Declaring Shenanigans​!​!​!

by Quez

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00:36
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04:53
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00:22
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00:23
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11.

credits

released September 3, 2013

All songs performed by Quez. All songs produced, recorded, mixed, and mastered by Gripp.

01. Autobiography in the Third Person (M. Linly / M. Gillson)

02. Haiku #348 (M. Linly / M. Gillson)
Additional vocals performed by Gripp.

03. Crazy Like a Fox (M. Linly / M. Gillson)
Featuring Gripp.

04. Diggity Down (Da Down Diggy) (M. Linly / M. Gillson)

05. Get Grown (M. Linly / M. Gillson)
Additional vocals performed by Crystal Linly.

06. Haiku #1849 (M. Linly / M. Gillson)
Additional vocals performed by Gripp.

07. Teaching Moments (M. Linly / M. Gillson / Z. Linly)
Featuring Fit.

08. Apply Pressure (M. Linly / M. Gillson)

09. Haiku #41 (M. Linly / M. Gillson)
Additional vocals performed by Gripp.

10. We Put the "Ill" In "Kill" (M. Linly / M. Gillson)

11. Motivate (M. Linly / M. Gillson)
Featuring Gripp.

Artwork licensed under Creative Commons (creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/) and includes work by VargaA (commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:VargaA). VargaA does not necessarily endorse this artwork or the music it represents.

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Track Name: Autobiography in the Third Person
And rumor has it
He came up out the womb a sonic boom and a match stick
Clenched between his teeth he lit it on his way out
It was his first fire spit it burned the roof of his mouth
And then the doctor said this boy’s a Huey Neutron Bomb
But his mom she said nah, a Martin Luther King Kong
His daddy said he gon’ spit that Slangston Hughes
And give these niggas the blues be bad news to crews
And when the people heard the news they all hit the avenue
In rejoice, a lot of them sparked blunts and cracked brews
And some commemorated this day with tattoos
That read “the Beatniq is here lets all go strait cashews”
They’re calling him the blues, the funk, the jazz the rock n roll
They say his first steps conquered monster obstacles
And when he smiled he would glow it’s like his soul glistened
The first word he spoke the whole world stopped to listen
He said…

Follow the man with the mic in his hand
And he’ll show you how to ge-ge-get down
He got a story to tell so everybody gather round
And by the way what they call him is the…

Follow the man with the mic in his hand
And he’ll show you how to ge-ge-get down
He got a story to tell so everybody gather round
And by the way what they call him is the…

And they say he’s out his mind out of sight outlandish out spoken
Outstanding outside the box get out foxed
By a rambling poet declaring all types shenanigans
On any Zapp Brannigan shitting on our future-rama
Plus they say he’s quite the charmer
And he love his mama and he’s worth the dollar
That you’ll spend on an album or a show or book of poem
Go and throw him to the lions crucify him if you think he’s slowing
Down the evolution of this hip hop art thang
Familiar face to many but his ways are arcane
He pull the heart strings like the long lost art came
From a past life and he’s the re-incarnate
Stepping through the Stargate
To lands unknown his only weapon is a poem
His only message is to show em how to do it on their own
And if their leader’s corrupt then it’s their job to overthrow him

Follow the man with the mic in his hand
And he’ll show you how to ge-ge-get down
He got a story to tell so everybody gather round
And by the way what they call him is the…

Follow the man with the mic in his hand
And he’ll show you how to ge-ge-get down
He got a story to tell so everybody gather round
And by the way what they call him is the…

And they say that his death will be a glorious one
Although hero unsung a legend undone
A battle un-won but the struggles carried on
By the out casted youth with angst so very strong
And they do not know his name just his poems and songs
Face forgotten with the changing times but they hang his rhymes
On their picket signs death to those crossing picket lines
They say that wickedness is everywhere and sleeps in the divine
No wonder that his rhymes are said to be the source of crime
And to listen or quote equates to death and doing time
But they still bust the rhymes from a man who’s now a myth
They call him Chupacabra not sure if he exists
But they still raise a fist computer chip in their wrist
Scratched off middle finger to the law like back off
And the moral is of course
That death can’t even stop the man spittin’ full force
Track Name: Crazy Like a Fox (feat. Gripp)
The mad rapper, not mad as in angry
Mad as in crazy, crazy like a fox
I am paradox wage war to make piece
Open for debate but don’t mistake for hate speech

