High Almighty

by Crocker & Walter Kronkite

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about

Collaborative project with Crocker & Walter Kronkite.

credits

released 20 April 2014
Executive Producers:
Christopher Diamond
Terry Crocker, Jr
& Jerry Mathis

Art Direction:
Daniel Hagerman for DHAGS Design

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Lovelorn Records Spartanburg, South Carolina

LVLRN Records is an independent music label based in upstate South Carolina that empowers talented, undiscovered artists to grow as both performers and as human beings. Founded in October 2010, we focus on quality and talent rather than hype, and we bring our D.I.Y. artistically focused ethos to every album we release. ... more

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Track Name: High Almighty feat. Hillary Keane
(Crocker)
/The…light and the dark, the life and the death/ The breath, time acquiesce I keep close to my chest/ Their rhymes, they supine, see it's posture regress/ In my room, turn a tomb, paint collages of Set/ gods, demigods, pit Mazda with Mithra/ Born from the Petra, Christ Peter's conscriptor/ Petra meaning "rock"/ Peter: rock of the church/So what's a monument's worth?/ G-d our father, my soul it falters/ Weary, wary, it, teeter-totters/ They bleed the waters, they beat our daughters/ They tease us offers, but mean us martyrs/ Beware the sheep that speaks/ The wolf is a given/ That sheep will draw you in; tear you to ribbons/ Bear, no man to go and deem you forgiven/ That's between you, and the light you envision/

(Hook)
/High Almighty, I’m out here dying/ I was out here living, loving, lying/ These old sung tears, the dirt is drying/ But I wonder, will my soul be flying/ High Almighty, will you take me/ The world has now broke me, killed me, raped me/ Never will I be the same the way that they shook me, hate me/ High Almighty, why you make me?/ High Almighty, I’m out here dying/ I was out here living, loving, lying/ These old sung tears, the dirt is drying/ But I wonder, will my soul be flying/ High Almighty, will you take me/ The world has now broke me, killed me, raped me/ Never will I be the same the way that they shook, hate me/ Please shine a light ‘fore the night forsakes me/

(Kronkite)
/After life miscued, I had many different views/ The one that you choose for you has everything to do/ With you and how you live your life at the end of the day/ Not much more to say on the subject of the grave/ But if by any mistake, if you should ever wake up/One day, and think up one way to make up/The decision to end it, and no I’m not being specific/ Just know you shouldn’t take granted of living’s benefit in it/ The sentence that I uttered, with no lisps or a stutter/Muffled through the half ways, looking at my brother/ Some things in this world cause you to grow cold and old/Other things cause you to die young and live bold/ Is it about picking up and living life to the fullest/ By the time he mashes stop, I will probably be losing/ It’s about taking chances and living with no regrets/ I put all my chips in as the bullet hits the deck/
Track Name: The Rot
(Crocker)
/I wanna buy, buy, buy/ Get high, high, high/ Stare at YouTube videos as life passes by by by/ That syringe, make me cringe that they inject/ My thoughts abscess, full neuron death/ Oh praise the PDA and all the pretty ofays/ I was born Krush Grooved, suicided Soul Plane/ I'd slit my own throat if English custom died with me/ Death & Disease to Eminem & Old Man Fifty/ Nihilism, Nihilism, Fucking Nihilism/ They tried to kill G-d if the midst of nihilism/ Nuclear holocaust, they'd freeze ignorance cryogenic/ Hope's on life support, in a very dire condition/ Don't let me go, I fear losing grip/ Steven Hoff watches me on some intrusive shit/ I mean the agency either does it on the elusive tip/ Or that fact may be that I'm just losing it/

(Hook)

