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Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of LDC - Chills ft. DIYA (Lemtom Remix), Sweetness On Your Lips, The Adventures of Bernard Walters EP, Chrome, 𝗕𝗢𝗞𝗜 - 𝗣𝗲𝗿𝗱𝘂 𝗳𝘁. 𝗖𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗼 (𝗟𝗗𝗖 𝗥𝗲𝗺𝗶𝘅), 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤, Desires, Dive (Ready to Go) feat. Thonio, and 115 more.
1. |
At the end of the day
03:30
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I was a fiend before I wrote my first sixteen
Scratched on a tech, or even touched an MP
Before I could chop breaks or spin wax on plates
I put pen to page and wrote rhymes for days
Never sleep in this state of mind, tapes that stayed on rewind
Diggin' in the crates, life finds me entwined
With those who knew the time I speak truthfully
My top 3: Nas, Pharaohe Monch, and Kool G
In reverse order, I first sought it to see me through
A juggernaut in the game, Marvel and Capcom 2
Or Breeze Brewin I ease through it, fluid is my vision
Many have skills but knowledge, respect, and intuition
Is that shit you're missin', so you could call me Broke the gifted
Think you know how I'm hitting', but I'll chop a beat and flip it
Verse blue & cream like Tony Starks in Clarks
Game's cold as ice water, stay slaughtering sharks
Set it off Im raw like Kane, leave you in shards b
Bring the motherfuckin' Ruck she I rock like Sean P
None of these cats spittin' shit that could harm me
Word life you need to come clean kid, you probably
Lack the minerals and vitamins, don't test you luck, what?
You need to put the mic down, make beats, & shut the fuck up
Spittin' these madlibs when I got a jones for poems
I could throw a stone, these rap cats be like oh no
Follow the leader through my lyrics of fury
Grave diggin' up the future yo the RZA couldn't cure me
Like when the stakes is high, it's something; you feel
I'm just a beastly boy with a license to ill
Ninety percent of these dudes on the mic need to quit it
You can hear it when I spit it that I ain't about gimmicks
This Broke verse my pen mend together is surely
The most beuatifullest thing in this world like Keith Murray
Originate, cornbread and Taki do the math
Destroy all lines when I bomb like graff
Your whole style is trash, I perfect my craft
Rock a mic stand like a hells wind staff
Tame a sensei, leave 'em with L's
Freeze my soul to ice, sell and press to 12's
Askin' me what the secret is? Shit I can't believe it kid
You got the recipe and can't find the main ingredient
It's diamonds in the crates, beat mine displays
Buck shots at the crowd 'til they enter my stage
In showbiz, I'm buck wild with finesse on a page
9th Wonder I'm cool and slick in digable ways
Outsider in the game but I'm one with my pace
Turn a cipher to a fuckin' slaughterhouse like Ace
I'll be placed with the greats it's from here to fame
And keep shittin' these cats 'til they remember my name
It's Broke
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2. |
Get off my piano
02:19
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Laced with raw taste see the shit I wrote
Razor tongue and spit lines that'll spit your throat
Call me Broke the gate keeper the light sleeper the night dreamer
Blue notes that'll rival Aretha
Truth crush the soul of a preacher I'm off of the meter
Arrogant talk, Boondocks Saint your thoughts unbelieva
Bullshit quiet down with that broken language ether
smooth with a trigger that'll damage your features
Bass bump so tough shit'll shatter your speakers
Only built for blunt ciphers bumping' bangers and heaters
& punks jump up, get beat down for Timb's and Adidas
Sticky fingered onyx kid, for instrumentals I'm fiendin'
Amazed at how I get it in, feeding heads the medicine
Ink pen, I said it kid seroquel embedded in
Lines your remembering, can it be so simple when
The beat leave you shook and acapella got you trembling
4,3,2,1 times up on your swag
Spit black flag at adolescents to leave they're brains bad
While I maintain the rock, kick the real when I'm stylin'
Sicker than G.G Allin or a Paid In Full medallion
Mad dudes with masks, games full of fancy clowns
Any critics tryna sweat it can catch a beat down
Check how this heat sound, pattern repeat now you hostile
Wanna battle him? No quieres ningun un pedazo
To those who don't speak, you don't want a piece, boombox
MC's out shoes and socks, BK to Boondocks
8, 7, 6, 5 lines to go
