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BLAS NYC
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BLAS NYC
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36 Tracks
Diversified Portfolio, Cuban-American Hip-Hop
In rank and file, we moved for miles, on lands defiled, passing through the plasma spewed by man and child. Had no clue these savage brutes did plan such vile, massive tombs expanding to the banks of the Nile. Yet all the while, we knew their roles, as tortured souls, forced to go to borders known out of control. Hoped to show their sorts they're no victims of rogues, so they strolled on open roads infants in tow. The stage was set, the calm had passed, instant regret, crept upon as men were armed with pistols and threats. Swarmed them all with roars of long-distance contempt, formed from bonds torn apart since it was wrecked. The grip of death, grasped them next, ripped at their flesh, children clenched from women drenched in liquids dense. Shrills were sent from living necks to village tents willed with every spill of memory that they had kept. Not one was left, when we arrived, still having guessed, some survived by love or pride to relive their steps. Strung from vines the young were lined as marionettes, hung to die as undefined bodies gone limp. Embodiments, they serve post death, though harshly grim, such acts of violence touched the mind of all we've met. Tough sacrifices scratched the lives of all the spent, as man's device of genocide caused these deaths. 1 BLAS 2009 Before the spawning of ominous harm befalls upon us forms the dawn of a phenomenal spore sort of drama Weâre conceived to roam free in a center of placenta Unindentured except for lifelong bonds that connect us As our vastness of matter expands by each traction from a vat of aquatic expanse that weâve swam in new appendages extend in this fenced in contraption soon intended for inevitable descent into action This festival of developmental aura fills our core up with protease that sures up our proteins & organs Our growth spans in inches almost as an infants in a visceral existence before miserable can hit us Unwarned of the course we head for an abyss get torn out with force from this large orifice Our cord beckons forth and gets shorn with a clip then pour our first roar with one forge of a wrist Henceforth weâll endure even more terrorism & stray from the core as unsure rendered victims New days spent since vacant from our incubation facing a placement that makes our views tainted Awakened to hatred found given through skin ingrained yet baseless as original sin What fate that weâd make it from swimming in wombs to soon equate that this sacred living is doomed 1 BLAS 2006 In an sullen, harsh and sordid year of our Lord We stood as warring soldiers clear of our cause Born to defend a pride so dear to our hearts Sworn to repent & fight the fear from the start Upon iron-claded steeds, we transpired gallantly Fighters, Knights & Squires, all attired, man and beast We put down our sanities, picked up our swords of steel & banded towards the field upon which we were forced to kill Our shields were drawn until, the horns were blown to warn that the march was on for those we had grown to scorn As kings had watched us on, a storm of arrows poured to shatter chords, splatter organs & leave our marrow torn We mourned, yet battled forth, a reformed, embattled corps whose straggled core was thick with deformed & mangled sorts At last we tangled swords, fists, limbs & guts were mauled until piles of ugly humps & bloodied stumps gushed or crawled Each squad, still up to brawl, resigned, yet tough to fall kept grinding forth & fought until only God could cut them off Until all lines met death in awe, & declined from nth to naught did the kings not feel contrite, chagrined, or accept their faults Reconcile attempts were called, but w/o men were now left prone to revolts growing in size, toppling them down from their thrones As for the souls who lost their lives, defending honor, pride & home their voices can be caught at night.. in haunting sounds of cries & moans 1 BLAS circa 2007 If a tree falls in the forest, is it caused by corporate injustices, left unchecked that forces destructiveness, bringing death to scores of chipmunks and shit, no regrets from heartless Republicans, better yet, of course its refunded with, endorsements in forms of bonds from the government, offered instead of enforcing harsh punishments, then soften laws that afford it to flourish in, a forest fallen target to stock bidding errors, absorbing the life out of an oxygen bearer, shorn down in size to be chopped, split & severed, or adorned with lights & not live in pleasure, now deformed with a slice & torn from its roots, to be shorn into white paper, more than is used, once a blooming free sept who leaves lept to a steep, next a family tree spent to be sent to the heap. 1 BLAS circa 2007 There's no big mystery.. You're born, you die.. the rest is history. It's simply the way of the world - full-circle misery. where misers are wiser than they provide, as our lives grow less priceless over time. Awaiting signs from a shrine that's divine while our minds show less shine or decline. Until we pine away in a man made casket or rest on a mantle as canned, saved ashes. No planned days after, as a hand praying Catholic or damned days fashioned by Yahweh's Sabbath. Just a sham blip in the past - too swift & too back for the kids of my kids to relive or revamp. Not fit for a stamp, or sang off a cliff. Never to be spoken or thanked from any man's lips. I was your mother, your brother, your lover, your friend, until I suffered, was cut up or covered - The End! 1 BLAS circa 2007
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