1. |
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Fuck a Bateman- Patrick and Sean
Same sense of entitlement
Glitch in the cog
I'm a fist to the noggin'
Clicks when it cocks back
Sore knuckles bust, but it's worth it
Trust me
Female Fiend Sample:
Let's Start A War
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2. |
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Clear my head, if i can’t write it i can’t say it
Too often i regret the way i fly right off the chains
I don't know a fucking thing
I just get told that i’m the best
and let it go right to my head up to the point that I can’t clear it
Note to self: stop scrolling mindless shit
Stop tapping at your pockets frantically when you can’t feel it
You’re failing at taking control of what you feel and do
You promised back before that you would quit that which consumed
I don’t even view the scenery when driving during sunset
I could care less of the animals we drive past
I’m mindless, I’m spineless
I’m dying from anxiety
I find existence hopeless, that’s why i’m always trying to leave
But i am trying to be exactly who you see me as
And when i gaze upon the world i don’t see faces gazing back
But it ain’t often i unlock my eyes from the screen
And when I do, they immediately move to my queen
I’m a fiend for the fire hearted fists
Quarter life crisis
Signs of the end
I am like dirt, just a little more formed
Cyanide hurts, but that’s kind of my norm
Time of my life, just the eye of my storm
I am like mike, always hanging from a corner of the round rim called emotional disorders
Sort of seems like quiet nights might be the bane of my existence
And i am not here for your business, just listen:
Most of my friends don’t even know me by my real name
Just a photo on a website and a tendency to share memes that correlate with how they think and speak like shit to strangers
But i am no savior, and i need a break too
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3. |
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today i heard the dopest beat in my entire life
the kind of thump that makes you feel like everything’s alright
the simplest of rhythms had me forcing back a cry
the movement it inspired will sit with me the rest of my entire life, but i don’t mind
i’m a happy host of futures undefined
throw a line into the riverbed and reel in the night
jitterbug, little critter
creatures taking flight
sit upon a cliff and ponder how i’ve spent my life
i’m psyched at most the moments, but i have a few regrets
like every time i sacrificed myself to seem cool to my friends, and when i treated people i had never met before like they were less
if testing’s the intention, i might walk right out the class
but if the lesson at the root is worth the struggle just to pass, then i guess i’ll have to bite my tongue and sit on both my hands
can’t depend on my mind to be much more than problematic
static in the airwaves, i’m leaving most the past at it
trying to grow past that
retain a couple answers to any questions that you might have
you’re my last divine act
teach me all you learn
is this a blessing, or a curse?
are we alone until we die alone, or do we flock like birds?
i’m certainly uncertain, but i’m certain of one thing: the day that i am certain is the day that i’m not me
i play to a dropped key
i say what i mean
i feel everything i feel almost too intensely
CHORUS
i’m a child with a child on the way
life’s a smile with a strange tinge of grey
this don’t feel like a fair fight we’re dealing with
reminds me of air when you take it away
*POPE ADRIAN BLESS*
i remember when i lost my nose ring fucking you in that trap house
questioned commitment
my intention was not to back out
2am off of pills and i’m driving, and i’m bout to black out
excited, but yet i’m nervous
heaven-sent, but yet i’ve seen hell
in the kitchen, reloading teen shells
seven teens, nine teens
you know i mean well
i’m suicidal regardless, you know my dream shell
medication just numb it
but check it out, cause when your girl hate you, it’s gonna feel like the world hates you
mirror may i, mirror may i never imitate me
but little blessings of pride
road to redemption i ride dirty suspended l’s
my options were either dead or jail
penal system soft from a pistol shell
tell me how it feels, i study braille
blind to the fact
