| Song | Classic Example |
| Artist | Hilltop Hoods |
| Artist | Pharoahe Monch |
| Album | State Of The Art |
| 作词 : JAMERSON, TROY DONALD/FRANCIS, BARRY/LAMBERT, MATTHEW DA | |
| VERSE 1: PHARAOHE MONCH | |
| Now we bring the new danger to stranger’s who claim to defame the crew, | |
| Pharoahe, Hilltop Hoods, never singing the blues, | |
| Slinging these new singles for you to mingle to, | |
| Australian Hip Hop but not kangaroos, | |
| Change the game a little rearrange the rules, | |
| Your whole frame is brittle man you came to lose, | |
| We drop classics you bastards, | |
| My final four defeats sweet sixteen’s like March madness, | |
| It’s not passive, so ravenous, | |
| This collaborative effort is not average, | |
| Its magnanimous, thus, my little crew got loose screws, | |
| These dudes will put two in your cabbage, | |
| One in your laminate, three in you managers Phantom, | |
| Don’t be a candidate for animal planet, | |
| Lyrical savages and CD anger management classes, | |
| Look how we handle them we leave them in bandages damn it | |
| VERSE 2: SUFFA | |
| No stopping us now, Hilltop in this, we locking it down, | |
| Apocalypse now, we’re not with this monotonous sound, | |
| It’s innocuous Hip Hop and we’re on top of a cloud, | |
| Rocking a crowd, dropping this like who not with us now? | |
| They’re all feeling the movements it’s, | |
| Got DJ’s scratching up my shit like removalists, | |
| Who is this ludicrous, furious, humorous, | |
| Dude that just threw us off the back of tour bus? | |
| Two of us, bringing the shit that got your hands clapping, | |
| Luminous, swinging my dick like Dr Manhattan, | |
| I had to stop for breath, | |
| Cos our shit’s like Joan of Arc, man it’s hot to death, | |
| We blowing up the spot, not once but twice like P-Monche, | |
| Blowing up some Reebok pumps with a beatbox, | |
| Come to life, or try get this drunk out of here, | |
| Pffft, my shit’s a classic man, get the fuck out of here | |
| VERSE 3: PRESSURE | |
| This aint a so-so, promo, believe me it’s pro, | |
| Dope flow that don’t know the meaning of no, | |
| Me and my co, Pharoahe, won’t be leaving the show, | |
| Until the, speakers blow from the heat of my flow, | |
| We write classics, for back alley theatrics, | |
| Playing with fire living in a house built with match sticks, | |
| Haters wana roll with me now, showing love? | |
| Guess I’m just too busy holding it down to hold a grudge, | |
| Your average amateurs panic and choke, | |
| They aint actually dope, they’re high on cannabis smoke, | |
| I’m still the man if I don’t blow a grand on a rope, | |
| Cause fortune favors the brave that’s why these rappers are broke, | |
| Props to Numark for jacking the sample, | |
| Debris could lay a scratch with his arms full, | |
| Keeping heads packed like a car pool, | |
| Back for the masses to marvel, here’s another classic example |
| zuò cí : JAMERSON, TROY DONALD FRANCIS, BARRY LAMBERT, MATTHEW DA | |
| VERSE 1: PHARAOHE MONCH | |
| Now we bring the new danger to stranger' s who claim to defame the crew, | |
| Pharoahe, Hilltop Hoods, never singing the blues, | |
| Slinging these new singles for you to mingle to, | |
| Australian Hip Hop but not kangaroos, | |
| Change the game a little rearrange the rules, | |
| Your whole frame is brittle man you came to lose, | |
| We drop classics you bastards, | |
| My final four defeats sweet sixteen' s like March madness, | |
| It' s not passive, so ravenous, | |
| This collaborative effort is not average, | |
| Its magnanimous, thus, my little crew got loose screws, | |
| These dudes will put two in your cabbage, | |
| One in your laminate, three in you managers Phantom, | |
| Don' t be a candidate for animal planet, | |
| Lyrical savages and CD anger management classes, | |
| Look how we handle them we leave them in bandages damn it | |
| VERSE 2: SUFFA | |
| No stopping us now, Hilltop in this, we locking it down, | |
| Apocalypse now, we' re not with this monotonous sound, | |
| It' s innocuous Hip Hop and we' re on top of a cloud, | |
| Rocking a crowd, dropping this like who not with us now? | |
| They' re all feeling the movements it' s, | |
| Got DJ' s scratching up my shit like removalists, | |
| Who is this ludicrous, furious, humorous, | |
| Dude that just threw us off the back of tour bus? | |
| Two of us, bringing the shit that got your hands clapping, | |
| Luminous, swinging my dick like Dr Manhattan, | |
| I had to stop for breath, | |
| Cos our shit' s like Joan of Arc, man it' s hot to death, | |
| We blowing up the spot, not once but twice like PMonche, | |
| Blowing up some Reebok pumps with a beatbox, | |
| Come to life, or try get this drunk out of here, | |
| Pffft, my shit' s a classic man, get the fuck out of here | |
| VERSE 3: PRESSURE | |
| This aint a soso, promo, believe me it' s pro, | |
| Dope flow that don' t know the meaning of no, | |
| Me and my co, Pharoahe, won' t be leaving the show, | |
| Until the, speakers blow from the heat of my flow, | |
| We write classics, for back alley theatrics, | |
| Playing with fire living in a house built with match sticks, | |
| Haters wana roll with me now, showing love? | |
| Guess I' m just too busy holding it down to hold a grudge, | |
| Your average amateurs panic and choke, | |
| They aint actually dope, they' re high on cannabis smoke, | |
| I' m still the man if I don' t blow a grand on a rope, | |
| Cause fortune favors the brave that' s why these rappers are broke, | |
| Props to Numark for jacking the sample, | |
| Debris could lay a scratch with his arms full, | |
| Keeping heads packed like a car pool, | |
| Back for the masses to marvel, here' s another classic example |