"SHORT" Lyrics by Deacon Burns Kounterclockwise! Pump your brakes, check your ticket! Yeah! My soul is an angel and in my heart lies the devil in a life of grins and fables, darkness and shadows. World of computers and infomercials, Daytime talk-shows, sluts and music videos. I’m a bottle of soda constantly being shaken in a room with no bottle openers. So what’s your pleasure? You got your whole life behind you, I’m a fuel injected suicide machine. Don’t pull my lever unless you want to feel the pressure My mind is coming undone at the seams Drink. Fight. Fuck. Lost. Trapped. Stuck. Mouth taped shut, you can’t hear my screams. I live it. It’s not a gimmick. Christ and Judas all in one spirit. True alcoholic, pour me my breakfast. Haunted by electronics, my mind is robotic. Easily I approach the microphone cause I ain’t no joke. Tell your bitch to get off of my tip. I got no time to give her this dick. Yeah! Easily I approach the microphone cause I ain’t no joke Tell your bitch to get off of my tip I got no time to give her this dick! For sure ya’ll niggas be short! For sure ya’ll niggas be short! For sure ya’ll niggas be short! For sure ya’ll niggas be short! It’s cut throat. This is daylight savings time Set your clocks back kounterclockwise This is my demise The vanishing animal trapped in a world with deaf children. I can’t do sign language cause my hands are constantly swollen from punching and scratching just to relieve frustration. Cursed with knowledge, I wish I was stupid like these niggas and bitches all blind with ignorance. But yet I’m the one held hostage cause I care too much and my love is not accepted. So ignore it or take it. I’ll still write it and say it and mean it and feel it beyond the infinite definition of any dictionary description. So even if you claim to comprehend, I’m beyond your comprehension So stop fronting like you’ve done figured out my functions or something dumb nigga. What you thinking? Easily I approach the microphone cause I ain’t no joke Tell your bitch to get off of my tip I got no time to give her this dick. Yeah! Easily I approach the microphone cause I ain’t no joke Tell your bitch to get off of my tip I got no time to give her this dick! For sure ya’ll niggas be short! For sure ya’ll niggas be short! For sure ya’ll niggas be short! For sure ya’ll niggas be short! It’s cut throat.

DRUG DEALER • LYRICS BY DEACON BURNS Coke Soda Water Fire Now serve them fiends on the corner Stacking paper, danger Quick here comes the coppers . Life of a drug dealer Two months behind rent Tired of hearing my bitch bitch (That) I ain’t bout shit cause I ain’t got shit. Friends can suck dick cause when the dough is spent Watch how quick they all trip and split Leaving you stuck with the check So I begged, got fronted a package of powder Stole some baking soda then hit the corner like a soldier Week straight, same clothes, no shower Gotta make my quota Pay back my nigga, flip my paper Cop my own powder Now I’m independent trick, Paid the rent, rolling in my new whip with my new bitch Nigga can’t tell me shit Won’t stop until I’m shot or on top, arrested or rich Can’t quit addicted to fast cash I love this shit and the rush you get when hopping the fence Running from under covers, K-9s crooked and niggas who pull licks. I stay strapped bitch with that Coke Soda Water Fire Now serve them fiends on the corner Stacking paper, danger Quick here comes the coppers . Life of a drug dealer (2x) Everyday working 9 to 5 struggling to get by While my boys selling crack with bitches in the Cadillac I’m stuck at the bus stop head low no props Listening to my bosses shit Broke as fuck, paying rent While these niggas clocking grip at the club popping cris I’m feeling like a trick Government taking half my check Trying to do the right thing but it don’t pay the bills When you got a GED and barely no job skills What’s left, wash dishes, mop floors, clean toilets, Or get package? So I was like, “Fuck it!” My cousin but me on the game Weed, heroin, and caine, Speed, wet, meth, and X Fiends giving half they checks Cops lurking, watch your step Block is hot, pack a tech The game is hard but no regrets. All this dough. Yo, It’s worth it. The hood is like a three ring circus, The greatest show on Earth. Nigga if you got the duckets. Coke Soda Water Fire Now serve them fiends on the corner Stacking paper, danger Quick here comes the coppers . Life of a drug dealer.