blind as a bat when we’re in the trap
robbin’ you jokers for dead grace and attacking you flash can’t avenge
i wanna tell you things you never seen
show you things you ain’t ever heard
wolf in sheep clothing, i love my herd
the jungle is packed
owl god in the bird cage whistling back
*ABLE JON*
no one can understand me apparently the way you do already
your personality’s mine and your own at the same time
it’s uncanny
now i’m reflecting on the sins of the family
my father and mama, too
i hope to spare you from the scars and from the damage that drama do
and try to remember what it was like to be the same age as you
i want to teach you everything i know
to think critical and force the claim that’s made to show
don’t be cynical, wherever there is life there’s hope
be an individual, don’t follow where the others go
sing along to the song until the lyrics flow
till you learn to do the same and maintain control
the brain is the throne of the soul
give it the wisdom and the knowledge that it needs to grow
an introduction to karma will not be harmful to any sentient being
regardless of age, art every day
don’t put your heart in a cage, but let the artifice fade until you’re additive free
and it’s a habit to be the representative of a sentimental dismemberment
the unconventional demos of memos you never sent
i’m deconstructing myself, cause the ego’s like everest
start starving the demons out, and if it grieves you, i’ll sever it
hard heartedness is empty and jealousy’s devilish
i got armfuls of armor i left behind me with a death wish
now my third lung breathless
perturbed tongue restless
absurd wordsmiths represent a higher message
i’m a dream fundamentalist
take it from me: it ain’t to be or not to be, it’s to be
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4. |
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five finger discount
four finger paddy wagon
ask a snail to borrow shell
you can’t imagine how much fun i’m having
caviar and black tar- roads, who you kidding?
i’m an old man, gold panning
can’t remember what it’s like to win things
sing till the bell in my head rings, then put on headphones
sit with my memories like my dog sits with his bone, and chew until my teeth break
beefcake, religious kind of arguments
just because i have a penis doesn’t mean i’m like you, man
i’m standing hard like a walk that john c reilly once sang songs about
you try to tell me how to do this better, you should probably shut your damn mouth
you’re grounded, founded on belief that skin and testes make you superior
i’ve been a lot of things i hate
can’t wait to hear this song next year
i’ll probably claw my ears out, drink the blood like it was beer
use the ash from fallen family to draw gothic tears upon my peepers
sleep like fevered child from 1800s southwest
count sheep but still be tyler durden when i attempt to rest
i fucking quit this simple system of symbolic symbiosis
send the sentient a swear word and my sentiment: go blow fish
*HOOTIE ROTTEN & NKNGS*
and everywhere we go, we’ve never been there before
adventure is boring
yachts floating oceans, never touching the shore
adventure is boring
and i can’t believe that the scenery here is real
adventure is boring
i hope that i never have to go back home
i hate where i come from
adventure is boring
i’m a card carrying member of a crew that holds no power here
my jurisdiction is cyber, save the locked door from whence i peer
about nine years ago i made some mistakes that changed my life
i haven’t slept the same since, i’m lucky to have found my wife
i have a life because my family stood by my side and still continues
bells and whistles fill no cups but kept the phones available
and eighteen months can change things much, but some things stay forever
take these understandings of poetic lyrics any way that you desire
i can’t change you and i don’t want to
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5. |
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CHORUS
baller, shot caller, gotta wear a shock collar
just to keep myself in check, i’m a pessimist with too much regret
got a set goal that i set forth in like two thousand plus ten
i’m, like, too foul to be upset at these punk clowns that get dumb bread, so i fuck them, like, to death, like:
“oh my god, he’s ruthless”
right?
