1. |
BBVHBL Intro
00:40
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2. |
Lawn Jobs
01:58
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|
Bet they got panzers In the garage
Behind sixteen hundred Penn
Back Where Barry snuck squares
And Georgie Boy huffed guzzoline
Nixon's man cave Where he watched the Redskins
- his favorite team - Fascist brows on fleek
Smacking lips and feasting
On fistfuls of people meat
Cleaned his cheeks with neatly stacked
Maps of Cambodia
Cackled as he clapped and thought
chop chop chop
Chop chop chop
CHOP CHOP CHOP
Goes the human being lawnmower
Through the human being crop
Chop chop chop chop chop
Big swinging Dick doing me
doing pretty hot
1968 was pretty sweet, HUH?
Chop chop chop chop chop
He’s got vivid fantasies of
Big axes and little trees
Summer eves in the suburbs
Sweating in yellow-pitted white tees
Sipping on six times
one dozen OZs
Of that cheap
Cream City swill sauce
Mowing the lawn
Getting off on getting caught
Choking the Tecumseh two-stroke
Turn and cough
CHOP CHOP CHOP
Maybe creepy Mikey's
conversion therapy
Will discourage Tricky Dick
From getting fisted
During lurid prison sex
with Kissinger
In the bowels of hell
For public entertainment
In a stadium resembling the LA Coliseum.
Are you offended yet?
Well that's just locker room talk for the unacquainted
Don't be such a sissy there's no such thing as safe spaces
In an age of quarrel
World peace is the ultimate paradox
Chop chop chop chop chop
But either way
Here's a roll call for all
The civically engaged Christians
Nixon went to hell
Reagan went to hell
Herbert Walker gonna go to hell
Cheney gonna go to hell
the Clintons gonna go to hell
But the cherry top will be
When Sweet D goes to hell
He'll be Sexually assaulted
By Mephistopheles in hell
And if I'm wrong
Then so is your religion
Or is “Blessed are the peacemakers”
Just a marketing initiative
I was conceived to be the most elite blasphemer
Lebron james is Jesus Christ, JR Smith is St. Peter
Chop
So Let's go to D.C.
Let's smoke some good weed
Let's drink and drive and conspire to
Give em all
LAWN JOBS
Tire treads
LAWN JOBS
Mailboxes
LAWN JOBS
Ball bats
LAWN JOBS
Fire crackers
LAWN JOBS
Toilet paper
LAWN JOBS
Spoiled eggs
LAWN JOBS
Flaming sacks
LAWN JOBS
of dog crap
LAWN JOBS
And take the
Neighborhood back
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3. |
Hot Shot
03:14
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|
Was it done
In cold blood
Or as a random act of mercy
Randle P McMurphy
Curveball snapping off
LIKE A
FUCKING
FIRECRACKER
the warmest
love among us
Comes from above
from the
mother of all bombs
Megaton hot shot
Hot and getting hotter
Garbage pile
Private isle in the sun
Just this once
Just for fun
Annie get your gun
Annie are you OK?
Yo Annie did they stomp
On your China white
With fentanyl
Will they print your face
On the page
Or will they sell the space
In the daily sentinel
Next to where they
Make mention of
your parents' incomes
All the news that's fit to print
Pick 3s and calling hours
Well hully gee, here's to you
Lights out,
reset the router
Lisa said
They have the plant
But We have the power
Lisa said
They have the plant
But We have the power
In the holder is a cold one
In the console is the heater
And he's parked across the street
From where he used to sleep
He needs it
IT’S HOT AND GETTING HOTTER
IT’S HOT AND GETTING HOTTER
They say The devil's in the deets
try to keep em outta reach
By whatever means
Never let em hear ya scream
IT'S HOT AND GETTING HOTTER
IT'S HOT AND GETTING HOTTER
Heartland Triple bypass
Diet Cola, old Grand dad, and ice
tall glass
Barkeep, Back me up
My main man, pour me out
An old friend
Its harrowing
My Television telling me
It's the beginning of the end
we should just be
Great again
Ooh that pig is radiant
Everyone’s on heroin
Americana harakiri
Bury me at wounded knee
Cat food, brew, huffin glue
Footloose and fancy free
The noose
The news paper salutes
Barbeque weekend fancy feasts
and destitute Viet nam amputee
Change in a Paper cup
VA never gave a fuck
candy stripers
And opioids
And agent orange
Press your luck
Live your truth
What's the use?
