Milk Bar Star

[Verse 1] I'm a milk bar star - make em' catch on fire Making rappers bite in to the appetizer This is hot shit spitting like a magmagizer You couldn't stop it with a tranquilliser Bang your head like a crash-test taxi driver The French iron chef with an ankle grinder Marinate your thoughts in plutonium whiskey With a beat that makes you wanna scream "show me your titties!" Stoninking city, home of the gritty Coming together like the moon and sun solar eclipsing Burn a whole in your pocket like a pokie addiction Smoking cigarettes and socially drinking I Know what you're thinking, show me the headlines Where's the 10 billion in petrolium excise Red lights flashing like Columbian neck ties Green lights flashing like a couple of Jedi's She got a motor like a V8 stoker Work mc's like a 6 speed DJ's Noah Cos she's been around the block and don't play for keeps Who is she - A two inch tape machine (sucker) She won't call, won't pick the phone up Got a draw full of toys and vikrum yoga Ignoring my voice like a sickning odour Got a, lift my game and quit the dozier Got a, win her over set my charges And try act like the sex is irrelivant She made me go down and test every element Every dallied depart magnetically talented I feel like telling her I'm leaving tonight But committing suicide ain't speakin' my mind I'ma fight and forgive her, put the chink in her sight She was a princess back when I was treating her right Life's a bitch with a score to settle Twisting my strings like contorted metal Stepping on my heart like a distortion pedal She's just a worn medal, war memento She's been down before the SP12 A lot of hip hop brothers know the prestige sound Extra gritty with the sexy image Who is she - The MP60 [Verse 2] We rise up like the steps of the favela And jump off the ledge with an umbrella Setting the bar stellar with a blazing guitarist The next generation of Australian artists Straight out the bloody rib cage of a carcas Public enemy with my face on the target Take your best shot like Henry Shavonte Hip Hop's more decedent than 70's rock A lot of whack ass rappers got a Bentley and yaught On some pop shit softer than Beckham and Posh And the devil made em' do it like Bush and Howard Strange voices in their head like Woody Allen