Free download
Been compared to a couple of Rocks (Chubb and Aesop), Insomniac, Holocaust, Gift of Gab and plenty others i've since forgotten. Good solid hip hop.
Song Info
Genre
Charts
#142,525 today
Peak #1,228
#88,722 in subgenre
Peak #666
Author
Sankofa
Rights
2005
Uploaded
February 07, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.5 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Story behind the song
I felt like writing to a beat and had none, this contest showed up and I figured "why not?"
Lyrics
Fame…
Talk about it, walk without wit
Walking awkward talking proper, when I lock it down
The flock is drowning, heat rocks the Cops surrround the detox
Colossal lost and found, the profit dropped a pound
I Knocked it down, ground into the finest dust
Midas touch, slight adjustment for pariah bucks, I line them up
A sign of lust plus cats stride and strut, dust that for fingerprints
Stinging since man I, sting and rinse
Singing pimps, swinging chimps rinse cling and glimpse
Imps do the organ grinder, mortified the sort of rimer
Pour divine wine the borderline disorder kind of conflict
Stethoscope dope, palms slick
Smoking wraiths, opened safes, golden rope is placed over necks
No regrets, lurking streets leaking sober breath
Dope cassette are played back, rusty spindles stay scrap
357 on a fake hip…As hat
Parades crash, hammer dancer with a track to score
Packed for war, see the neoprene scheme back for more
Diva queens fiend adidas teams who need a dream
Follow the liter with your metric,-repeat the scene
kaledoscopic batch of flashbacks patched into a crazy quilt
Rap with a lazy lilt, he may be ill
Feigning skill long enough to hold the title down
Long enough to pose pretty ‘til the final round
Vinyl bound, Tilly and Gina Gershon before the matrix
The 4th wall floor escapist, death and taxes only more contagious
Driven by a force of hatred, watching it all burn down…to carbon for the fourth occasion
Corpse abrasive
Pour the vases
For the sadist say this
…
scared cats compare their wax
turning on the TV, but all it does is blare back
the air's black but it doesn't seem to stop a thing these days
beasts play in the streets as a priest prays
snotnosed seeds wander in their PJs
while their parents freebase in another bleak maze
each day's another uninvited guest
roadmaps to peace are the kind undermined with stress
death of all type connects to make an instant bond
guess that's why the radio plays nothing but sin in song
been a long time coming...the reaper appears
a candle on the corner, a wreath and a tear
it's not ceasing this year and people care even less
trying to make a mark, instead they're leaving a mess
deep in the cess, no lifeguard at the cracked pool
not too many pay attention unless you act a fool
best to get the garbage bags and start packing them up
sickness is apathy...a pathogen plus
It’s rust stacked to the ruts, acting tough is the way to go
by any means some are making the dough
sad but true many dreams die of old age at 25
shortened quickly on any given night
killers slipping by cause nobody will speak
...bloody streets stricken with a cunning disease
plundering thieves squeeze wondering how long a breath lasts
old timers at the windows sitting steadfast
watching the red spread faster as the shots reverberate
another for an early grave, lost with a thirty eight
frost and the dirty scrapes of a gravedigger's shovel
the cask breaks and makes a way bigger puddle
what'll be reported? not much, bums with their rot gut
numbed from the slums where the young got stuck
washed up…the beach is seen on faded postcards
kids on bikes who whistle are the coastguards
cops roll by in unmarked cars
wondering why they bother, cause some scar hard
and some don't learn, but a few just might make it
resisting temptation until that plush ride came in
a Hummer with 24s, driver maybe 15
slick rims pristine as the Sistene
a diamond link in the rough for kids to idolize
a new recruit, dollar signs in shiny eyes
Columbine's a world away where dead youth are newsworthy
reporters don't want to get their hands too dirty
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