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letra de hell above or here below - ebony tusks

pair of filthy tennis shoes and denim stains
internal pendulum that swing like a propeller blade
lone wolf cloaked in artifice, you will never change
high-tones whistle and pop when predator hesitate
what’s beef but the audience that it generate
arbiter of proof, in his blind euphoria escalate
lift him off his feet, let the shock absorb as you levitate
spiraling flock of birds watching bodies contort and tessellate
vestibule of h-ll, souls muster to cross the acheron
wrought and penitent upon entry to necromantion
hyperventilate impure oxygen, poison battered lung
oh, the choice between having drowned or burned when you’ve had enough
breathe, the incumbent sounds of inferno
orphan children apportioned yet reticent in the circle
citizen howling spiritual out of body disturbance
who among us is haunted? the cauldron has many servants, i know

it’s something in the wind, yeah, i can feel it close
don’t say you wasn’t warned that we was kickin’ doors
get it how you live but we ain’t livin’ though
three choices, purgatory, h-ll above or here below
you look as if you’ve seen a ghost
or came up on a pocketful that isn’t yours
pray it isn’t real after you did the most
but death is certain whether h-ll above or here below
run it like a marathon on 4th and inches
christmas, distribute and pocket all the interest
you better answer when they ask you “what’s the business?”
tension, pull up with a crown and get his wig split

run it like a marathon on 4th and inches
christmas, distribute and pocket all the interest
you better answer when they ask you “what’s the business?”
tension, pull up with a crown and get his wig split

[chris copp]
parallel pair of eyes paralyzed in observance
lamentations drawing flies, cut the ties for this divergence, (here we go)
vestigial heart tethered to the silver chord
adaptations well disguised to survive the threshing floor
walking the streets made of concrete now molten
molting, morphing, mortal coil at a boil, sulfur soakin (hot!!!)
abraxis’ atlas, axis mundi taxin
a microcosm of the grand dichotomy in action
(wake up) shocked by the alarm clock, back to the daily grinding
and gnashing of t–th, so binocular it’s blinding (can you see it?)
spectrum filled with a blitz of threats on each day
and the pendulum in this pit just fits with the fiery feng shui
protagonist on schitz, sh-t’s gone true detective
just ignore the melting face, a bad trip manifested
but no psilocybin providin heightened sense of distortion
the table is set now, we all await our portion
[stik figa]
should of listen to what mama say
n0body wan to help in the kitchen but they all want a plate
fat meats greasy, brothers hard to exonerate
we ain’t from the chi but violence is still commonplace
hurting and you still can’t see scars
broken hearts cheap mascara and keyed cars
plenty of us locked in a prison can’t see bars
we ain’t built the same, god made you with cheap parts
you don’t seem hard, befuddled by all the subtle jabs
muddled rants, like he is the only one with a troubled past
hustle for cash, scuffle and let the muzzle blast
double back before your ass can write another rap
they ain’t ya homies man, you gotta watch they motives
loss of focus, all is hopeless once you’re caught in your emotions
not devoted, just bogus, tear drops in the ocean
b-st-rd children in the system, pops forgot the trojans
souls of black folk, heart rhythm like max roach
poise like portier atop quarter and half notes
on blocks with dense fog, gunpowder and crack smoke
rap like gil-scott cause i ain’t going back home
life’s a mosaic made of mire and muck
signs say “help wanted” they ain’t hiring us
some elect for shortcuts that don’t require as much
still waiting on god to turn this empire to dust
it’s something in the wind, yeah, i can feel it close
don’t say you wasn’t warned that we was kickin’ doors
get it how you live but we ain’t livin’ though
three choices, purgatory, h-ll above or here below
you look as if you’ve seen a ghost
or came up on a pocketful that isn’t yours
pray it isn’t real after you did the most
but death is certain whether h-ll above or here below

[nigel williams]
cloaked in all black with a ball cap above my eyeline
head down, i am a dark cloud amongst sunshine
nimbostratus in skyline, a revolution of misfits
my spit melts the fabric on umbrellas when it hits
six feet below the first six that the dead rest at, my camp lays their heads at
underground plotting a way to escape this death trap
death grip on the nap sack
sleeping is for the half-assed, wake up, wake up
i was once a humble giver, embracing the world with open arms
until the world embraced my heart, f-cking tore it apart
sewer dweller ever since that start
a masterpiece of misfortune, like my mourning was some modern art
luckily, i had my pops. he explained it so i’d see it
he said that we are refugees and my benevolence could be weakness
“everyone needs a little animal in them, son. believe it
or else you’ll be the prey that the predator is eating.”
i was not born this way, it was created
i am a patient of several different experimental stages
i am the yin that resides in everyone’s bas-m-nt
at the same time the yang that balances out that statement
a deviant man has awaken from the hibernation, the sleep, slumber
when i walk the earth shakes, when i speak, thunder
when i breathe the wind blows, who knew it’d be so simple
to change fate with an instrumental, a microphone and a pencil
i am everything your parents told you you shouldn’t get into
i am grendal. i am that secret weapon rebel utensil
i’m the motherf-cker that satan himself is scared to talk sh-t to
a clip full in the pistol. a pit bull to a shih tzu
the halcyon beast sees red, so now the halcyon is gone
watch as the king is overthrown by a gang full of p-wns
word is bond, underdog season’s begun
i said word is bond, underdog season’s begun

it’s something in the wind, yeah, i can feel it close
don’t say you wasn’t warned that we was kickin’ doors

- ebony tusks

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