Flew the coop
Baby boom
Party down Psilocybin
Mushroom cloud
Not even the Loudest boomers
Could remove us from
their punitive amusement
Russian roulette
Chambers loaded
Count is bloated
Two down and
Runners moving
In the holder is a cold one
In the console is the heater
And he's parked across the street
From where he used to sleep
He needs it
IT’S HOT AND GETTING HOTTER
IT’S HOT AND GETTING HOTTER
And The devil's in the deets
And they keep em outta reach
By whatever means
Make sure they hear you scream
IT’S HOT AND GETTING HOTTER
IT’S HOT AND GETTING HOTTER
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4. |
Kayfabe Days
03:37
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|
Hey baby
Oh baby
My babyface
maintain kayfabe or
We don't get paid
These days our vacant space
Escapes us
I ain't got no guarantee
I ain't got the heart to take a bump
So instead I took three
Off a key and dealt with
That irregular thump
Palpitations
Made in the USA
Approved by the food and drug
Administration
Twice a day
When you wake up
When you fade
When you labor
When you play
When you ruminate
On who they've made
A heel or a face
Yeah they say
Idle hands do devil’s work
Not construct or create
So they keep you occupied
As jobber on the take
Right and proper
Slobberknockers
They can break a man in two
Good god almighty
Don’t stop fighting
For contracts and new boots
I don’t think about it
Baby please just hit me clean
I’m so ‘bout it, ‘bout it
Give ‘em what they paid to see
I don’t think about it
Collect my check every week
And tell ‘em please
Hit me hit me hit me hit me
Crash crash crash the pose
Have a cat nap in your clothes
Grab a snack and get back in your zone
You dont ever need to go home
Cause at home you just pick up the phone
You're so lonely but you're never on your own
So take your licks
And see what sticks
And if you can't get over
Kick the habit
In your hotel bed, alone
Feeling less and less like yourself
a life that's not your own
You're a bit more like a clone
Yeah a bit more like a clown
pattern down
Repeat until loser leaves town
I don’t think about it
Baby please just hit me clean
I’m so ‘bout it, ‘bout it
Give ‘em what they paid to see
I don’t think about it
Collect my check every week
And tell ‘em please
Hit me hit me hit me hit me
Well I've been sequestered down in Texas
Attempting to address all these questions
I've been Wrestling with guessing
which beds you've slept in
Your most recent nights of passion
Oh, I'm so enlightened tell myself
You're a sweetheart
So I keep part
of the best parts
Of our thing
But actually I'd really rather
Not step back in the ring
Ill cut good promos
I'll work the mic
Stick to the script
Say all the right things
So I don't mean this out of spite but
I hope you've found all the makings
Of a much more interesting life
Experiential tourism
Is at its all-time height
And I swear I'm not being
Overly dramatic when I say
If you use the word wanderlust
I'll take a razorblade straight to my face
And wrap
Barbed wire 'round my fucking eyes
Cause I've seen through this
plate glass Window Before
it got cracked over my dome
I got no tricks up my sleeve
Not keeping nothing under the apron
I'm playing this one straight up
Don't think I can keep faking it
Id rather
Smoke weed
Burn bridges
Hate everyone
And love you
this world is cruel
But hey, until I blacked out
It was a dream come true
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5. |
||||
|
Keep the faith
Pray that one day
May you know
The name and face of your savior
Your lily white Nordic Christ
In the form of a bright
flash on the horizon
The unbearable lightness
Tiki torches on the Mid-Atlantic
Blood-sucking pests
Descend at summer’s' end
Show no remorse for
smashed mosquitoes
After they bite
These cities have burned
(We don’t need no water God would save us if he wanted to)
And they may yet burn again
(Burn motherfucker, burn motherfucker, purge motherfucker)
Fire and fury
(We don’t need no water God would save us if he wanted to)
Like the world has never seen
Lt Headtrip:
Eat my flesh. Drink of my blood. Chug. You’re only whole with my spirit within you. Let this be a lesson to all my beloved original sinners. The children of powerful men were made in my image; enslaved by my visage. Say grace before dinner. Take the hand of your fellow believer and be grateful you’ve witnessed my immaculate, masculine, radiant lineage. What a privilege.
These cities have burned
(We don’t need no water God would save us if he wanted to)
And they may yet burn again
(Burn motherfucker, burn motherfucker, purge motherfucker, make us pure)
Fire and fury
(We don’t need no water God would save us if he wanted us to prosper. A cleansing slaughter...)