UNLOAD LYRICS BY DEACON BURNS Ain’t got no dough but blowing dro Staying fly from head to toe Looking rich but we poor Baby this is how it goes. Hangin at the corner store, drinking on a forty yo. Ain’t no other place to go so this is all we know When you’re raised in the ghetto baby better roll low Cause when them gun shots flow You better hit the floor. When we rock the show I got my crew in the front row. Cock your gats back, It’s time to unload. Setting fire to the game cause it’s time for a change I know you’re tired of these lames So look at we swang If you ain’t living on the edge you just taking up space In this rat race full of snakes out for the papes We give a whole lot more then what you paid for Music’s meant to uplift Not just getting tricks and rings and chains and whips That’s cool, but there’s more to this then just talking shit. What does it take to break through to your ignorant crew They think I’m acting brand new but I got old shoes. And stand toe to toe with anybody who wants to go. Cock your gats back It’s time to Unload. Ain’t got no dough but blowing dro Staying fly from head to toe Looking rich but we poor Baby this is how it goes Hangin at the corner store, drinking on a forty yo. Ain’t no other place to go so this is all we know When you’re raised in the ghetto baby better roll low Cause when them gun shots flow You better hit the floor. When we rock the show I got my crew in the front row. Cock your gats back, It’s time to unload. As above so below all in time all is time In the mind we grow Red light, green light, Gots to go Bootstraps bill, can’t sit still or move slow Gotta get the dough. Rent overdue. Gas bill due. Light bill due. Phone bill due. Baby gotta eat to. It’s hard to stay positive when you got to provide and give. Make you wanna sell crack to the kids Pull a strap and do a bid With life as hard as it is just to try and live. We bring the heat like a stove and you can’t stop my glow. Cock your gats back, It’s time to unload. Ain’t got no dough but blowing dro Staying fly from head to toe Looking rich but we poor Baby this is how it goes. Hangin at the corner store, drinking on a forty yo. Ain’t no other place to go so this is all we know When you’re raised in the ghetto baby better roll low Cause when them gun shots flow You better hit the floor. When we rock the show I got my crew in the front row. Cock your gats back, It’s time to unload.

Why You? Why Not? Lyrics by Deacon Burns (chorus by Grown Folk) Why you bring this nigga? What you bring this nigga for? Why you bring him? You know I don’t be fucking with everybody. What you bring this nigga for? Why you bring him? Bewildered, bothered, and bewitched My life has been eclipsed from stress and bullshit. From the rumble to the Ritz On a carousel I sit Confined to a chair, going in circles, feeling hateful and pissed. Razor to the fucking wrist Finding it hard to refuse and resist You can’t fire me cause I quit. My legs can’t move so how the fuck you expect me to kick. Snort it up, smell the flowers in the addict Locked in my own attic Like a scavenger eating roaches and rats Trying to adapt, it’s quite sporadic I see myself as a 50’s beatnik poet Hooked on smack, On The Road, like Jack Kerouac. Eat your Naked Lunch And feel the crunch as your tooth breaks From chewing flakes and jagged cunts My hair matted in clumps Life is filled with bumps You on the ledge then jump Baby live it up! Why you bring this nigga? What you bring this nigga for? Why you bring him? You know I don’t be fucking with everybody. What you bring this nigga for? Why you bring him? Know the express before your ticket explodes Cities of the Red Night Lights run low Delusions of grandeur have made me spiteful. Despicable me, I feed off the hateful. Societies façade is a fraud Pointing fingers at the odd Fucking boys behind the steeple Listen people, You’ve been deceived. Time to set the pagans free and get the Christians off they knees. Like Aleister Crowley the demons call to me To open up and bleed and spread the disease Crawling through the endless endings Only to begin at the beginning Finger tips slowly slipping There will be no smoking in the gas chamber Dance on the land mine, out of time, danger! The world is false and nothing is happily ever after. Wasn’t born with enough middle fingers! Why you bring this nigga? What you bring this nigga for? Why you bring him? You know I don’t be fucking with everybody. What you bring this nigga for? Why you bring him?