/Are you programmed? Can you feel it yet?/
/Pipe dreamt, mental disconnect/

(Kronkite)
/Riding from the law, damn this world is small/ Can’t walk before you crawl, pull out the 40 when it’s all boring/Fighting off 9’11s, I right before the severance, mass murder peasants/ All before the 7th…/I shoot at you losers and claim you all intruders/ Armed and dangerous, smoking angel dust/ Claimed “space-iests” die from cancerous cells/
Became saved again, simple trend simpleton/ watching a re-run of them Simpsons’ kids / Lower rate of survival for those who dose on antihistamines/ Shit I mean, hit the green, and the bowl, and the screen/ Hit the mean, go berserk, smack the sheriff, get ya’s worth/ 1960’s ambition, I blame it on the perp./ Now the officer offered ya relocation/ Just tell him where the dirt weed is so he can lace it/ I didn’t go looking for trouble, but I’m caught up in a mess and/ Minus the light skin complexion, I’m getting fucked like rock hard erection/ Ingesting ingestion, flexing the weapons, send them to Iraq for detailed questions/ The lesson, we done teaching, then it starts the testing/ Label ‘em X factors, and then we bomb all the terrorists/ And fire the fucking waiter for fucking up my asparagus/ Arrogance led me to the middle of the war zone/ I see us all gone, product of criminal minds/ Just nuke the town, and try to get them all before dinner at nine/
Track Name: Optical Obstrusion
(Crocker)
/I write for other rappers, I have no fan base/ Spitting over cuts Mandrill to Mandrake/ As if I was willed by Jehovah's mandate/ Beautiful like a rival soldier's handshake/ How do dreams rise?/ Tryna drop jewels like slinging bean pies/ Believing it's a lie when they say the cream rise/ Then cast it to the side when I see my niece eyes/ Am I light? I don't see none/ If it's there, is it leaving/ Can we talk, give thought to reason/ Rise of Crocker, fall of Stephen/ The masks we wear, then gasp for air/ The lack of care, attachment's there/ Collapsing stairs, tryna grasp the rail/ Helluva ride, but taxing fare/ Peace to my friend who fears rejection/ Over unwillingness of a peer's acceptance/ Beauty's quite more than mere complexion/ And you deserve more than our dear depression/ Love...

(Hook)
/G-d is one, quit thinking Bibles/
/It's all within, quit breeding idols/
/Holy men no need for titles/
/Fiending speed, just let it idle/
/Just let it idle/
/Just let it idle/
/Just let it idle/
/Heaven gleams within your iris/

(Kronkite)
/Perish of the chosen, flow cold on the hopeless/ Strong currents keep it open, nasal passages steady smoking/ I’m coming through the esophagus; keep in mind that they are watching us/ The public tries to mock us, caught with the product by the coppers/ We sell our lies for the income that we work to live through/ The rhetoric that she conveys shows where she’s been to/ Roll up some medicine, as I’m burning on the back of books/ Intrigued by the fear, I stayed to see how the crack was cooked/ G.E.D. on my wall signifies I’ve surpassed the masses/ Taking pharmaceutical meth to stay up for all my classes/ My fingers start to tremble, bump along with the treble/ Praying for an angel, and keep meeting all these devils/ Want the best out of life; I’m afraid I’ll never settle down/ With the right one, so for my music, it’s now or never/ A lot of feelings be feeling, I’m looking for one better/ But it may be lost for a while, so for now I live in terror/ Of love…/
Track Name: Adult Swim feat. Caleb
(Kronkite)
/Walk in to the toy store, Dad says/ “What you want toys for? Looking like a toy whore.”/But never kicking and screaming, on the Maury show/ Ah, more we go, just to show, just to browse/ Just to graze like we cows/ Looking for feed indeed to get back to the house/Looking like we were ram shacked by a rat or a mouse/ Attack on the spouse, home fights without winning/ Cut the scene without the drama, but no ending/ I witness intolerance following these protagonists/ Yell what I love like a devil’s advocate/ So I quick joking till the moment is broken/ And then I say a smart line to the person who broke it/ Jump on stage, then choke on the moment/ And then I blame it on my friends, say they the ones who sold it/ I just wanted normal, occasionally formal/ Father of the year, who ain’t hormonal/ Maybe a mother, who ain’t choking on crack/ Maybe a new brother who ain’t witness all that/ Nah, my bad, I take that back/ I’m only 13, I’d much rather them hurt me/

