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the bbq song - mass mc lyrics

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[chorus: mass mc]
i’m comin’ to your barbecues [?]
i’m comin’ to your barbecues [?] no more

[verse 1: mass mc]
i was half [?] and fully freshed (freshed)
a bottle of johnnie walker at a wack barbecue
beers to top it off with black [?]
looked in my pocket, lost my [?]
two mcs near the garage, one was rhymin’
the other beatboxin’, both out of timin’
a kid was following me with his rhyme book
showin’ me his toy verses, i told him they were bomb
be strong ’cause it’s a jungle out there
i sat down and went right through the chair
i must be havin’ a bad day, it’s twenty past
took my thongs off and stood on a piece of glass
tripped over, ran my hand on the hot plate
knocked a schooner of beer in the dj’s crate
someone let off a firecracker and burned my hair
stuff your hip*hop barbecue man, i’m out of here

[chorus: mass mc]
i’m comin’ to your barbecues [?]
i’m comin’ to your barbecues [?] no more
i’m comin’ to your barbecues [?]
don’t wanna hear about that sh*t no more

[verse 2: mass mc]
on my way up, there was two chicks in the front yard
adidas trackies to hide their fat *rs*
i sucked my stomach in and tried to walk straight
if i don’t score now, another night, i m*st*rbate
i’m out of this party anyway
my stomach hurts ’cause them steaks tasted like hay
“h*llo princess, what are you doin’ later on?”
“nothin’ much with you, unless you earn a [?]
i got closer, it’s either do or die
visions of mad s*x, i saw it in her eye
one recognised me “it’s mass mc
you b*st*rd, you stole my purse when i was in sydney”
i’m not mass, my name’s mc hyjak
both started throwin’ barazas of slabs

[chorus: mass mc]
i’m comin’ to your barbecues [?]
don’t wanna hear about that sh*t no more
i’m comin’ to your barbecues [?]
don’t wanna hear about that sh*t no more

[verse 3: mc th*rn]
i stepped back and at the right time, mass had a [?]
black under his eyes, upper cuts all round
down for the [?] countdown knockin’ mcs off for the crown
i’m movin’ nothin’ but crowds, that’s how i rock now
for the underground, i hit the surface when the pressure’s on
i got mad can control (oh sh*t)
i hear the sound of the police patrol
skip to what i know, had mass to ride a class of my own
i’m known to steal the show, grab the mixer and the turns
we had to burn, jumpin’ back fences to exit
your best bet is not to invite sydney’s best
we runnin’ hardcore, mass mc featuring th*rn
we ain’t comin’ back to your barbecue no more
yo, get your mind off food brother and get your f*cking fat *rs* over the fence

[chorus: mass mc]
i’m comin’ to your barbecues [?]
i’m comin’ to your barbecues [?] no more
i’m comin’ to your barbecues [?]
and don’t you talk of that sh*t no more

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