starve at the bottom for a minute
take a quick trip to the mental clinic
sit with a shrink steady talking about every pit that i dig to the point that ended up in it
nowadays it’s all tongue in cheek
they’re all balls to the wall, but most talk is cheap
so i salt my meals with the tears of my enemies
fault my peers for the sins of their family
manage these nuts, fuck you
i don’t give a fuck about what ensues
trump is the president now, and i’m ready for the revolutionary war part two
sore to the core
set forth poor man’s worn uniform
torn into fours
two sides, two halves: left and deformed
best days test frame corner to corner
ornery disorder
way past teen angst, born into scorn
lore of dis//cours libre
free speech guaranteed to all but the alt-right
nazis die like ‘white pride goodnight’
oh damn, i don’t want to hear it like it’s bad news
so glad you ferrets found your way into my bathroom
and past noon, these lands belong to me and mine
you assholes can struggle all you want, because my folk don’t mind the tussle
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6. |
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from the moment i wake up the air is thicker when it hits my lungs
tickled drums like tree branches crack under the shaded sun
wind thick as cave soot and sand from the ocean shore
often bored, but barter many days for food to feed my young
staples of society couldn’t staple society back together
industry has torn apart the land, corrupted all the weather
better minds than mine have tried to figure out a remedy
human nature far surpasses nature’s lack of empathy
we tend to keep the peace by hiding eyes from slaughtered houses
tend to feed the people meat deprived from private slaughterhouses
mend a broken wing with lead and led the cherubs to the lake to swim
they swam for several seconds, till they sank right to the bottom
now i feel my arms and legs are pulling frantically against an undertow
i’m slow to grow, but court a passion for the tightest rope
so tie the tightest knot, been forced to tithe the righteous flock
grew tired of tides of war turning toward the tidiest and staunch
we put an end to it all, whatever you may call it
the purpose of society is as useless as a wallet
the suit and tie demeanor is a veil to mask the truth
if most of you were shown the path, you still wouldn’t know what to do with it
the shoe not only fits, it’s so damn snug it hurts your ego
i don’t own a pair of boots that match, i’ve got bloodstains on all my clothes
it’s either mine, or i’ve been fighting off some monsters while i sleep
without the city street lights, how am i to see? huh?
radiation changed the pecking order
now the danger not only lies across the border, it’s in the corner of your room spinning a web to catch the skittish and misinformed
till then just sit very quietly and act like everything is normal
media was once a tool for statist propaganda, now there are no states or television sets for them to broadcast on
bizarre to think that once upon a time people would meet inside a building, never talk, and trade leaves for food to eat like swine
bazaars are now the only place to meet and trade necessities
the well off don’t even go to save themselves the suffering
they send their slaves to beg and barter, or slaughter people’s son’s and daughters to create more slaves and sell them at a price that no survivor knows
time is so irrelevant
my clothes are made from pelts and skins
my skin is dark from dirt and sun
my son already looks the same
i’ve sang a song to lull him into sleep, but now the creatures outside of the cave are screaming bloody murder
*ALL*
i don’t want to fight no more
i have no idea what i’m fighting for
this whole war is bigger than us
these problems you don’t want to confront
you be crying like…
we struggle every sunrise just to sleep when it decides to set
fumble with distorted ideologies to represent
ten fold i’ve told these golden gods to mind their own
sell the concepts of sales to grenades before i throw them
told them since the day i first connected dots like constellations
nobody would listen, they’d just blame my lack of education
now i want to laugh right in their faces, but they’re nowhere to be found
i guess that’s where the joke remains:
buried six feet underground, i’m sound asleep when i do think of it
it never wakes me up, in fact it helps relieve me of my stress
i’ve been known to represent repressed emotional defects, and since i’m opening my chest, i might as well just call this death
i’m over fighting it
i’m over hiding it
i despise who i am, but tonight i’m lighting it on fire
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7. |
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it’s a terrifying era when a pair of lights will scare ya to the point that what you wear and listen to seems to feel dangerous
feign to the same steps taken to degrade them
fade to the same songs created to enslave- trends
cut to the point, slice right through the tendon
puff on a joint, get locked in the penn
