| There was an ocker kicking rhymes up in the land of rock and roll
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| He’s not a rocker, just a stoner on a roll (On a roll)
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| Goin' all out on the road and tryna make the honour roll
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| See I been all up in the dojo practicin' my braggadocio
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| Learned to toot my own horn, blow my saxophone and my oboe
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| Soprano, alto, baritone, mastered my high and low notes
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| A quick jazz cigarette then I’m takin' my solo
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| If you ain’t heard about it ask around
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| On any given Sunday bet we turn the party out
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| Get love on every corner walkin' through our part of town
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| Yeah, you that lucky winner, Price Is Right and so you better come on down
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| To the inner west, come and visit the turf
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| You’ll see my crew be runnin' Sydney like the City2Surf
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| From the pretty beach sides to the sticks in the 'burbs
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| They say «that dude Smooth Nicholas, he slick with them words»
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| I was rollin' with my brosef and he turned and said to me
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| «Homie, you been goin' in since we was only seventeen»
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| I said «I ain’t one to blow my own, but I tend to agree
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| If ah, you know what I—you know what I mean, what I mean»
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| Now the punters say they love the way I spit it on the beat
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| It put the roof over my head and put the kicks up on my feet
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| Nothin' changed, still a couple snakes, we cut them blades of green
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| If ah, you know what I—you know what I mean
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| The sorta shit that they let fly, I could do with my eyes closed
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| But I’m taking the high road, tryna scale heights, never fall off cause I climb
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| slow
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| See my sign’s goat, as in G.O.A.T
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| Make my way from A to B while spelling out what’s plain to see
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| My man was shotgun in the 'Yota, looked over and said to me
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| «Homie, you been goin' in since we was only seventeen»
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| When we’d rock up to your house party, rollin' twenty deep
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| Turnin' off your Black Eyed Peas and throwin' on some BDP
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| R.B.G, R.O.C, Eminem or D.R.E
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| R.S.E, BnE or Suffa, Pressure, and Debris
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| For the moment probably be that O.V.O or T.D.E
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| But homie this that O.N.E, that D.A.Y, that E.N.T
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| Nowadays we got our names up on the list and drinks are free
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| It’s like something I think I saw in a vision or a dream
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| I’m tryna paint the kind of picture that make you picture the scene
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| If ah, you know what I—you know what I mean
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| I was rollin' with my brosef and he turned and said to me
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| «Homie, you been goin' in since we was only seventeen»
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| I said «I ain’t one to blow my own, but I tend to agree
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| If ah, you know what I—you know what I mean, what I mean
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| Now the punters say they love the way I spit it on the beat
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| It put the roof over my head and put the kicks up on my feet
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| Nothin' changed, still a couple snakes, we cut them blades of green
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| If ah, you know what I—you know what I mean
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| Don’t wanna blow my own trumpet, don’t wanna toot my own horn
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| Don’t wanna beat my own drum kit, don’t wanna write my own score
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| But they like it, they love it, they buy it, they bump it, recite it
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| Turn it up and then they bump it up some more
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| Don’t wanna blow my own trumpet, don’t wanna toot my own horn
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| Don’t wanna beat my own drum kit, don’t wanna write my own score
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| But they like it, they love it, they buy it, they bump it, recite it
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| Turn it up and then they bump it up some more |