The Certificate

The certified have arrived, extraordinaire extravagant

Beers like confidence, man I'm drinkin' until I'm arrogant

Cause I'm a cocky ****, Hit your girl and I knock her up

Girly what the ****? In the net like a hockey puck. (score!)

Rappers get embarrassed when they see the way that we work

They try hard to (sherm) like fat guys swimming in T-shirts

Research your Oz hip-hop, before you step to us

And if you step, hands around your throat like a necklace

Missed the drum, young ladies gimme a call

My number's written next to ******* on the Chicks bathroom wall

I'm slightly easy and a try bit sleazy

With the wit of a red brick and chiselled body of Kim Beazley

My theory is, never touch the mic quite serious

A kid goes out on dates later than their next period

My crews got it made, rockin the place

With more **** rappers to match every branch here to colonnade

It's Certified Wise, no need to tell you again

Because these cunts can be so funky that the smell would offend

A dyke's girlfriend dog, now lets get straight to the point shall we

This rowdy crowd of MC's and DJ's know how to pound beats

Like kids with flat feet and crap beats walking down backstreets

So much work went into this to line the notes of fact sheets

Like black sheep I've got two words for those who slept

(nya, Nya nya nyoooo)

You thought it was safe, well guess what (what?)

Boys then beware; my friends will find your weak points (then what)

Get up in there.

Attack your mind, with a fine rhyme when I find time

And I'll find out that you're walking if you're talking the grape vine

I'll waste time. Need to take on the job at hand.

The skills for this profession typical certified wise man

From Sky to land, I'm overcoming all your schemes and plans

So take cover as I rain thunder upon you man

Every songs a collection of kids charmed lives

Like the porn section of gary glitters hard drive

Certified Wise throws a jam thats so hot it'd

Make a married man give up his annual blowjob

You better show somethin, with headin no bluffin

On the wrong side of my tracks, I'll smash your petticoat junction

In a suffering city, I'm punishing the pretty

And if you dont ******* feel me I'll crush you without pity

I arrange certain words amongst silence

To be heard in abundance while MCs face redundance

Stereo speakers exceed beyond specifications

Through extended noise generation

Let's cut the conversation to a small chat (why's that?)

I'm busy trying to react to the hi-hat

Blockade and certified stand tall above ridiculous under-achievers

And constant non-believers

I'm on stage with a handful of panadols handin them out

Cos of the head throbbin from the head noddin

And we about puttin you out for the count like mic check,

You aint gonna get certified respect

So hide your decks, ya mics I might blackout

In a cypher when I still take the title

The name's Sesta, I snatch an L plate and slap it on your forehead

With more force than *******

--unfinished--