spend more years behind bars, surrounded by violent men, than learning how to fix yourself
no rehabilitation
nah, that’s not the intention of the profiteering party
gotta get the income up by forcing everyone to argue
starting at the bottom, they’ve played every card that they were dealt, but they were slid a couple extra cause they own the dealer’s health
feelers felt the wind change come before the storm, but i’ve been burnt by kids with magnifying glasses born with no remorse, so i can’t see a foot ahead of me while scurrying the floor
yet it seems i’m better off than many more, and i can barely feed myself, so i can see where thievery originates
desperation speaks in every language in this city space
pretty faces put on boxes made by state intelligence
everything you’ve learned from watching it is pure irrelevance
CHORUS
this is exactly what they wanted to happen
the system isn’t broken, it was made this way
*kid DEAD*
i’ve woken up on cold floors, eyes been bloodshot
how many different ways can i tell you that i hate the fucking cops
wanting the nightmares to stop, but the wolves are more than scary
making me think, maybe, that i’d be off better dead and buried
the razor slice a cherry on top of a bloody sunday
and the only break i get is trading drugs for my commissary
work camp- new slavery
less than human, basically
man in the mirror, hating me
candle lit but no saving me
could really use some hope, and i’m praying my family’s okay
lock me up for dope, but doctors push that shit and get paid
breaking the locks, no keys on the waste of the mark of the beast that harbor the sheep
ain’t stopping till we knocking down all the walls of this hell and we setting em free
yuh
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8. |
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CHORUS
all i know is what i am and all i am is what i know
i can’t participate in your beauty pageants
if my words don’t paint a picture, my desire lies just short of non-existent
am i really such an object that my abject personality is a broken, but unreachable, light fixture? yes
we feed off negativity, thus it becomes reality
we lie outside, thus it becomes unspoken
keep judging for thy bantering, but never compare suffering
i’m sorry that my room was left wide open
dirty night stand with a clean square for a couple books to sit
i thought about sleeping for a couple decades
and i could come back, refreshed, from all the nights i didn’t sleep before and gorge myself on futuristic cuisine for a couple days
whatever stays, whatever goes
whoever knows would matter very little after fifty years of rest and relaxation
i am growing to a point where all i am is disconcerned, and i would stay there if i didn’t have a child on the way
i’m letting old things go in the leu of new arrivals
forgiving past transgressions from myself and from my rivals
time will tell if heaven and hell are lines that just divide us, or if both can be obtained before we die
what’s left behind is asinine- no truth behind a legacy
your pedigree may love you, but to them you’re just a memory
to the rest your best is barely read or quoted on occasion to defend ideals that you had likely never been faced with
*SmaR-T JoneS*
i don’t mock it as i knock it, cause i tried it
hands in my pockets, walking into work frightened
and it’s hard to think the world is beautiful when you’re looking at the world through a window of a cubicle
paper cut through
irrefutable
found my center in a pen as a splinter bashed through my cuticle
l-l-life is a musical
it amuses me, it soothes me, it moves me
but life is not a movie, it’s a musical from birth to your funeral at whole
at the scene, in between seams
so delusional
but life is dilutable, just like a cup of water
and that cup can turn crucible to make that water hotter
so raise your sons and daughters not to boil over
so they can do the same with their own when they grow older
l-l-life is a folder, holding memories and files
changing pictures and stories as they stretch out for miles
t-t-tightly woven tiles of colors and senses make up our entire world and existence
and it could all be gone in a flash
yes, and instance
and we’d look back and laugh at it’s insignificance
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9. |
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no, i will not tolerate intolerance
period
no, i will not degrade black lives or black blocs
no, i will not step on you for the place of your origin
no, i will not judge you by your genitals or who you love
no, i will not worship a crumbling empire
i’m growing tired of justification for hatred
i’m taking the low road and patiently waiting for subterfuge
i’m reading bookchin and chalmers and pushing the limits of socialist media
sacrifice my life in the form of a war torn meditation
i’m not an accelerationist, i’m just hopeful
spoke to the masses, most of them laughed
motivated at making this music to last
i might seem like an asshole
what did you do to deserve it?
