Artist: Vents f/ Mortar, Trials
Album:  Hard to Kill
Song:   Full Metal
Typed by: newos_crib_is@hotmail.com

[Vents]
Yeah.. one, two, fuck you!
Ay, yeah, yo.. yeah, yo..
I got a dangerous mind like Christ in the temple
Mental as anything, stand on the mount sound menacing
Turn the other cheek, you get mad when your brother speak peace
Burn clubs every fucking week
Listen here, logic disappear
Rational thought distort, this is fear
This is year, two-double-oh-seven
Cock back your weapon, is they your brethren?
No, so bury that cockroach deep
where the swagman sleep in the billabong creek
I'm John Joseph, ferocious habitat
Ballarat beat the rap, now that's a fact
Word to Bon Scott, it's a long way to the top
Jump, hit the granite, feel "Planet Rock" pump
Dump the car, wipe the prints
Rob the bank and feed the kids, motherfucker I'm back!

[Chorus 2X: Vents] + (Mortar) + {Trials}
That's that, fear the rebel
(Mortar Shell) Pour on your eardrum gentle
Full metal {Mr. Fuck-You}
Vents the blood that flood through, my vein run blue

[Mortar]
Check..
The hell got ya +Shell+ shocked, I rock Normandy beach
Undefeated like Tiger tank blitzkrieg in forty-three
Stuka scream on the scene
Me109 is in the skies fighting for liberty
Hurricane driver, spitfire pilot
Open up your eyes and wise up, fuckers!
Might cut the ties that bind ya
Loosed off the chain with the brain of a Rottweiler
Switch the style up, flip, spit
Shatter peace, speech, the brick
The leash, the blood on my kicks
I gotta eat, soil and green for the rich
They leach off modern day slavery
Profit off the populace, caged like an aviary
One day we'll be taking to the streets
Settle the vendetta where flesh and mettle meets the beast
Hellhounds baring their teeth
Marking the carcass, death breeds disease
Their reach, the long arm of the law
Swat team on the scene to guillotine the poor, fuck!

[Trials]
Check, check, check it out, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah..
It's like back once again is the Incredible
Rhyme animal, genital general
Half-court medicine balls, hook shot crack pot
Lurking in the back lot, wrestling attack dogs
Stepping out the shower, guerrilla in the mist
Picking up the mic, put a killer in the mix
Pillar to your chest, muffling a massacre
Trampling your chest like a stampede from Africa
T-rigger, serial beat killer
Seat filler quicker than I stick a dick to Reese Wither-
-spooning's for love-struck suckers
Selling out your mates for a piece of pussy, dumb motherfuckers!
We muck runners, slave wage, Sam son-of
Kidnap the drummer, make him play till the sun up
Enemy to summer, sleep deprived
Don the cloak of the darkside, creep at night, C'MON!

[Chorus 2X]