For a 16 I spit clean through bars and notes
Wonder where I'm goin' truly hard to know
For every cut that I quote is a scar I wrote
Trapped in these lines and my physical shell
It was written I'm the future kid, it ain't hard to tell
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3. |
Heart battery charger
01:47
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Exhale thoughts like hash smoke through my snot box
And rock spots lifted, whatever I kick is top notch
Inkwell sprinkle on the strings, a distinct smell
Really how could he tell? Droppin' gems on the frail
Please pardon this black hearted rap artist
Get it in the hardest regardless of all the nonsense
& trash authors, bothered by a lack of content
Intent or offer defined by the context
Truly I'm haunted by things that I wanted
Half a wake and sleep, rhymes rise out of the darkness
Really, I call it essence the heart battery charger
Foggy like ganja, and every day it seems farther
Sounds harder to hear this, trip for hours
When it boils down the world and the choose is ours
Endless we got cowards, plottin' wars for power
While Broke walk the street worth a pocket full of flowers
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4. |
Take notes
02:20
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Go ahead rewind it, wait 'til the next line hits
The bars coincided in combat designed shift
Lotus crown burgundy absurdly worded the
Prose move disturbingly close to how he turn the beat
Seen who? Concrete dude, eyes is green jewels
Can't think, clock strikes at least 2
Most folks won't take it there, when I get in it
Choke hold kicks and snares at eighty five beats a minute
Max Roach of rap quotes framed in letterbox
Shoot the fiends the wide screen of my dreams and let 'em watch
Fess up to being self absorbed, a poor mans escape
-ism when I connect stiffened words straight to tape
Mead composition the rhythm, turn and swerve
Neither here or there, but each term reserved
Hand picked what I ran with, test of stamina
The sole Champion, the rest are no Alexander
Something to ease the tension, or that's the word I went with
For certain scenes are set in, scales of grey for entrance
A season in hell, a labor of love and ink pen
Primary colors filling flavors I could think in
Hit the brink, pause, then print tones to the margin
If I resent the present then tomorrows not a prospect
i'm speaking honest, in the bars bury jewels
strike hard without regard for queensberry rules
Elements placed punching, hooks are crushing
What I frames fucking filthy, dialogues disgusting
Hats keep the beat from busting, mastered the craft
Word to RZA on the drums and Premier on the stabs
Need to call up Kesh & start another session
Peace to Repeat for the ill shit I'm blessed with
To cats who can't' spit fuck it, peep a lesson
Spit a hot 16, EQ, mix, Compression
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5. |
King of the concrete
02:05
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Verse 1
Rockin' Repeat Pattern, leave MC's meat splattered
From the bomb we planted, leave 'em in bits like Sega Saturn
Time out the window, wonder where it went though
Like lost hours on Nintendo, yo it's simple
Shaolin style throw darts to your temple
Caught dudes off balance, yeah you buggin' of the tempo
Off the strength of one rhyme, fell in love with a nympho
Hit you in the heart regardless of who it's meant for
Requiem for loss opposite of Marciano
Taste a lost break spread across a raw piano
Sounding all dismantled but poems set pace
Gem words, wise man, never trust a smiling face
Like I lost the race before the judge could set his watch
Before the photo finish or I could get the crowd to rock
When you down and out, and ain't nobody helpin' you
It's a tough break kid, but everybody's dealt a few
Verse 2
Let's play a game of reversed roles, minus commercials
All this pain still stuck to your heart, what's it worth though?
Weigh you down heavy when it's time to move on, wait
For every bitter song I wrote, this take the cake
It's like truly a trip though, Broke but I'm spittin' it
Past the next flannel or 5 panel fitted kid
No pity to who I cross, coin toss yo who want it?
Polish a beat to bass and drop a jewel on it
Not the violent type but never caught an L once
I fuck around and knock the next punk out his Nike dunks
Batter hit the mound, never make it past strike one
No D for three, asking what's your life like son?