(Crocker)
/As a child I was maladjusted/ Little bit of mouth, man I had some gumption/ Thinking all that I needed was a dad to function/ Mad impulsiveness, might spaz at functions/ Poppa was a rolling stone, my uncle, he was rolling stones/ Up till bed, I'd hold the phone, do my best to hold my own/ My step-mother would beef with me, 10 years old, she would beef with me/ My mother was the only thing she would see in me/ Thought Mom was seeing Dad again, at Christmas to get back at him/ Exchanged my presents at the store, proceeded then to laugh at him/ Picked me up alone one time, and it became an issue/ Dad tells me to grab my bag, my toothbrush, and my tissue/ This bitch starts to whiling out, proceeds to pull a pistol/ Waved in my father's face, screaming, "i'm gon' kill you”/
Track Name: Cecidit Corona
(Crocker)
/The lost boys of revolution, they don’t know what to do with/ Take up knowledge like arms, for a futility movement/ Enoch before the flood etching Boaz and Jachin/ Destroy, rebuild if you’re knowing what yah…mean…/ Out of the darkness, profit margins & targets/ While I feel disparate and Marxist/ On St. Andrew’s cross a carpenter’s son spits/And when four measures finish, he’ll disappear in the fog mist/ Cry Cherokee tears on my Anglo facial/ Suicidal thoughts but the irony’s tasteful/ One time for Marc Garvey, they don’t get me either/ One time for Pop Glenn, hope we meet in the ether/ And tell Israel bring the Maccabees back/ Cause the temple’s gonna fall and my sanity cracks/ My road to Damascus leads to Gitmo Bay/ Lil water-boarding then to the Gitmo clay/

(Kronkite)
/They cure diseases over in Europe in a matter of minutes/ Fashionable late to try and convey the transition/ More delays now facing modern science/ Ancient Mayans in their tombs, rolling over crying/ Preservation of the people means down with the evil/ Raised up on the steeple, later injecting the needle/ Our feeble minds we read but never will it make us equal/ Education don’t pay enough for me to want to teach you/ I try to spread the word, but the printer’s out of ink/ Fill the cartridge; print the copies, now you tell me what you think/ You think it’s a little lame, Plain Jane with no color/ Pictures that I issue fade out like no other/ Poison my neighbor for the greater good of the hood/ Put a bullet through the head of those that never would/ Top off the radicals like those before me should/ Put a bullet through the head of those that probably could/ But didn’t, so I’m in it to fix the pipes like a porno plumber/ I want a shot at the throne, they told me take a number/ But I ain’t waiting for Satan to try and draw me under/ I’ve been looking for lightening because I heard the thunder/ Loaded on depressants, worried about the non-believers/ Try and tease us and I swear I’ll wreck your daughter’s fetus/ You ”Friday the 13th“ heart eaters/ And no I’m not denominated to a denomination/ Conviction is a sentence to try and prove relation/ Religion from another religion, so just stop hating/ Paving the road for those who want to awaken from the sleep to there feet/ I see the wolves, you all sheep, I haven’t ate all week and I’m weak/ But still won’t be claimed by defeat/
Track Name: Revelation 6:8 feat. D.C. & Nix Da Kid
/I’ve been chilling for a second they had me on hold just for winter/ cause I'm cold you'll get froze just for thinking that you're winners/ I'm unlawful if you don't believe me call the law/ I'll need a holster for these (D's) sort of like a bra/ you can catch salmonella through the ear with a hint of blood on your tongue as soon as you hear I am raw/ catch a breeze it'll be the degrees of Sub-Zero with Scorpion's touch as soon as you get over here you freeze/ I'm a bastards son which is kind of ironic cause I'm fond of my father but I'm a bastard son/ got a problem with my thought process talk to God 'bout it/ if you don't think my flow's God-like I bet God doubt it/ personally I feel y'all suck ain't no punch line behind that y'all suck/ who agrees cause if you are as dope as me I'd attach cinder-blocks to my feet/ and hope to feel the bottom of the sea/ with a tone that can scare the Grinch out of his hair/ they hear it and they all say "WHOO!" like Ric Flair/ I rip dudes like paper and spit like tobacco when it's packed behind your lips and it's just as sick/ a nice dude but can be just as rude/ and it's permanent to your mind these words get tattooed/ lyrically balanced mentally focused on physically challenging y'all/ no bladder control with y'all on my penis I'm pissing you off/

