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letra de strapped - matthew tressbraker

mother, could you p-ss the uh the jammy? the he… the heater, please. could you p-ss the thang? the steel thang. the tool. the burner, mother. now i believe i asked you to purchase me a firearm. could you just p-ss that to… thank you very much. ok. what’s with all the oriental writing on there? is this… did you buy it in chinatown or something? well, it’ll have to do. thank you very much… for the new video. 3-2-1 action!

yo slade rhinestone, matthew tressbraker, y’allready know who it is: matty t. hatter. matty tourettes. matte black comin’ at’cha. you know i’m that bad boy with the bad words. people know me by a lotta names but you gotta remember- the one name you gotta know me by is i’m mercurial. i’m unpredictable. i get wild like that. a lotta kids don’t know. they been steppin’ up like:

“hey matty! yo you been talkin’ that medieval sh-t… that fantasy wonderland sh-t… or whatever and it sounds good but when you come where i’m from… you come to my hood and you try that sh-t you gon’ leave with a hot bullet and goin’ out on a stretcher.”

alright alright alright. what? you think ya’ boy matty ain’t got no guns? sh-t, i been grippin’ walnut stocks. dem big bore barrels cuz i love that kickback

oh you thought i wouldn’t go there? like i’m afraid to exploit and capitalize upon and glamourize the suffering of others in my artistical pursuits? thereby diminishing the seriousness of their plight and the reality of their dire situation? is that what you think?
naw. you done overestimated me…

everyone who knows me knows i’m mercurial. i’m mercurial
hands shakin’ and mad as a hatter. you can get tagged here for ten shillings and a sixpence!
that’s matty the hatter
– i’m ready willing and waiting until you slip next and in this left i’ll grip techs
from here on in we’ll talk about you in the past tense
the late white hare layin’ right there
actin’ all big after havin’ that little piece of cake, alice. you’ll float out of here in a flood of tears
i’ll make you grinning cats all disappear

at matty’s tea party when i dumps on ’em
in boston among the flotsam and jetsam
when that red dot’s on your head, son, i’ll get some, get some, get some!
cargo pant pockets and backpack all bulgin’ with heckler and koch branded clips of full metal jackets

sh-t, i got guns so big i gotta mount ’em on mountain tops
with bullets so large you can countdown to 10 before that payload drops
outgun a station of cops
with a range so broad sh-t sprays like a fountain’s top
with a barrel so mad long and wide it’s like a hadron collider
when that beam locks on its exposin’ secrets inside you
explosions like thunderclaps with some time elapsing between when you see the flash ’til you hear that pop!
and you wonder whats got you gutshot and covered in blood, kid, my f-ckin blunderbuss did!
i’m launched rockets to your flintlock muskets
keep on walkin’ or you’ll end up dusted
you’re .38s with snub noses tucked
i’m open carry shotguns, cousin, with cut stocks and muzzles
twelve 12 gauges in the trunk that’s a dirty dozen!
and i made sure your squad heard me coming

sh-t i rode around all over town i showed up alone – all loud
to unload on clowns trying to hold me down
them copy cats all rockin’ the same caps, links and kicks
i’ll turn them clones to clouds that’s a crimson mist
when this heater blows it’s blow! and the whole block bleeds
like when crows form crowds: that’s a murder
but that fowl flock flees when i unholster the burner
you never heard of me before but you know me now
shallow graves in my wake: ash and bones abound
broken limbs pokin’ out like they grow in the ground
homicidal urges i’m hummin sinful dirges like i’m just so into sound

i set my backpack down that steel go clank clink kach-nk
like i’m concealin plates, pots and pans and a couple of kitchen sinks
my trigger finger’s itchin’ to split wigs on rat finks
b-tch, don’t you know that loose lips sink ships?
and i got the stockpile to put the t-tanic in the drink
the tip of this mossberg? that’s just the tip of the iceberg
my -rs-nal’s gigantic. i roll up pop the trunk and guys panic – twitchin’ eyes frantic
bowin’ down prayin’ to god like they i-slamic
islamic or whatever the f-ck just know that i’m slammin’ clips and i’ll blammin’ triggers
me and my fam’ strapped and i’m packin’ five cannons bigger and with
more steel in the cabinets than heavy duty mechanics
with craftsman-built ratchets in both hands with attachments to snap on and brandish
matty-t’s in the ride, gangster lean to the side: bold and italic
lookin cold on the surface but i’m ready to erupt i’m f-ckin’ icelandic: frozen yet volcanic

f-ck world peace! i packs a piece and i got racks of these
when sh-t’s boring i spark violence – a catalyst known to start fires. i’m a live wire!
you heard what i’m sayin’ yet?
when you get the point you’ll know it: serrated bayonet!
and i’m stabbin’ slow. these slugs been known to mushroom on impact
i’m infamous as “al capone”
from head to toe: i’m “al blood-n-gore”
“al pacino” in godfather: michael corleone
double shooter with bars call me “al cohol”
bullet magnet “al-qaeda” at the “al amo”
i’ll turn that lead to gold like 50-cent i guess i’m “al chemical”
but naw f-ck 50. i’m twice as nice and worth thrice the price: i’m a buck-buck-buck fifty!
got a turret on the back of this flat bed truck with me
he can suck this d… e s-e-r-t e to the a to the g l e
my palm’s on the grip pull the trigger squeeze
your knees on the dirt have you beggin please bro
but for reals tho

i got plans so top secret low down on the d-low
there’s underground but this here’s 273 degrees below: project absolute zero
i got a gun so big it’s being -ssembled by borg cubes the next galaxy over
it’s forged, fused with extra capacity ordinance and i’m about ready to plot in the coordinates
i’ll use pluto, venus and mars as bullets
the trigger i’ll use jupiter’s gravitational force to pull it
slingshot em along saturn’s orbital course to its fullest
hook it to the sun when the solar cycle discharges
forget standin off with rifle barrages
you can’t stifle or dodge this
i’m blastin off like the astronaut: michael collins
with the earth in my sights and ready to take the shot at all humanity living and dead
to set off a chain of events and repercussions in affirmation that
the line between creation and destruction is often a blurred one
this gon’ be a big bang if i ever heard one!

- matthew tressbraker

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