Critical Mass

[Interlude: Sample]
"And I said that this was for real hip-hop, this wasn't for the girls who like that 'Starships' bullshit. And I ref—it's a pop song, and I referred to it as bullshit. I took a lot of heat from people" "Fuck 'em, fuck 'em" "A lot of people didn't think I should have the right to criticise [?]" "Fuck 'em" "Fair enough"

[Verse 1: Trials]
Said I put that in your
Melon like a third of a bottle of a Smirnoff
We hit the hard road then missed the fucking turnoff
I burn off plenty fat, diggin' through any wack [?] stacks of penny stocks
Haters gonna hate and helicopters helicopter
Fat stack of weed, jelly as petroleum
I lit it then I dutched the house out like Napoléon
Sodium, benzos, deep in the friend zone
Picked it up then blew it like you do with new Nintendos
Held the traffic up, [?] as fuck, bourbon in my Maccas cup
I pull my pants down and lift my fuckin' jacket up
Sucker rappers actin' like they not suckin' this one
Then why the fuck they so concerned when I was gettin' income? (That's mad)
Dumb as Jeffrey Warren Daniels and you said you dope (Nope)
Even the stiffest piece of shit [?] still float
Roach another leaf in palm tree then chop it in a soup bowl
Then stick my whole fist inside your loophole

[Chorus: Trials, K21]
That's what I'm gonna do (What up?) That's what I'm gonna do
(What the fuck is up?) That's what I'm gonna do
(Do) You ain't from around round here
(What's up then? Son
Son) You ain't from around round here
You ain't from around round here
You ain't from around round here (So don't)
Swear they come around round here
Haha

[Verse 2: K21]
It's always trouble when I
Hang with Dan, little arrogant like Mr Sandilands
Well-known [?] grams till I'm paranoid like a Sabbath band
Trash your mans on a track with an avalanche of savage rants
While wearing baggy pants like I'm about to do the hammer dance
Let's have a jam blindfolded, play caravan without no hands
And after, drink till we don't know how to stand, smoke a pound of lamb
I'm out of dances to do, didn't have a chance to practise, and
I bring the wrath [?] raps are banned in Pakistan
And back again, fuck it, keep a sandpaper rugged
While the ram raid your luggage, ram—ram raid your luggage
Steal your rider too and tell your band mates to suck it
'Cause I'd rather be dead broke than build a fan base with rubbish
And the G.E. bring a TV and my clan stays above [?]
While we serenade the public with the landscape of ruckus
While we rupture your subject, and ain't done until we've done it properly
Throwin' eggs at your fuckin' copy while I'm bumpin' Godfrey
Motherfucker