[Verse 1]
I'm not too concerned with rappers dissing me
I burnt bridges and turkey slapped the industry
I told critics, learn to act with dignity
My whole crew struggled to earn rap validity
I'm from a city of trials and tribulations
A lot of good friends deprived of liberation
Underworld killings, violent intimidation
Only the strong survive the situation
It's hard enough trying to hold your own
Without the weight of the world trying to overload
I go toe to toe with most of you blokes
And comatose ya homophobic bogan flows
Don't you know, not to grab the mic
With the same old punch line battle rhymes
Appetite for destruction like the anti-christ
Looking like choir boys running from paradise
[Hook]
Propaganda, Propaganda
I can't believe I forgot to thank ya
The whole wide world's like what a wanker
And they keep on, keep on, keep on dumbing it down
Propaganda, Propaganda
I ain't heard shit bout what you stand for
Everyone knows that your not a gangster
And you keep on, keep on, keep on dumbing it down
[Verse 2]
I don't carry a knife, I cook rappers alive
My hooks damage ya mind, like Suge Marion Knight
The bangers I write, I look fans in the eye
And ask em why this bullshit happens in life
Take away the cameras and lights, managers hype
All you gots the people who'll stand by your side
Put your hands in the sky like a shantaram
Tomorrow we're coming down like an avalanche, what?
My live shows like a fat-a-gram
On a tight rope, in some hammer pants (biatch)
You couldn't rock a rent-a-crowd on new year's
With free liquor, cheap strippers with huge *tits*
The truth is you need to start saving your shoe money
Paying ya dues instead of chasing the punani
Fucking with Pegz, I'ma take ya to school sonny
Ya out of ya depths in an inflatable pool party
[Hook]
Propaganda, Propaganda
I cant believe I forgot to thank ya
The whole wide world's like what a wanker
And they keep on, keep on, keep on dumbing it down
Propaganda, Propaganda
I ain't heard shit bout what you stand for
Everyone knows that your not a gangster
And you keep on, keep on, keep on dumbing it down
[Verse 3]
I got brother's fecious, blood on my sneakers
You don't wanna see Obese jump through the speakers
Suffa's a genius, your just another defeatist
Writings on the wall like puzzler pieces
We love graffiti like junkies and street kids
Don't know what I'm saying better fucking read it
I'ma crew member since Menzie's Ave youth centre
Never give into the politics and group pressure
I got more loose screws than Hugh Heffner
With a gold Rolex from a bootlegger
Keep ahead of the pack like dole bludgers
Bone crushing lyricist, hit em like Joe Bugner
Grip the microphone, clip em like toe cutter
Treat them like hoes, don't give em my phone number