(Hook)
/Beholding a pale horse/
/Death was his name of course/
/a hellish embodiment/
/him given power of the fourth/
/Earthly constellation having part in human administration/
/There is no debation’ this is 6 8’s and Revelation/

(Kronkite)
/Evolution…/
/ Scrape with a chore boy, like I’ve been on crack/ Smack you like Uncle Sam and say, “Give me that back!”/ Having everybody saying I don’t envy that cat/ Snap him like a Kit-Kat till he sound like a snare on a rap/ Pulling hair out my crack from a bitch I just knocked/ As D falls out my crack, right in front of the cops/ I’m fighting off Vicodin, writing with the lightening/ Your lyrics need tightening, his begging for the sirens then/ Mightier than the sword, standing on the shore/ I’m rich with the intellect, but I act like Pauly Shore/ Torn from the insides, Lovelorn with the loot/ I treat it like a movie; I aim at you and shoot/ Bitches walking up looking like damn he cute/ I’m a leader in the Navy, and you just a recruit/ Brighter than a 100 watt, even when I’m on the pot/ Cooking meth for the Feds, rocking Rot’s in the lot/ Rolling weeds up in the Tops, throwing out before the cops/ Rolling blocks try and stop but never do we get locked/Pops finally fucking smoked, went to sleep right after/ I seem to fall asleep that night to faint snickers and laughter/ A dope kick and a snare, I blind them with a flare/ Make ‘em D.A.R.E. like no drugs; better eat your fucking pears/ Better sit down in them chairs; let your cheeks shed tears/ Tears your fucking face off like a fucking bear/ Oh dear…/

(Crocker)
/Christ was a Zionist, I'm Daniel in the lion's den/ With Nat Turner's sickle, beheading the proprietor/ From the seed of Scythians, rap is my entitlement/ Flyting like it's Scotland, English vs. Irishmen/ Kilt like Piper, ill like Stryper/ Shit feel like diapers, kill your cypher/ Rap's now TV, I call it Idol Survivor/ Never wan go, got to vote em off the island/ Kronkite, Crocker, bomb right proper/ Write sonata’s, tight cantatas/ I’m older than I look, Dewayne Carter/ And spit till I’m sixty, Dewayne’s father/ Yuga bitch, ollie ollie oxen/ Free, Watch your Polly swallow Crocker/The venom in my veins, well I tap in that/ Then bang bang you're broad, like I'm Cactus Jack/ You soft, banana peels & daffodils/ And I'll smile to see you a maggot's meal/ Defecate depictions, decimate the diction/ The damndest deliverer of Mason and Dixon/ Demonstrating dominance, prophesying providence/ Demonic or a Darwinist, precocious after prominence/ Shit portraits of the south with the intellect of Twain/ More Jew than Jesuit, and affected in the brain/
Track Name: I.D. (Idol Displacement)
(Hook)
/They take the beauty and kill it/ Till it’s a movie that’s scripted/ A numbing dumbed down feeble soothing depiction/ A revolutionary turned a shirt and a sticker/ A Hot Topic hoodie with the pockets and zipper/

(Crocker)
/Hov turned Guevara's face to an iconic shirt/ The capitalist that he is, boy, that's ironic work/ Please when I die, put my guise on a shirt/ And make it misrepresent and make light of my work/Pac's life they summed up to middle fingers and thugs/ The fact he was a Panther, they belittled and scrubbed/ The origin of Thuggies', that they whittled to nubs/ And left a pissed black male that stomped a Crip with some Bloods/ Peep how they did Bob and his belief in the Ja/ Marley "Ra-sta-far-I", hence weed in his song/ Sang he wanted Brits to go and leave from his home/ Now he's just a poster, with a leaf and a bong/ Kurt's message molested, he's just a emblem of angst/ Here we are, entertain us, turned literal bank/ A man against brands, suffers criminal rape/ His music's for sad teens, now the general take/ Shit, even Jesus Christ is a brand you can bank on/ Brother I would I know, I got one of his tank's on/ Though it's sacrilegious, if you believe and your saved son/ Because you know, Jesus was G-d as man, and it violates one of ten commandments you pray from/