When I say fuck the other side they hold no weight with me
When they motivate a base that honors criminals and greed
They call em forefathers I call em fourty thieves
They way they plunder for a nation and for them they drink tea
And throw parties I think they need some coffee
To wake up and tell em mother fucker it’s a shake up
Fuck your philosophy of trickle down science
Claim to be defiant but you rally for the giant
Sponsored by Goliath claim that David’s your name
Facilitated by Fox News grass roots no ya ain’t
And with them racist undertones I can’t be convinced
If this is America then I’m no patriot
And Gripp don’t tell em that you’re atheist
Because they wear them halos tighter then Gabriel every did
I think it’s blocking circulation to their brains
But don’t mind me I don’t know what I’m saying

I just the mad rapper, not mad as in angry
Mad as in crazy, crazy like a fox
I am paradox wage war to make piece
Open for debate but don’t mistake for hate speech

When I say fuck the other side innovate please
Demonstrate you’re more than just a trend on TV
Imitate what monkey see monkey do
Monkey make a mockery and monkey Mantan “YOUUULLL”
Crank that jigaboo superman that hoe
Don’t forget the Auto Tunes when it’s time to sing the slow parts
Oh art thou just more of the same
That’s why them old school emcees is getting board with the game
And newcomers think they all Big Meech
And say don’t talk to police yet I can smell the pig feet
On their breath what a feat how the vets critique
And disrespect their rep yet their requested on repeat
And they wear them tight jeans cause it’s all about the photo op
Kiss dudes now they screaming no homo, stop
I know I know I’m just a hater busting chops
They out making that paper I should give them their props

But I’m the mad rapper, not mad as in angry
Mad as in crazy, crazy like a fox
I am paradox wage war to make piece
Open for debate but don’t mistake for hate speech

When I say fuck the other side; we're here to gatekeep
tell MCs to vacate. They can take unpaid leave
Maybe if they weren't so concerned with making some crap to sell
then they could get back to rapping well. Here's a question you should ask yourself
Can't you see the private jets flying over you?
If Romney said that, you would prob'ly have an ulcer, dude
See 'em on TV all grinning their teeth wide
no album just a single with twenty-two B-sides
You'll see why they need a hit off that peace pipe
like B-rock right after a drone strike that's precise
like an elected rapist who's stifling legislation
with hands over his wife's face during the penetration
Look, don't mistake it for compassion. It's a racket
less a campaign platform than sexual harassment
another intern under the desk while they're laughing
while they garnish your wages for tanks and planes and call it taxes

