Tekst:
Hilltop Hoods Hard Road

down the hard road, down the hard road Don't know where I've been and don't know where to go its like Going down the hard road, down the hard road Don

a hard road, down the hard road, Don't know where I've been, and don't know where to go its like, Going down a hard road, down the hard road, Don't

Going down a hard road, down the hard road, Don?t know where I?ve been, and don?t know where to go its like, Going down a hard road, down the hard road

[Intro: Spoken] "When people hear about some pyscho killer, it can lead them to thinking about the nature of people, which leads to thoughts about right

Verse One ? Pressure In life, we struggle as individuals, A fine line between a cliche saying and something original, As if in death we left something

it?s on, I?m trying to do for rhyme what digital cameras did for porn, Born in a small town, die with a big mouth, Hoods tore it all down, shouts to the

and we looked up to them like they were rockstars paint stained hands and fame like manson thats charls not marylin that city held to ransom cans and markers country road

by the rubbish that we pump in the street My foots always in my mouth they just can't stomach defeat I'm a master these until it's hard to breath It's Hilltop

lot pimping yeah.. you people know mys whos flows crazy and its so gravy it should come with a bowl of rice the MBS with the hilltop hoods making bboys