(Kronkite)
/The plight of humanity seems to always damage/ Handles me to a panic, scrambling like I’m this nasty/ Well, yes, of course, I’m white trashy/ But not even I take it to the resort that you take it to/ They’ll probably take my retort and try and make it cool/ XXL, I got to get them magnums out the closet/ For that one name drop, my wallets brain just lost/ In my first video, I sport a jersey from Chris Wallace/ Then his sales go up, and he sees nothing but profit/ The Illuminati seems real/ How the fuck you suppose to overcome a fucking group that’s older than George Washington/ How do you get to decide what to call sacred, not another soul?/ You call that girl a hoe cause she’s dressed in them clothes/ Not knowing she’s got no where to live, and nobody knows/That guy that keeps shaking like he’s shoving shit up his nose/ Really has no health care, unless you have a H.M.O./ The doctors say no, then throws him out in the cold/Bundle up with a North Carolina Tar Heels jersey/ Died on the street with a sign that said, “They never even heard of me.”/ But you walk in them stores, swing open them doors/ And buy a bunch of goodies galore, oh lord/
Track Name: Crushed Velvet Bibles
(Kronkite)
/I played the room out when they found out about/ scientific identities, I broke down all they enemies/ They sending me images, that leads me to imagining/ The only way out this life is attempted drug trafficking/ Mapping out the plans with my hombre, José/ He says, “No way!” Cliché, I paid for the whole day/ Cut the coke with coke as I hear the sounds in the hallway/ Smack him in the back of the head, “You’ve been doing that all day.”/ All play’s equals no finish; I say so in this sentence/ I see you thinking of quitting, so why you up in my business/ You want to get paid like you studied Therapy/ Coal in the place of a soul, she slowly found out there, in me/ She kept pushing my buttons, at times, daring me/ Quit what you’re doing before you get ruined/
When all you have in life, is it really worth losing/ I told her you got to keep pushing till life starts moving/

(Hook)
/Time keeps moving, never stopping, never stopping/
/Judges and Juries could never stop it, could never stop it/
/I promise, never looking through the glass, through the glass/
/To the past, for the past been gone, it’s just another topic/

(Crocker)
/I found G-d, or it found me/ Not the same person that had kept sounding/ Off like I needed what had been grounding/ Everybody else, man, that confounding/ Microwave oven flow, I exude toxins/ Varsity blues, imbue John Moxon/ Perennial wing-man, eschew John Stockton/ Said the war's over, but I ain't stop marchin'/ Sound the bugle, Gabe, the fight don't take off/ Dig up Brother Malcolm, let him take charge/ The hell I'ma do with this face I face off/ Where' s G-d kingdom, it seems like they made off/ Apathetic fucks, hope the lot of you suffer/ Like I care for a filter or the block of a buffer/ Won’t do a damn thing, an innocuous wonder/ Smoked out or pilled up, prone populous slumber/
Track Name: Democracy (In His Image) feat. Hillary Keane
(Crocker)
/So many years tryna persevere/ Nose to the stone whip work from fear/ Dealin’ with the thought that the curtain near/ If it don’t break soon I’ll be hurtin’ here/ Meetin' after meetin', same response/ Songs kinda ehh, but they never pop/ Next one flop, I’ll be so distraught/ Hand on the line, it was all for naught/ A&R nod said it kinda knock/ Ask of my plans, ask where it stops/ Say, shit, when I’m done with the album charts/ Say ten number 1’s and then I’ll drop/ Smiles and he says, let’s get the contract/ Feel my heart skip, start dialing contacts/ Hit my mans up, said now it’s on Jack/ From here on out it’s all Leers and bra straps/ Say congratulations, that’s what you get after all the hatin'/ Tell them boys they ain’t sayin’ Nathan/ Your reward for saving faith and/ When you ignored and soldiered on/ ‘For the shit payoffs, now the boulder gone/ When you ain’t have a dime to go perform/ Put your face down, kept rollin’ on/ Right about then, I felt my soul had warmed/ I said I’ll hit you back with this all is done/ Reached back, called my moms/ It’s been a long time since I been at home/ She been kinda ill, I been thinking long/ I know G-d with her, and see she’s strong/ Dial up the house, brother breathing hard/ Said the cardiac took her won’t believe she’s… gone.