Like the world has never seen
one-way street
In a one-horse town
With one-way people
Tryna mow us down
Domestic terrorist
Fuck your heritage
Fuck your haircut
Your DARE shirt and
Your merit badge
Slow death to proud boys
And swift death to their
proud dads
Fascist attitudes
Wanted a world
for you one day
The dream you were taught
That you wanted
Through raps of the knuckles
A lash of the belt
And a taste of the only love
You’ve ever felt
Oh well
Domestic terrorist
Fuck your heritage
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6. |
||||
|
Ring ring ring
Answer the phone
Nobody there
Just a dial tone
You’re home alone
And you’re panic-prone
Dryness in throat
Cause you’re up in smoke
You feel your pulse
But you ain’t even checking
Feel a cold breeze
on the back of your neck and
Count how many hours of your life
Been spent on the load screen
Potent weed seeds dopamine
And leave you emoting
Making faces like the wee bey gif
Can’t believe this shit
How easy it gets
To lose the gamble,
Lose your face
New blank generation
Taking up space
We kowtow bow down
To the loud mouths
Drink from the downspout
It’s a cold world and
We’re shitting in the outhouse
Are you now
Or have you ever been about
Burning ivory towers down
And turning all the power out?
Are you now
Or have you ever been
A part of the pageantry
Absent, lapsed into madness
Clapping and laughing
At the flashes and
sounds of concussive blasts
Are you now
Or have you ever been
Mutually assured of destruction
And our collective comeuppance
We’re dead meat for the buzzards
But we want them to love it
Are you now or have you ever been
Stoned and starving
Roaming alone through the darkness
Blowing out your eardrums
To the sounds of the Karmas?
(Burnem)
Are you now
Or have you ever been
In possession of evidence
Of any alien intelligence
Any type of information
That might lead
Someone who didn’t know better
To question the fucking relevance
The wise will not trifle
With the elements
Piss into the wind
And fire rifles at the televisions
Pipe down, swallow your medicine
And medicate with the rest
Of the disciples till armageddon hits
You’re so dependent
On your independent sentiments
So sentimental and
Sensitive with your temperaments
Get so defensive when we go
To raise your rent a bit
Don’t make us have to show you
The discipline as it benefits (???)
Sentinel, sentinel eye
Ever watchful
So smile for the cinema
Raining down out of digital skies
Keep your face glued and
Stay tuned to your antenna
Are you now
Or have you ever been willing
To forget all of your
Affiliations
To maintain against the grain
To abstain from waking up
And tasting artificial maple flavored
candy covered bacon
We’ve sugar-coated every last grain
On this animal farm
Where they label us free range
And we’re twisted by the arms
To spin satisfying yarns
On the obituary page
Will you die with a flag in your hand
And a hymn in your heart
And the blinking light of
The alarm cutting through the dark?
You can’t hit restart
You can’t build an ark
You can’t find a place to park
You can’t play your cards
Will you play your part
In clogging up carotid arteries
In cutting O2 to the brain
‘Scuse me, pardon me
I got a job to do
Please move there’s a lot of me
Living off beef and broccoli
Praying to hit the lottery
|
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7. |
Knee Deep
02:13
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|
How many war metaphors about you
Can I use when I'm home all alone
Fanning flames inhaling fumes
Knee deep in the shores of hell
But hey, enough about me
How are you?
If you're free and feeling needy
Well I'm willing to be used
I’ll let ya look right through me
Talk to me like ya never knew me
I'll be anything you need
Oh you're out here coolin
Making every single dude look foolish
tell me what you want from me
I'm slowly being ripped apart
Surviving on the fields of Mars
Out here searching for the
Keys to your heart
It's driving me crazy
I'm going berserk
Don't wanna have no fun
Don't wanna work
Don't wanna
think about you
and your new guy
I'm sure he's cute but he
Could never be your doom guy
I been runnin down my demons with a loaded gun
I been so lonely hoping that I'm not the only one
Like a good catholic boy you got me on my knees
My preferred deadly sin is greed and I just wanna
kiss your feet
Oh pretty please my pretty green
alien queen I'm just a man
A feeble being
Flesh and bone and eating
Empty words I keep repeating
It's no use
My perfect future was your cute tough
cherry red leather boots
Stomping on my human face forever
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8. |
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|
Blastmaster Baker
Cro-Magnon man dragged through the streets
Parade on the day of his feast
Sacrifice!
depravity tastes like a treat
A sign of his faith
Or A mark of the beast?
