[Intro: Maundz & Seth Sentry]
*Coughs* Jesus Christ Maundzy. Seth! It's that northern suburbanite shit. You know it!
[Verse 1: Maundz & Seth Sentry]
So here's the deal right (Okay) We was talkin' 'bout a song
(Yeah) Seth [?] Maundz One, now that's the bomb
Yeah, nah. What you talkin' 'bout? Let a rapper speak
Dude, you been blowing up my motherfucking phone for weeks (Fuck off)
I wanna freak the joint, spit the hard shit
Yeah, but you been chopping and changing all the concepts
It's like that Mr Sentry? Then check it out
You fucking with the wise, man, and I ain't talkin' Beckinsale
Check your mail, I just sent you a flow you fuckhead
(You're a total cunt, Seth) Yeah, no wonder that no one loves us
Or phones us up, so we just sit in our apartments
And grow moustaches all alone in the total darkness (Shiiiit)
I had a girl that was smoking like Joan of Arc
But I robot danced at father's open casket and photographed it
And we've grown apart since (Sorry, man)
No one asked, bitch, pass the tomato sauce to eat the fucking coat of arms with
I know I suck, shit, times are tough
But we here making something out of nothing like MacGyver, bruh
Fuck a rhyme, erupt talkin' about raw hype
Cut the left side of your body off and you wouldn't be alright
(I get it) Bunch of blah-blah, we got the Mars bars
Rappers out of this world, I need myself a Jar Jar
A socialite, above the grime like an overbite
I'm broke and too tired like a cheap fuckin' motorbike
[Chorus: Maundz & Seth Sentry]
[?] don't want us, the underground neither
But it ain't about that tonight (Shut your fucking mouth)
[?] in the cut, got my hands on my nuts
Yeah, we on that type of vibe (Piece of shit)
You want that glitzy shit? Nah, fuck that
You want that filthy shit? Nah, fuck that
We them northside kids in your foresight
Spit it how the fuck we like
[Verse 2: Maundz & Seth Sentry]
Seth, you Fawkner fuck, spit it
I bought some sandalwood, waxed my balls at the candle store
I got a date tonight, and I just hope she likes my blanket fort
I'm sick of eating paddle pops and reading Asimov
And jacking off into my last pair of fucking matching socks
Gallagher meets Carrot Top, slice your melon off
I talk props, the girls drop the kick, she on some Hasselhoff
(Dude, you're such a chatterbox) But yo, I sounded hot
Your boy freestyles like a bath full of Maxibons
Never had a massive song, my album sold like a mastodon
Selling Tassy Tigers in a [?] shop ([?])
Battlestar Galactica, the marathon vagabond
Rhyming hot lines for the kids like a telethon
Hang on, stop! Oi, Moindzy, look at this rash I got
(Dude, I think you're sick) Oh okay, cheers man, thanks a lot
Rappers sulking like my catalogue is catchy songs
Hard rappers bore me stiff, I wonder why their albums flop?
(Whatever, man) Try to line me in with rappers who are candy soft
It's bad for your teeth, I choke a rent-a-cop with dental floss (Oh)
Whenever I get pissed off a rapper gets his larynx cut (Really?)
Take you out the game when I assassinate your character
(Oh, shots fired) Nah, they'll never trace it back to us
(But what about the bullets?) Ain't no rappers of this calibre (Nah)
The silhouettes that let the gun powder in the barrels up
Seth and Maundzy bring the beef to you like a cattle truck
I'm sneezing on your salad bar, I'm tryna tune this air guitar
We trashed the rental car (Rrr), I grabbed a hipster by his handlebars
That's the team spirit, cue the theme music, been a teen mutant
Since we drank the green ooze up out the canister!
[Chorus: Maundz & Seth Sentry]
[?] don't want us, the underground neither
But it ain't about that tonight (Shut your fucking mouth)
[?] in the cut, got my hands on my nuts
Yeah, we on that type of vibe (Piece of shit)
You want that glitzy shit? Nah, fuck that
You want that filthy shit? Nah, fuck that
We them northside kids in your foresight
Spit it how the fuck we like
[Outro: Sethy Sentry]
Seth and Maundzy. Two fuckwits from the northern suburbs. This is probably the illest duet since Sonny & Cher, or Cher, or Cher. I don't know how the fuck to say her name, all I know is that joint was a classic. Give a fuck what you think, mate!