(Kronkite)
/… so I say to myself, "Self, do I feel lucky?"/ Am I Chuck Norris fighting off the evil that force me?/ Can’t get my bread, oh yeah, I like it crusty/ It’s a reassuring feeling when I help to bring up the young seeds/ Swimming waters with sharks is tough, see/ Hand over them handouts, take them, we plan now/ Live month to month, populate, then act like runts/ But prove where he is wrong, and watch them mock the sin/ Democrats, we lock them in, Republicans, we lock them in/ But the majority would rather worry about the new popping trend/ First to know will probably tweet this when we all meet are end/ Is there any way to stop them, can anybody stop them/ I hear the people yelling, but can’t feel the boat rocking/ /They said Bush: We can’t stop him/
/ Obama: We won’t stop him/ Democracy is failing...and all I can do is watch them/

(Hillary Keane)
/Now, where do I stand?/ Sifting reluctantly through back up plans/ American Idol’s idle hands/ Forced to step back and face the bland/ So close, I could taste it/ Jumped the gun and said I made it/ No other dreams worth embracing/ What is life without creating?/
Track Name: The Jesuits feat. Katalyst & Rick Somethin'
(Katalyst)
/You were born a god, and the world to you indebted/ Pathetic, how you don’t give yourself the credit/ Life’s a bitch, break your heart if you let/ Best never to sweat it, that “Unit Life” philosophy/ And honestly, fuck you if you don’t ride with me/ I probably box a bullet for anyone who’d die with me/ N****** in my city, mad, arms too short to box with me, I’m God high/ Hog-tie your ass, quick, fast, and in a hurry/ When the shit comes to the light, notice the snakes and roaches scurry/ Keep your grass cut and your house clean/ Make your bitch toot that ass up, if that mouth mean/ Jesus in my features with a gold mouth gleam/ I’m a rich hoes want, but I’m a broke hoes dream/ N****** mad at me cause your boy done got it popping/ Stop jocking, all foul, out of pocket, loose hoes need goddess/ Lost souls need knowledge, from sincere points of view/ Walk in a real N****** shoe, what would Trap Jesus do/

(Kronkite)
/I have giving up, I don’t want it no more/ My friends don’t have faith, who can I trust anymore?/ Body feels weak, my mind feels sore/ Agony on top of agony, now tell me who you adore/ You see the pretty lights, and not the late nights/ The spats with the frats, the stray cats and the mice/ And the rats that be feeding off your crumbs at your feet/ Waiting for you to get comfortable so they can give you a disease/ The glitz and the glamor, I’m not too familiar with/ But to be honest, neither is the common kid/ I meet a hundred people, 99 turn out to be rappers/ I have to bundle them together just to fit them into chapters/ The question they keep asking is if I’d make it without a faction/
But all of that is irrelevant, they just talking, no action/ so just leave me in peace left to chase my own dragons/ and demons, charging castles everlasting with my passion/

(Crocker)
/Your rap's my welcome mat, everybody welcome back/ be my best year or my last, wanna tell? Then tell 'em that/ in the last year, I've questioned living because different misgivings/ Deciphered scripture, siphoned liquor/ Painted enlightened pictures/ Barack reelected, shit was mad depressing/ they say "You wanted Romney?" I shake my head, driven mad with stressing/ Fuck both those pleated khaki crackers/ Take my freedom and my taxes/ Fools lost, need an atlas/ Lost friends over Jesus, with everything I's reading/ Believing we could reason, they regressed, and said I's evil/ The Roman's lied, these cracker's lie, try they best to pacify/ The Roman's lied, these cracker's lie, try they best to pacify/ My knowledge like skin cancer that metastasize/ It spread, consumed, it's all I fantasize/ Fiscal cliff? that's ridiculous shit/ Next up Iran, some killing and shit/ Globalize, globalize, Hitler's army mobilized/ Hold your breath, say a prayer, and close your eyes/