i promise i’m not a mean person
nor am i perfect, i do go berserk
i’ve attacked my family for less than worse than that
and that’s not sadness, it’s just regret you hear shaking in the back of my neck
tackling the myths of man
passion for a symphonic jam
static on the channel make shit spark
chapped lips licked to withstand his cold heart
flat on his back, just your regular old martyr
antifascist game, match, set
i’m taking flames to cocktails
burning
pace myself for revolution
learning from each stalemate
the devil’s advocate is just a name you give yourself to make you feel okay with the fact that you’re an asshole
sorry, not sorry
you’re not raising anyone’s consciousness by being a fucking edge lord
stop whining when your peers call you our for being one
sorry, not sorry
i’m sorry i don’t go out so you think i don’t support you
i’m sorry i’m too poor to buy your albums
i’m sorry i forget how to be social with my friends
i’m sorry you haven’t learned that this is who i am
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10. |
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my best friends are blockheads, fairies and queens
the rebels, the disenfranchised, the unseen
my crew’s made of transients crossing all scenes
my whispers sound more like a scream
i’ve worn dresses to funerals- tuxes to parties
the crux is that i’m not confined to my body
my makeup is shoddy
i’ll wear it for days
sometimes i’m gaudy and sometimes i’m plain
i’ve heard some people say that i would never make it
i’m like, “okay, let’s play the sacred game of constant anguish…”
i’m floating, face down in a swimming pool of constant anxious thoughts and haunts that flaunt the lost emotions of the patrons
save the sand in hand for people worthy of a night of sleep
plague the savage lands like locusts flying through an empty street
but nothing that i’m saying is unique, right?
and people only give a shit if i’m wiling to bleed
well, i am
and even more-so, i am willing to go hungry just to prove that i am angry to the people that still love me
i don’t understand their reasons, but i’m growing more accustomed to them being there, and feeling scared of days to come when all of them just up and die, or leave
i’m feeling more and more stable as i grow less and less concerned with focus on the fables
slaving over table settings
cannibals for dinner
if human souls are dollar signs, then god must be a capitalist
fashion all your fashion in the fashion of a fascist, then you wonder why these people seem to question every action
true, i’m laughing at your arrogance, but terrified of what comes next when fashionistas worship gucci print like some religious text
never let these rich fucks tell you what you need to feel beautiful, worthwhile, happy or complete
you will never reach the expectations of their scheme
if the scene says otherwise, than fuck the whole scene
remember:
they don’t give a fuck about you
nah…
never speak in absolutes, irony or riddles
never challenge men with horns to battles on a fiddle
settle all complaints with the ‘hope that helps’ facebook
take crooks that dress like crooks at their word, word
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11. |
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when the hot lead exits the back of the ribcage
the talk back stops as the bang of the shot rings out
stop this now
coffins soft when they tossed in the ground
caught in a frown
stuck in a town
list of reasons not to just turn around
but often it’s found that down on your luck’s just the eye of your very own storm, no sound
i think of the way that your limbs must have felt
losing all the feeling in your fingertips
i think of the way that your body would slouch, hunched over
i’m not sure how to be okay with this
the house is on fire and i’m growing tired of using my tears to fill buckets to fight it
the silence is violent
the tyrants are giants, and everything’s stacked against us- why deny it?
but you were outside
you saw the life leave the body of christ and float up toward the high leaves
i think of you nightly
a list of my fears
i’ll be older than my older sister in less than 3 years
CHORUS
i don’t want to fly, i don’t want to fly
i just want to float
i don’t want to die, i don’t want to die
i just want to go
i don’t want to fly, i just want to die
*SON THE RHEMIC*
fly on through
i don’t want to die
what’s the cost of this phone, what’s the cost of my life?
silent sigh- lullabies
with a breathe that’s so soft and quiet like mine
i crawled into the sky
let me lay all alone, come on home when it’s time
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12. |
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NKNGS:
Every single word is authentic
Every single verse is the birth of a newfound regret
If I wasn't such a glutton for this punishment, I'd quit
If I wasn't such a masochist, I wouldn't rip my skin apart
The sin of art is slowly it replaces need for God
I've worshipped ever changing poets and masters in their regard at doing nothing
Nothing more than finding ways to vent and circumvent the system set before them
Price upon their head
The irony of me inspiring anything is baffling
I'm raffling off pieces of my soul to javelina
I can't wait to sire Olin through his life as scaffolding for him to build upon until he can stand freely, facing demons I inevitably will pass on
So better I sing a bad song than raise a bad son
I guess that's just the level that I am on
Deny it all you want, I bring the pious to the table on a serving platter
Payback for the crisis of their faith
Take what you need, leave anything you don't
Don't look at the team when you'd hang them from a rope for profit
Walk a thin line between a coward and a leftist
Screaming at a border wall until it leaves you breathless
Resent black masks for smashing windows to a Starbucks
But let the city clean the signs up off the ground from your march? Damn...