Either way - fait accompli
Pass him the ashtray
Lay palms at his feet
Castigate Man who defaults on his lease
And appease Man the Beast
With the absence of Meat
Stay vigilant
Stay stations of the cross
Stay making listicles
Stay placing faith in symbols
Stay crucifix, swastika,
star stripe hammer sickle
Stay indivisible stay pissed
Stay pagan rituals stay Reagan youth
Stay meatless monday
Stay verdun
Stay human meat grinder
Stay Sid stay Nancy
stay Say No To Drugs
Stay play the game the right way
Stay the fuck home
SKECH185
Liquor Store hologen hums with the pastors. I'm numb to the ranting. They branded us Hammites. And sanded down statues. Now stranded in madness. With foreign Modonnas, the bronzemans fortune has been masonry. Patiently building a fortress of of banners and Bannikers. This mystery sheepherder is panicking. He walks by himself. The flocks is at the range and checking each other for fangs. Long gone is the time to "Play Dead." On a stage we built play dead in the land of these wolves trying pay rent. Or "play dead" in a room full of efforts to get famous for neighbors because sometimes when we "play dead" we don't get back up. No treats, just treatments when we "play dead" praying for a slow week or play dead artist trying to explain a living struggle. Or the jungle to a tourist who thinks saying "play dead" deserves a pat on the head.
Lt Headtrip
95 diatribes nailed to the doors of the shrine to your paleo lord. Heretic.
Displayed in his arian form, he domineers under a veil of decor. Profiteers robed to the horns. So Pope he could dodge sheer war crime horror. Fear. Blessed is he who obeys the appointed. Spayed in the name of creation and glory. You shake in the presence of your maker. You tremble. Living is reprehensible. Citizens are expendable. Your reverend’s sins are venerable. Give him a shake. Shake my divine primate paws and your habitual individualism. The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness while his toiling soldiers shake in their braces and shake their fists at their ventriloquist whose tremors shake loose their embroidery. Born again militants poorly stitched together. Shake it off. Kill for this.
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9. |
An Act of Contrition
03:14
|
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|
Pulled up to the house
And I cut the lights
Left my car in your
Neighbors driveway that night
You said something bout splittin
But I was not listening
just wanted to be
your coping mechanism
And see what we
Could possibly get to that night
I know that you know
That we won’t be home
No matter where we go
It’s all for show
You slept on the couch
I slept on the floor
I never slept much
When I slept on that floor
We took communion
Then I split for bed stuy
You said goodbye twice
I hoped you'd turn a third time
But instead I ended up window shopping
For pretty city girls
I’m so drunk tonight
I know that you know
That we won’t be home
No matter where we go
It’s all for show
I burned out the days
I burned out the nights
And I'm burnt out right now
As I sit down to write
As you fight the good fight
As an act of contrition
I'd contribute my fists
But they're of no assistance
I know they won't help you
And I know you don't need them
I don't believe in Kings or Queens and
See why you're leaving
But I still walk past your place
If I find a reason
I'm seeking asylum
Or my Height With Friends shirt
Sweet freedom
Stupid human
There's futility in trying
But nobility in losing
Wanna be your muse for
brutal executions
And a useful tool
For your 45 Revolutions
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10. |
A Rainy Day in SOHO
02:29
|
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|
It’s damn cold for late April
This damn winter’s been hateful
It’s a rainy day and we’re miles away
From making acquaintances with pay dirt
Good thing i wore a few layers
And inhaled quite a few vapors
To take me away from this vacant state
Before going the way of the evening paper
The buffalo, my catholic faith, darth vader
The common trait is they all
Came face to face with abatement
Is that a harsh statement or plain observation
About the way our man appears this day
As he is found in nature
Playing a game of space invaders
In his brain — let them take the sky scrapers
It might make us safer
Might make us a little bit safer
Might make us a little bit safer
Make those whole place a little bit safer
So when we’re caught in the rain
And the motherfucking thunder
I stare at the sky and
i start to wonder
Where will i be standing
When the high rises tumble?
Where will i be standing
When the sidewalks crumble
Will there be any time to run
When it rumbles
Will i die in the ruins
Of the concrete jungle
Will i sleep easy in the catacombs
Deep beneath the street
Wondering how many times
Has it happened previously
We’ve been brought to our knees
Time is infinite, man,
Am i to believe
That there hasnt been a million
New york cities pre-2018?