(Rick Somethin')
/Imagine compassion, living so lavish, oh, you ‘bout that life?/ Now get you a car, roll a cigar, and you hit that twice/ Imagine a winner, a saint from a sinner/ Born a forgiver, around Master Splinter’s/ Out the dungeon we entered, this world be killing/ This world that we in a corruption and splinter/ Your Lord a forgiver, he’ll tell you how to live your life/ You learn if it scratches, it bites/ You learn that black ain’t white/ You learn what drugs you like/ Esco, it’s still one mic/Gold? Done, done that twice/ These hoes, they know what they like/ And since they rolling with Samson, no need for asking/ Young, rapping bastard, take you some classes/ Knowledge is magic, life in these books of potpourri/ It’s never what teachers told to me/ Now question what you told to me/ You hold your heart and then console me/These hard ships done froze me/ So I fill the Dutch with the O.G./ My competence points to the oldies/ Them tracks that compose me/ Time before when I opposed the police/ And them double cups of codeine/ Now I look in your eyes, and I peep that you ain’t know me/ This my life, a little my story, right before I fucking O.D./ Society won’t control me, I hang in the jungle, bitch, I’m Mowgli/
Track Name: Baptism By Fire feat. The Apollo Theory & Genius
(The Apollo Theory)
/They got me stuck on the front lines/ Between enemies and gunfire/ My life flash before my eyes, I (re)member one time/ I was chillin' at the house playing X-Box/ 360/ Metal Gear/ Black Ops/ Hold a second...let me think/ The characters that I create, now I portray/ Damn life sucks/ All I wanna do is fight for my country/ Have no idea I had to die for the money/ Tried to feed my family so we can live comfy/ Seems like something precious is taken from me/ And I don't know what to do, tears roll down my face/ How can I stay calm when death is underway?/ The only trick card I can pull is just "faith"/ Now the boy's ready for war...press play/

(Genius)
/Addicted to women and mixing liquor with mixers/ Living wicked, wanting death, but never get me a ticket/ Missing signs of an ending, different times I was spending/All the dimes for a snippet of her thighs while extended/ Got my mind on my business but I dabble in the casual/ Extracted and it has a toll on actions, I adapted those/ Hazards like magic shows, have me on a path or road/ But caught up in a traffic hold, my focus on Adderall/ Waitin’ for a ladder throne, Madder than a battered home/ Gotta make it on my own, a throne lonely for a lone ranger/ How mystical is the danger? Strangers/ Try to lock me down in the chambers/ Aim for the sky, in this pie called life/ All I want is a slice, but I’m fried like rice/ And I paid my price, I’m just tryna do right/ Lord, please help me, destiny is my right/ Right?

(Kronkite)
/We’re living in a mess, stressed out about currency/ Unless you make it to the top, then it’s whose gonna murder me/ Every time I tell a lie, I get burned with the third degree/ So I keep my mouth shut, forget everything you’ve heard from me/ Damn, times done got hard/ So I borrow my buddy’s Glock and put it in my sock draw/ I take it to the show to show the crew I act hard/ Guy picks a fight, grabs a knife, so I dis-charge/ Now it’s sleeping on couches, see police, and I’m bouncing/ Never trusting no one, slinging whatever by the ounces/ My crew thinks I’m crazy, and I know I’m out my mind/ Just give me my medication and I promise I’ll be fine/ I can get whatever you need, but got to be home by nine/ If you can’t tell me now, then that’s a pretty good sign/ That this isn’t gonna work, try to find some other glass/ Blade in the rib cage as he laid me under trash, over some cash/

(Crocker)
/Zoroaster spoke of the Promised One/ Paul spoke of the Christ/ Christ means anointed one/ Let's bring it into light/ Rome at that time practiced Mithraic mysteries/ Mithra, sun demi-god of Zoroaster's litany/ Paul dates before the Gospels.....Zoroastrianism four thousand B.C./ Christianity first a mystery religion/ Earn degrees for your knowledge, under secret conditions/ Why you think the Catholic church didn't hand out bibles/ Cause the average Roman would think the stories recycled/ Paul was first Saul, a Jewish priest/ It was a time of war, and he embraced truancy/ So there he was, a raised Jew, seeing Zarathustra teachings/ There, now it's framed, so what are you seeing?/