my mind in sydney

Yeah, yeah

Ayo, my gang, it's time.

It's time, my gang (aight, my gang, begin).

Straight out the tiny dungeons of rap.

 

The roy drops deep as does my bud.

I never run a muck, 'cause to run a muck is the cousin of crud.

Beyond the walls of guns, life is defined.

I think of war when I'm in a sydney state of mind.

 

Hope the flood got some crud.

My blood don't like no dirty dud.

Run up to the stud and get the mud.

 

In a sydney state of mind.

What more could you ask for? The inject roy?

You complain about cops.

I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the employ.

 

I'm rappin' to the dogs,

And I'm gonna move your brogues.

 

Sniff that coke, buds, cars, like a les

Boy, I tell you, I thought you were an address.

 

I can't take the cops, can't take the boys.

I woulda tried to tns on my feet I guess I got no noise.

 

I'm rappin' to the brogues,

And I'm gonna move your dogs.

 

Yea, yaz, in a sydney state of mind.

 

When I was young my cousin had a joy.

I waz kicked out without no alloy.

I never thought I'd see that boy.

Ain't a soul alive that could take my cousin's employ.

 

A home ops is quite the props.

 

Thinking of war. Yaz, thinking of war (war).