| Song | Clown Prince Restrung |
| Artist | Hilltop Hoods |
| Album | The Hard Road: Restrung |
| 作曲 : Francis, Lambert, Smith | |
| Chorus | |
| It's your round if you're hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you're banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop; we've been down since, | |
| Back in the days, I'm the clown prince. | |
| It's your round, if you're hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you're banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop; we've been down since, | |
| Back in the days when I was a teenager. | |
| Verse 1 – Suffa | |
| First up on the dulcet tones of the Gravy Bone Project, | |
| Suffa MC came to take you home, | |
| I drip lyrics like spit, spit lyrics like drips, | |
| Into arms I'll lick your spirit with my miracle whip, | |
| Whip, cos what I'm hearing's all shit on the lyrical tip, | |
| Nah I aint feeling you kid, we gave you, | |
| Something to jock, but it wasn't no thing, | |
| Like Bobby gave Whitney a rock but it wasn't no ring, | |
| And I'm a keep at em, crossing my fingers that eve, | |
| Says keep Adam, I'm going down on Louise, | |
| And I'm a wreak havoc, little man with a big pen, | |
| I got dirty habits like a nun in a pig pen, | |
| Like Drinking, smoking, cursing, sucking | |
| Titties, representing the city that I grew up in, | |
| We laid the path so you got a way in, | |
| It's Hilltop; we're three stars like a Holiday Inn. | |
| Chorus | |
| It's your round if you're hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you're banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop; we've been down since, | |
| Back in the days, I'm the clown prince. | |
| It's your round if you're hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you're banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop; we've been down since, | |
| Back in the days when I was a teenager. | |
| Verse 2 – Pressure | |
| Next up, when I get loose with no fail, | |
| Appealing like the naked truth and the truth is for sale, | |
| So when I leave yo, you're fucking with my pride I don't see though, | |
| Typical MC, my nuts don't match the size of my ego, | |
| I seize an opportunity cos they don't linger, | |
| The glass aint half empty its half full that why I'm a table drinker, | |
| Think you're on Pressures level? Only thing tight bro, | |
| That you might show is dressed in several of your wife's clothes, | |
| An arrogant fucker damaging suckers masterfully, | |
| If I married your mother you still wouldn't be half of me, | |
| You should run from me, fuck battling aint nothing sweet, | |
| Cos I won't beat you to the punch I'll punch you to the beat, | |
| Don't get offended by the rubbish that we pump in the street, | |
| My foots always in my mouth I just cant stomach defeat, | |
| I'm a master these until it's hard to breathe, | |
| Its Hilltop, we're the first to come last to leave. | |
| Chorus | |
| It's your round if you're hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you're banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop; we've been down since, | |
| Back in the days, I'm the clown prince. | |
| It's your round if you're hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you're banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop; we've been down since, | |
| Back in the days when I was a teenager. | |
| Verse 3 – Suffa and Pressure | |
| I'm smooth like Marlon Brando at thirty, | |
| At my peak like Marlon Brando at fifty, | |
| And I'm fat like Marlon Brando at seventy, | |
| Fuck it; no MC could ever better me (no one man), | |
| And half the time half my crew could drink the bar, | |
| And half these cats aint half of what they think they are, | |
| We independent, I'd sign on the line, | |
| The day me giving you the finger is a sign of the times, | |
| Their rhymes are designed to try diss us, but why diss us? | |
| I don't rewind to try to find disses, | |
| Man, I just recline and mind my business, | |
| And I think in lines in rhymes, the rhyme stitches, | |
| Up the minds of the lines of dimes and fine… | |
| I pen letters that kill, | |
| Then stab your neck with a feather until you've bled in my quill, | |
| This veteran's ill, thinking you can better my skill, | |
| You need medicine chill a Pressure vendettas for real. | |
| Chorus | |
| It's your round if you're hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you're banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop; we've been down since, | |
| Back in the days, I'm the clown prince. | |
| It's your round if you're hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you're banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop; we've been down since, | |
| Back in the days when I was a teenager. |