But still here I stand in solidarity with every word you say, raised hand in a fist, pissed
Never made a wish list
Still, I got a couple of demands of the system, since they wanna force me into it
Sort these indigents
Society ain't shit without the art from the penniless
Nevertheless, questioned every step of the way, save the day his life ends and they all gather to pray
They never wanna see us as an equal, till the day we walk away from dictators and refuse to dance and sing for you...
Sad Tony:
Fuck knocking on they mansions and asking, it's time to punch in the door
Spill gasoline on a pile of their stuff on the floor
They keep the gold for themselves, steady snuffing the poor
They dangle over your head all that you want to be yours, and you jumping up for it... cool
When you get tired, I'll be saving a bar stool for your stupid ass
Raising the bar
Stool samples on they limousines
Pissing pure Captain Morgan on the limo seats
Kill a cop and then lay low
Tell 'em 'Hasta Luego'
If we can't build together, I'll turn your block to a Lego
It's time to turn the script and flip the tables
Try to walk a mile in my shoes, I'm chopping your legs off
Yeah, they call me counterproductive, but I can't count a productive person in congress or senate
Shut your mouth, or I'll shut it for you
We bouncing and busting doors in and tying up politicians and being loud as FUCK, it's like we trying to draw attention to y'all
Apples to oranges, peaches to pears
It's one thing to be working, another thing to compare my broke, beautiful freedom with your prideful mathematics
I'm not laughing to the bank, I'm laughing at it
I've had it with the bourgeoisie and the court jockeys
Let me light my Molotov with the purple that I'm smoking
Suit purple, I'm the Joker
Baby girl, I don't suppose you'd flip that spike collar inside out and let daddy choke you...
I'm gone.
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13. |
Little Shit (Prod. EQL)
03:19
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if i didn’t hold my head so high, i might not trip on little shit
kill me if i ever start to talk about deliverance
still my skin be crawling while i dig my nails into it
nothing soothes the itching, save the severance of bloody skin
what the fuck do you know about depression?
nothing
do i have to keep reminding myself it’s not a competition? yes…
really? who fucking died and made me king of shit hill?
i don’t have a lot to offer, so consider this my will
i leave my anger to the youth- may they burn you fucking useless wastes of air to find the truth
i leave my… i leave my never ending questioning to those who feels it’s beckoning and never seek a reckoning for blasphemy
i leave my apathy to every fucking pig that aims to profit from catastrophe
i leave my self defeat and all my anger to churches built to scare, and every bigot that creates and worships in them
i leave my drive and competition to the ruins of the system that creates them
i give up
i give my constant need to complain to anybody that can do it the same way
i dare you: fuck with me
cause ain’t one of you punks touching me
now i be running rampant, i don’t need a fucking company
huh… you think i’m all bark and no bite?
small talk and boxed wine?
small pox and sick swine, it’s more like…
CHORUS
but who asked you?
you worship rappers, flags, gods and statues
i’m at the edge of the world and if i step again, i’ll fall off
i’m not really sure if this shit is worth it
dissatisfied with anything that falls short of perfect, i cease to be persistent
a word from the distant relatives of people that appreciate wisdom, in spite of the dissent
the dissonance and discourse, they get what i meant
do you get what i’m saying?
do you think that i’m playing?
can’t you see it’s in my blood, how the fuck’s it not in my veins, being pumped into my brain
feeding frenzies that cause me to go insane
i’m biting and clawing at my face, but you don’t understand me?
well, who asked you anyway?
this whole song is now redundant
well maybe now i’ll sell a copy of my album to these dumb kids
fuck this, i never wanted it anyway
today’s the day i lay the need to change into it’s grave
so save the condescension
i’m sick of all the tension
the unanswered questions
the excuse of teaching lessons
the blessings from people that i’ve never even met, and all the hatred from my best friends
i’m a drop out, so test this…
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