Artist: Pegz f/ Hilltop Hoods
Album:  Axis
Song:   This Is For Life
Typed by: sensative_new_age_guy@hotmail.com

[Verse 1: Pressure]
Damn I'ma be old and dirty, fat and bold by thirty
And by 70 definitely cold and scurvy
Sinking my gums into life or anything as it comes
I think I've succumbed, got the drinker thinking I'm young
You take a father of four to make a pass at your daughter
Tried to rap, spat my dentures in a glass of water
It's gonna be sad, holding into wanna be fads
But I ain't full of shit (nope) - that's my colostomy bag
Rocking shows at retirement homes
This trendy geezer don't know when to quit, like a smoker with emphysema
(I've had amnesia) forgetting tracks with my thoughts relaying
(It ain't a seizure) I'm probably bopping in my walking frame
Down to be the last standing, ain't no bounderies
Aiyyo Pegz, it's your shout for a round of tea
I'll have em' breathing at the bar, the static gripped to my mic
In chrome-rimmed wheel chairs singing "This is for life!"

[Chorus: Pegz + Hoods] {X2}
This is for life
This is a long term membership
This is for life
Dedicated to the penmanship
This is for life
Popping wheel chairs off the curb
As the world turns at 33 and a third

[Verse 2: Pegz]
Yeah until I got false teeth, til my beard is grey
With a fat chain and gold plated hearing aid
Kids on the streets think I'm weird and strange
At the bowles club old ladies cheer my name
This is for life, making beats for my grand kids
Still using mpc's and sampling 
Diggin' in the stake for Aretha Franklin
With a Honda jet pack and keys to my mansion
Keep the passion, dropping the promo
Fans in the front row, poppin' the 'no-doze'
Suffa's got a comb-over rocking a Volvo
And still getting love like a pocket of mojo
Oh no, rocking at the RSL
Debris on the deck spitting hard as hell
My man Pressure at the bar nearly passing out
With a security guard try'na calm him down
This is for life, brothers need to heed the lessons
Pegz and Hilltops bring the preconceptions

"Rippin the microphone 'til I'm motherfuckin sixty" --> KRS

[Chorus] {X2}

[Verse 3: Suffa]
Until I'm on a pension with dentures, I'm still gonna flip tracks
Til' I'm poppin viagra like they're Tic-Tacs
Until my teeth are in a glass on the window pane
It's Suffa MC - the host of your Bingo game
88' that's two fat ladies from 88 til' I'm 88
Can't fade the greats, we'll still be hard rhymers
With debris on the decks try'na scratch with arthritis
We'll be old timers, cold rhymers with alsymers
We'll be bald, blind as 50 year old coal miners
with a suit on, filling prescriptions with a coupon
Tellin' kids I used to hike with no shoes on
for 3 hours through the rain and snow
Just to make it to the club so we could claim the show
Til' they drained the flow from my piece with a catheter
I rap with a spectacular, home-grown vernacular

[Chorus] {X2}

"Rippin the microphone 'til I'm motherfuckin sixty"