Artist: Hilltop Hoods
Album:  Matter of Time
Song:   Whatcha Got?
Typed by: sensative_new_age_guy@hotmail.com

[Chorus: Suffa with Pressure] {Pressure in parentheses}
I got
Hundreds of people asking me, getting pissed with me
And dissin me
Literally blasting me, asking me
When the Hoods' new album's gonna drop
And where it is, well here it is
Man I got
the mic in front of me, peeps to the back of me
Pressure to the right of me, my soul inside of me
I got a variety of rhymes (I rock the spot)
I got notoriety of rhymes (talk about what I got)

[Verse 1: Pressure with Suffa] {Suffa in parentheses}
A sense of pride so let's just ride off my anguish
Have the sense to slide and coincide with my language
I got microphones and my piece of mind
Despite my closure, get a piece of mind off my problem beats and rhymes
I got my own view, my own reflection in the mirror
I got enough noise to make micky loud, I scream I hear ya
I got plenty of mates (and I've got plenty of enemies)
And I've got plenty of hate (for the many bad memories)
I got energy that's translated into speech
When I'm "packing beats, beats, beats"
(The beats on my acca will make the world go round
And then I put it on my rollin, rollin, rollin
roll the sequencer, two seqencer, track format)
And mate I gotta speak with yer
I got problems with my wage try'na make ends meat
I guess it's either getting paid or respect on the street
I got envy and jealousy, you're planning on telling me
To drop a new LP cos the melody's remedy!
I got my own shadow that follows me in footsteps
I've had enough people worrying about the props that the Hoods get
So why not, (worry about what you've got)
Cos I got, (enough of that old fly rock)
To make your girlfriends thighs rock

[*Suffa takes over*]
Check what I got, her own hands between her legs 
Had a tap like a keg while you was drinking the dregs!
She's full of styles, fine - told her a look to lick the fingers
Answer up the bass line, hook from Charlie Mingers 
And lingers in the track makes you believe in God when
Suffa's so phat, I guess I got a weight problem
I got a squadron of b-boys ready to break em' off
I break em' off there and then, from a cut of me costing
I got you at a loss when you give it up like charity
Got clarity, I spose I get exposure like a gallery
I got a four door car and a three room home
I got weekly repayments on a two grand loan
I got one life to live and no second chances
And mates that are writers and rhymers that are break dancers
Clothes on my back and friends that I trust
I got flows that are phat and a heart full of lust
I got a sense of pride, I got agility and speed
emence ability, man I got everything I need

[*Pressure takes over*]
I got 3 Hoods, the closeness for 3 times the dopeness
See even if the nation carcus, situation is still hopeless
I got my notice from non-composers from their posters
I suppose someone becomes the dopest (and you notice)
I got a mic that's my companion, my hood labels me champion
We're here to get your publishes with you, we're undemanding
I live a life that's demandive but still got positivity
I got to explore each and every posibility
Hip Hop is feeling me, it's going straight to my head
"Like those seizures when I rap I'm taking grape juice and Sudafed"
If you can get brews then I got ryhmes
I got a cavalcade of battle rage to I got mine so
"Get thrust, cos other MC's can't deal with us"
I feel a must to get what I haven't got
A stagnate rock is filling my ears and getting more played like Panadol
"I got a sense of direction and a compass
Drive past MC's with no compassion, though I heard the scream sounds"

Check it out, (what you got), I got
Check it out, (what you got), I got
Check it out, (what you got), I got
Check it out...

[Chorus]