| zuò qǔ : Francis, Lambert, Smith | |
| Chorus | |
| It' s your round if you' re hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you' re banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop we' ve been down since, | |
| Back in the days, I' m the clown prince. | |
| It' s your round, if you' re hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you' re banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop we' ve been down since, | |
| Back in the days when I was a teenager. | |
| Verse 1 Suffa | |
| First up on the dulcet tones of the Gravy Bone Project, | |
| Suffa MC came to take you home, | |
| I drip lyrics like spit, spit lyrics like drips, | |
| Into arms I' ll lick your spirit with my miracle whip, | |
| Whip, cos what I' m hearing' s all shit on the lyrical tip, | |
| Nah I aint feeling you kid, we gave you, | |
| Something to jock, but it wasn' t no thing, | |
| Like Bobby gave Whitney a rock but it wasn' t no ring, | |
| And I' m a keep at em, crossing my fingers that eve, | |
| Says keep Adam, I' m going down on Louise, | |
| And I' m a wreak havoc, little man with a big pen, | |
| I got dirty habits like a nun in a pig pen, | |
| Like Drinking, smoking, cursing, sucking | |
| Titties, representing the city that I grew up in, | |
| We laid the path so you got a way in, | |
| It' s Hilltop we' re three stars like a Holiday Inn. | |
| Chorus | |
| It' s your round if you' re hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you' re banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop we' ve been down since, | |
| Back in the days, I' m the clown prince. | |
| It' s your round if you' re hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you' re banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop we' ve been down since, | |
| Back in the days when I was a teenager. | |
| Verse 2 Pressure | |
| Next up, when I get loose with no fail, | |
| Appealing like the naked truth and the truth is for sale, | |
| So when I leave yo, you' re fucking with my pride I don' t see though, | |
| Typical MC, my nuts don' t match the size of my ego, | |
| I seize an opportunity cos they don' t linger, | |
| The glass aint half empty its half full that why I' m a table drinker, | |
| Think you' re on Pressures level? Only thing tight bro, | |
| That you might show is dressed in several of your wife' s clothes, | |
| An arrogant fucker damaging suckers masterfully, | |
| If I married your mother you still wouldn' t be half of me, | |
| You should run from me, fuck battling aint nothing sweet, | |
| Cos I won' t beat you to the punch I' ll punch you to the beat, | |
| Don' t get offended by the rubbish that we pump in the street, | |
| My foots always in my mouth I just cant stomach defeat, | |
| I' m a master these until it' s hard to breathe, | |
| Its Hilltop, we' re the first to come last to leave. | |
| Chorus | |
| It' s your round if you' re hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you' re banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop we' ve been down since, | |
| Back in the days, I' m the clown prince. | |
| It' s your round if you' re hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you' re banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop we' ve been down since, | |
| Back in the days when I was a teenager. | |
| Verse 3 Suffa and Pressure | |
| I' m smooth like Marlon Brando at thirty, | |
| At my peak like Marlon Brando at fifty, | |
| And I' m fat like Marlon Brando at seventy, | |
| Fuck it no MC could ever better me no one man, | |
| And half the time half my crew could drink the bar, | |
| And half these cats aint half of what they think they are, | |
| We independent, I' d sign on the line, | |
| The day me giving you the finger is a sign of the times, | |
| Their rhymes are designed to try diss us, but why diss us? | |
| I don' t rewind to try to find disses, | |
| Man, I just recline and mind my business, | |
| And I think in lines in rhymes, the rhyme stitches, | |
| Up the minds of the lines of dimes and fine | |
| I pen letters that kill, | |
| Then stab your neck with a feather until you' ve bled in my quill, | |
| This veteran' s ill, thinking you can better my skill, | |
| You need medicine chill a Pressure vendettas for real. | |
| Chorus | |
| It' s your round if you' re hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you' re banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop we' ve been down since, | |
| Back in the days, I' m the clown prince. | |
| It' s your round if you' re hanging at the back of the bar, | |
| So just bounce like you' re banging in the back of your car, | |
| We turn it out, Hilltop we' ve been down since, | |
| Back in the days when I was a teenager. |