Not too unlike life for me to question my own
King of the concrete, pull up a seat on my throne
Take a moment for film, captured with a snap
Flash, cut, print, and it's a wrap
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6. |
Never look back
03:20
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Verse 1
Run the rock with no clock, takin' buzzer shots
Caught 'em on the spot, bomb blocks with the unorthodox
Switch after 16 like he a different person
But RP said never hit 'em with less than two verses
My life at 33 and a 1/3, can'r relax for shit
When he feel in' trapped in it, his medicine is practicing
The method he be rappin' in resembles that of Kool Moe
Met Keith and Ghostface in the era of steel toes
On heels of a real pro, behind the wheels turning
Raw, think he an addict how gee's got the bass burning
Do the knowledge, learn 'em, old fashioned hand crafted it
They Say the way he's rappin' bent is something like immaculate
Shoe boxes of beats, peace to ETC
Run with Onset and T, and split my bread in three's
Damn if they ain't signing me, the rest is old news
Give him a Tascam to rip, when he touch it it's Pro Tools
The kid is type foolish, put his neck before his pride
& when he said he had nothing to hide, he lied
Verse 2
Got 'em like he born to lose, but that's what the horrors do
Viewed and spoke to few, that'll bruise your aura blue
Wish I had this rap shit in sides it's true
But this light choose to move in waves and moods
That's why I never held my tongue when life got me shook man
I grabbed a pen and pad, hit the crates, and never looked back
Ask indirect and they think that he's lost
When anther mans mess is my own tour de force
Different matter of course when Im scattering thoughts
Old habits are gathered, what I'm traveling towards
There's 2 sides two the sword that's how the story gets intricate
Could only mean it's war and the score is type infinite
For every rhyme written in, spittin' ever since a kid
Love to get into shit, but the last page I'm missing it
(Repeat)
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7. |
Don't sleep
03:27
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Verse 1
Can't catch his focus, too ill to explain
Broke move on a track like Hakeem in the lane
Deep seeded and strange, one would say disarray
How he raise hi shoulders and just be on his way
Nothing doing but rocking 'til slugs into 'em
Metal or the grave, until then he'll one this music
Higher praise, a toast to this ether style of mine
Oddly gaze, My Bloody valentine on Ballantine
Quarts like Walkmans, murk a track ruthless
How he killed hours tying loose ends, nuisance
Attention to the scene, take aseat or dream tight
Buggin' type how he black out and bring light
Reel to reel, wheels of steel, booths in awe
Cats won't match his stats at all, DAT to DAW
Drop the throne on clones, the prince and the pharaoh
The man behind the beats dipped in Wallabee apparel
Hook
Take looseleaf sheets, let the blanks fill I came to
Move you to a different place and my pain still
Make my soul rain, kill tracks or crews
All these wack motherfuckers is sub-tractable
No weight or pull, it ain't debatable, I hold that
You fold back, leave a vapor trail after I smoke cats
Knock 'em out the box, golden glove earned his mitts
Top 5 journalist, yearn to spit determined with
Words learned to kick, Sonny Cheeba off the reefer
To anyone who step in my chamber, prepare to meet the
True Master, hazardous, fuck all that talking' fam
Don't mention It, I'm meant to rip from here to Japan
Hope you're keeping the score, Shayfiq to Main Source
Not the word to play, so over break beats I claim war
Maintain my mind frame, pen murder cassette
Kids watch your step, don't sleep or get swept
Verse 2
Scribble words sloppy like backwards from start
All this searching for naught got my kicks fallin' apart
Dismantle my ways, break the old routine
Try to get my handle up with the heads like Skeme
Trains and paint, skate throughout day to day
Pray for something to claim, scratch my name in the pane
Of the few whose the same, see him in the freezing rain
Grape blunt in his face, dreaming how to seize his fate
For tomorrows he could save, ain't nothing he could say
Put on hold or ice, isn't something we could gauge
With respect to acclaim, never sought to gain an ounce
He just came to fuck up the game and bounce
Tag 'em out, and watch the rest keep the bench warm
& run the back court with my click that's like ten strong
The original who rock so far with a swing
Son he's all live, true, an all out king
Hook repeat
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Cascade Records Paris, France
Cascade Records is an independent record label based in Paris, created in 2009 with a sonic focus light on “hiphop, electronic & beat” to promote the emerging Beat Scene Music. Different phrases can be used to describe the sound of Cascade : House, RnB, Chillout, LoFi … but the “Emotion, Sensation & Beats” are three words that give the pulse of Cascade all days! ... more
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