’s takin’ the crown!
Makin’ it healthy, never complacent, pushin’ it to the limit
The others seem to be racin’, we’re gettin’ into your system
Precision with no division, quality over quantity
Audio anonymity, visually there’s no stoppin’ me!
I got the hot degrees, leakin’ 〈??〉 journalist
I burn just like a furnace, inflict the b#tch with a nervous twitch!
Is tellin’ this for all you real rap revelers to benefit
Ever since eleven, hip-hop’s been my residence
I jacked all trades, and mastered one of four elements
Pure elegance, my eloquent word use was prevalent
And even in my style’s early stages of development
The whispers got around that Trem shows potential
Composin’ dope flows, drops ’em over slow instrumentals
Incidentally, my first 12-inch was penciled into the books
As one of Melbourne’s most influential
Independently released debuts
And now I’m here to break the news to these fake crews
Neglectin’ to pay dues and debts
I bruise reps and noose necks
And dudes step in thinkin’ they’ve got more juice than group sex
So think again before you pick up the pen
The scrolls, scripts, call it quits and leave this sh#t up to Trem!
Ugh! B-A-lans’ lyrics are top standard
The sought-after broadcaster
A crafter of the advanced dis-platters of raps like melons wack
Bob Batterz that I’ve slapped on the wax canvas!
A bloke to check when you’re lookin’ for dope lyrical ferociousness
I wrote what you’re supposed to get!
Like a boxer’s hand motion, I keep the speed
Smokin’ to your heads with no regret!
Or commotion and showin’ off, so easily flowin’, yeah!
Hard to do? Look at those composin’!
Plots of dead defecation
Like gettin’ laden with nice p#ss# pentratin’
With the men in quotations, than eggs and bacon
Puttin’ prey to death like insects in the web
Lacin’ the lines is the infestation
Of LC strikes ya premises, but that’s the end of this press statement!
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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Lyrical Commission Lyrics – Press Release