Cigarette Burns – Lyrics by Deacon Burns Verse 1: Terrorist tactics flipping styles to the point you would think I was acrobatic But really I’m crippled and retarded Living inside my own head Wheelchair zombie, return of the living dead. And I need BRAINS, but nobody got none Just mindless monkeys with fake platinum chains. And I’m deranged, holding a shotgun like a toothless backwoods hick Drinking moonshine and shit, Talking bout, “Where the niggers at? We gonna hang ‘em till they break their neck.” So respect my authority when I’m on the set. I’m an intergalactic bounty hunter like Boba Fett. Behind the moon cosmonaut rock, my brains all wet. Baby I’m out there. Can I get a mic check? Making deep cuts until the music keloids My brains on steroids I’m a fucking asteroid! Chorus: Burning Flags and Burning Bridges Burning Beds and Burning Bitches Burning Man and all his riches Gonna burn the world; use it for my blunt ashes! Verse 2: I’m the black Hunter (S.) Thompson, Fear and loathing in Cleveland Crippled from my addiction, PCP you got me tripping Jumping off of buildings doing the Triple Lindy, Searching for the ending, only end up not walking. Now I’m Stephen Hawking in my wheelchair pushing up to the mic spitting this lyrical poison. I’m a mutant being hunted by humans. I represent the weirdos with no direction Freaks and cripples with pain pill addictions and ugly ass geeks who don’t get no affection. The public got my mind twisted and contaminated. I can’t take it. So fuck trying to be accepted by the fake and plastic Botox-injected spray-on-tan puppets. If you got it you got it, but if you don’t learn to love it and live with it. Scream, “THIS IS WHO I AM BITCH!” Chorus: Burning Flags and Burning Bridges Burning Beds and Burning Bitches Burning Man and all his riches Gonna burn the world; use it for my blunt ashes!

WHIP - Lyrics by Deacon Burns Whip there's a way Where there's a whip there's a way Where there's a whip there's a way Where there's a whip there's a way Where there's a whip While the cops on the street put your hands in cuffs on your knees begging please. Profiled by the beast, if your skin ain't bleached be discreet or get beat. Until you scream out "Toby" (they) got you and your homie in the penitentiary. Just so the state can make paper and they're quick to pull a trigger, buck down another N***a. Set your clocks back before the whip cracks and they invade your sh**! Watch your back before the cops attack, hunting us down like rats, profiling the blacks. This is for the broke folk that drink and smoke, trying to forget 'cause they can't cope. and all the pain-pill addicted kripples, getting served by the hospitals, modern day dope. If you fit the description, there is no hope, just getting slammed down by your throat. Listen! It's just a modern day lynching, except they use a chair instead of a rope. Lord of the lash, they laugh with every crack of the whip, leaving another gash. Oh sh**! Bring it back, arms, legs, hips, chest, thighs, feet, hands, and finger tips. Watch your lip. Whip there's a way Where there's a whip there's a way Where there's a whip there's a way Where there's a whip there's a way Where there's a whip While the cops on the street put your hands in cuffs on your knees begging please. Profiled by the beast, if your skin ain't bleached be discreet or get beat. Until you scream out "Toby" (they) got you and your homie in the penitentiary. Just so the state can make paper and they're quick to pull a trigger, buck down another N***a. Handcuffed to the beast. Hail to the thief. (The)only thing the meek shall inherit is more grief. While the Illuminati whip and rape the weak, not allowed to think or speak. The Snake, Pyramid, and Obelisk on the money of the materialistic rich makes me sick. But if you make a stand against the government they got the nerve to label you a terrorist. Ain't that a b***#! Revenge for those left stranded alone in the darkness full of bullets. And all the cats that you shot in the streets, claiming that they had a gun when you knew it was a wallet. Keep your kids on a leash and your mouth in a muzzle. (You)don't want to be in front of the barrel. (We)gotta rebel in these streets of hell before the world pops and they kill Hip Hop. Whip there's a way Where there's a whip there's a way Where there's a whip there's a way Where there's a whip there's a way Where there's a whip While the cops on the street put your hands in cuffs on your knees begging please. Profiled by the beast, if your skin ain't bleached be discreet or get beat. Until you scream out "Toby" (they) got you and your homie in the penitentiary. Just so the state can make paper and they're quick to pull a trigger, buck down another N***a. MARCH! Left Right Left Right Left Right - KRIP HOP YOU GOTTA MARCH! Left Right Left Right Left Right - KRIP HOP YOU BETTER MARCH! Left Right Left Right Left Right - KRIP HOP YOU GOTTA MARCH! Left Right Left Right Left Right Left Right - KRIP HOP! KRIP HOP!

