exhausted, Keep it going cause I'm living my dream, Till the grave we'll spit the pain and, when it comes to picture painting, We might be the illest rated with the visuals illustrated, That's ill communication, therapy for life without the rehabilitation, Keep waiting I'm about to blow up Pressure Verse 3 We about to blow it up, but we all started this as amateur, Carving out a path was a hardship for the traveller, It said that raps a facade, you'll never manage it, In these parts, I guess it's our scars that give us character, We misfits and slackers, at risks kids or hackers, With a wish list, sick of doing six shifts at Macca's, From listeners to rappers, prestigious to hapless, I don't need a gift to know that this shit is backwards, When we're done officially another visionary, Will lights the flame, write their name in their sweat, blood and infamy, It's gutter symphony fuck the industry, Let them come we're the ones carving history, So we rhyme for the hurting, poor hard working for, International heard applaud to local suburban tour, Y'all gave a purpose for the roar when the curtains draw, Furthermore ask yourself what you're searching for? Solo Verse 4 Follow me to a place I like to go, Liner notes are signposts to find that which lies below, Born in eighty eight so I came in late, To find for the first time in life I felt right at home, Through the