Sucka pleas
Whether we step on skulls or
We walk on water
We better maintain
An upright posture
It separates us from the apes
And helps you sell your fucking tapes
When all the other rappers won’t bother
It might make us harder
Might make us a little bit harder
Might make us a little bit harder
Make this whole place
A little bit harder
So when we’re caught in the rain
And the motherfucking thunder
Staring at the skies
And we’re left to wonder
Can we take solace knowing
there are others
Struggling to maintain a
Place to take cover
Struggling to maintain a
Face that stays tougher
Struggling to grasp
That its all a game of numbers
And we’re just beads on an abacus
With deep-seeded avarice
Basking in the hataclaps
And laughing at our cowardice
So we don’t feel so powerless
When looking at an hourglass
And yapping about how
Grains, ashes, dust and cliches
Will devour us
That’s that good shit
That loud shit
That fire and brimstone
Beyond thunderdome
Fury road
Cataclysmic shit
And youre too legit
To quit movin kid
|
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11. |
Yer Enlightened Despot
04:31
|
|||
|
The sign on I-77 said Hell Is Real
I was dissecting Ohio
I said where you the fuck you been?
29 going on forever
Known that vengeful gods
Tend to live along rural highways
Evaluation day
The key word here is values
Values!
So they treat us to
The sweetest dead aborted
baby fetus photos
They can dream up
To beef up good fear
Start with mirepoix for your
Human meat stew
I could teach you
What it looks like when your
Skin is see-through
I've been seeking a new test
In how many ways can we say
"Bad things" and "mike Pence"
In the same sentence
Better ask the NSA
If that's ok to say
I truly don't know
But what's free speech mean
besides
A discharge song
And the right to hatespeak
And scare preach?
Or Is it just me
And a privileged flippant attitude
towards peace and war
today I complained
When they were outta grated cheese
At at my pizza store
When I become
Your enlightened despot
I'ma run roughshod
I'ma make heads drop
When I become
All that you believed I could be
I'll revert back into dirt
After I burn the Holy See
But see, if mom asked
I'd go to mass on Christmas Eve
As a common courtesy
Come on, I mean, she's really sweet
But, really, what I mean is
dead police
Behead the priests,
Eat pussy in the streets
Eat fifty strips of LSD
Then feed some to
The DEA and lace their babies' plates
With crack cocaine
And guns
And tell 'em
Jesus
doesn't even
Know yer name, kid
When I become
Your enlightened despot
I'ma run roughshod
Ima make heads drop x4
The sign on I-77 said Hell is Real
The sign on I-77 said Hell is Real
The sign on I-77 said Hell is Real
The sign on I-77 said Hell is Real
Hell is
Here
We should’ve seen the grand conceit
if it smells cheap
Then It sells cheap
An American classic
A stale hero With 3 slices of Kraft cheese
hashtag Fake food
A stab in the absence of
Light waves the last gasp
of a sad cadre of bad men
playing save face
making up new wars
Say hey, man,
Let’s go for The Hat Trick
Let’s shoot for the stars
make a Space force
Ooh baby
Let’s re-capture the magic
Let’s flatten these lousy bastards
And then cash out the ranch
Hand out Organic salad
And we’ll sell ‘em the farm
And we’ll hash out the finer points
Of the contract while we
Wage a savage barnstorming tour
Carpet bomb the flyover states
Like Vietnam
And treat the coastal elites
To a peace treaty spelled out
In HTML
They’ll pat their backs real swell
While the world burns
a roast on a spit
they swim In the drippings of
Slit-throat, fresh plucked
Succulent free range chickens
I guess that’s us
Ah fuck
I literally just witnessed
Lebron James to the lakers
And with him gone
And dr Manhattan living
on mars
We’re naked
There are no gods left to save us
And frown down on our hideous bodies
Make us ash amed to know
We’re fully exposed
While the emperor dons his new clothes
And assholes unabashedly
Keep telling him that he’s handsome
While I’d rather
Aim a ratchet at his feet
Ask the motherfucker to start dancing
This is not a peacekeeping mission
This is police action
Take the neighborhood back
In spectacular fashion
|
||||
WATKK
WATKK is an independent hip-hop label curating unapologetically unique music.
WATKK recommends:
We teamed up with our NYC homies Backwoodz Studioz, Reservoir Sound, Uncommon and Smoker's Cough to bring you the dopest of NYC's underground on the same album.
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