Boogie Nights LYRICS BY DEACON BURNS Verse 1 Yo call me J Edgar Hoover the human vacuum cleaner Rehab is for quitters and i'm a winner drug dealer slash Drug user alcoholic cigarette chain smoker Throw game on your bitch like a pitcher pour these styles Like a pitcher steal your life like a picture me and Kaya in The back of the club sipping amaretto sour i'm as wicked As a woman when it comes to keeping that head spinning My whole crews pimpin slavery begins Monday the party's Friday don't end til Sunday six more days until they take it away But i got enough ye to keep me going for 48 tequila sunrise Eat the worm and hallucinate i can't wait Yo you better break out before the party lets out and you left Ass out nigga gotta wild out if i done found out that you slippin And you got's some money unh all my sugar daddies in the Cuties and caddies paying for the coochie yo the drinks on me Stuck up in the pussy trap where it's free to see the rats but A fee to pet the cats Chours When we hit the club head straight for the bar Mezcal gonna Drink it down pocket full of paper cup full of liquor nose full of Powder gonna blow it all nipple hard little broad with no bra Showing off her thong trying to give it up Every night is a boogie night Kounterclockwise on and Bridge To my grand lie niggas that ride with me To all the bitches out there that scheme for me To all the cocaine dealers getting high me Counteract motherfuckers come roll with me To my grand lie niggas that ride with me To all the cocaine dealers getting high me To all the bitches out there that scheme for me Come on somebody scream Verse 2 Brick by hypocritical brick mentally sick habitus fatal attraction To this fatal contraption drugs money and bitches with thongs Up they ass crack table dancing hood rats pyromaniac on the Track i burn the wax learn the walk backwards Kounterclockwise to the backstabber mirrors on my shoes for The skirt and dagger but girls will be boys life is not a toy Playing games in the street will get you slain over beef watch What you say if your only one deep and bitch if you gonna Creep keep it discrete cause if your nigga find out gonna have The police looking for me cause i had to bust that ass Eat fast drink fast fuck fast drinking rum and coke sniffin Coke and glass yeah Chours x2 When we hit the club head straight for the bar Mezcal gonna Drink it down pocket full of paper cup full of liquor nose full of Powder gonna blow it all nipple hard little broad with no bra Showing off her thong trying to give it up Every night is a boogie night Kounterclockwise on and Female chorus When we hit the club head straight for the bar Mezcal gonna Drink it down pocket full of paper cup full of liquor nose full of Powder gonna blow it all nipple hard little broad with no bra Showing off her thong trying to give it up Every night is a boogie night Kounterclockwise on and on On and on on and on On and on keep rocking our beat a to to the break of dawn We gonna rock ya long and now Love the night life gots to boogie on the disco and i Love the night life gots to boogie we go on and on Keep rocking our beat to to the break Love the night life gots to boogie on the disco and i Love the night life gots to boogie we go on and on Keep rocking our beat to to the break Love the night life gots to boogie we go on and on Keep rocking our beat a to to the break of dawn We go on and on we go on and on