Well I’m the mad rapper, not mad as in angry
Mad as in crazy, crazy like a fox.
Track Name: Diggity Down (Da Down Diggy)
And I’m hungrier than four fat Muslims during Ramadan
Eat a smorgasbord of more imitators than at Comic Con
It’s so astonishing
Generate the rhyme mechanically, the Automaton
The atomic bomb Hiroshima ambiance
I blow smoke like a mushroom cloud
When I drop the rhyme out of sight out of mind
Out of body experience, a rare phenomenon
You’re limited a school zone compared to my Audubon
Promptly pulled your concubine compelled her with the craft
I’m hip hops hypotenuse, slicing squares in half
If it went over your head I guess you couldn’t get the math
Mad rapper on the wrath on cliffs we clash Titans
Underwater Atlantis we clash tridents with Poseidon
Exchange lightning bolts with Zeus
I be the proof of God, him and I have battled in the booth
I’m let loose, with life saving maneuvers – Heimlich
Eclectic on the mic never know what he might spit
Might spit the renegade revolution righteous
Might spit to innovate this evolution rhyme shit
Might spit and smite every emcee despite
The fact that I might rip many that I like
But for now chump sucka got a riot to incite
I’m a Philly Blunt puffer spit the iron on the mic
And never met a Buster Douglas I’m the lion in a fight
With the poachers scoping, they got my pride up in their sights
But um… them suckas ain’t nothing to a beast
But a feast I got a taste for emcee fricassee
Jive turkeys get smoked in the hickory, picking me
To battle on the mic you must be sick of these victories
Many documented in my history
Along with broads on my dick once found it hard to commit
I’m raw dog hard with two balls under it
Drop your jaws for the cause because I’m targeting it
The molester of the metronome, leave the bitch scared
Put my testis on the microphone I think I need God
To stop the sickness, but I’m never ashamed
Bust my babies on the track and have it singing my name
Beat my dick and run it back yeah I recorded the fame
And if the trick is cinematic put the whore in the game
It’s insane diggity down da down diggy
Track Name: Get Grown
A daughter and a wife and Lord they’re my life
And Lord I sacrifice all so night I grind hard
Whether poem peddler or puncher of time card
I keep it moving til the peddle gives the metal grind scars
And even though the powers that be pull the strings
Like Geppetto, I stay sharp cut the line and fall
Feet hit the floor walk tall on my own accord
Even if it is a brawl to fight through brick walls
I keep my fists balled cupped knuckles crackling
Cause if they got your back they got your back like Bob Backlund
By they I mean the government come behind you grappling
Chicken Wing chock hold cackling
Like hyenas, but through it all we all keep being dreamers
We all look for redeemers whether you believe in Jesus
Or you don’t we’re all just trying to keep our self esteem up
When the engine gets cold and the temperature can freeze us
Get Grown…

(and get grown)
Handle that shit all on your own and get grown
And get grown
(and get grown)
Sit down young man and grow a pair of stones
And get grown
(and get grown)
Get busy living or get busy dying get grown
And get grown
(and get grown)
Get free get a life get going and get
And get grown
(and get grown)

A wife and daughter, they say my life is over
They say I might as well hang up my mic and move to Florida
Or go to the opera for the fat lady singeth
About a baby blocking dollars and a wife blocking yo penis
(OHHHHHH) well fuck it they can have it all
And if I never ball then I’ll just brag bout how I’m raw
On the microphone and make an emcee wet his panties
Call me photosynthesis the way I’m sunning these pansies
(OHHHHHHH) now back to getting grown
Cause maybe I’m the chosen one to spit this shit shalom
Or maybe it’s coincidence I’m gifted with the poem
Either or I just keep a keep, keep it on
Like a burqa at a mosque or a yamaka at temple
Just to simply pencil monumental
Well here’s an earful a mouthful an eyeful
Be mindful that your better days are not behind you
Get grown and get going

(and get grown)
Handle that shit all on your own and get grown
And get grown
(and get grown)
Sit down young man and grow a pair of stones
And get grown
(and get grown)
Get busy living or get busy dying get grown
And get grown
(and get grown)
Get free get a life get going and get
And get grown
(and get grown)

My wife that’s my lady my daughter my baby girl
Hip hop’s my bitch if I pimp her to this world
Am I wrong, in this land of sing song
Is she the King Kong forced to be strong
Locked with chains on, shackles from the arms
To the feet is this defeat or should she just keep it on
With them adolescent dreams of getting her free on
Like them days when she was young but since been dethroned
By white men in suits and forced to perform
In ways that she never would have if she was home
In ways that she never would have is she was grown
Or at least aloud to grown they way she would if she were on
Her own, instead of trademarked branded and owned
She dreams of climbing empire states and she longs
For these chains to break so she can dance and get gone
Cause revolution is her jam and freedom her theme song
She wanna get free and get grown

(and get grown)
Handle that shit all on your own and get grown
And get grown
(and get grown)
Sit down young man and grow a pair of stones
And get grown
(and get grown)
Get busy living or get busy dying get grown
And get grown
(and get grown)
Get free get a life get going and get
And get grown
(and get grown)
Track Name: Teaching Moments (feat. Fit)
And this here is Quez town
Population 5000 outy and I’m gone
You niggas kick rocks I hit the street stoned
Like Owen Heart fall off the dome when the beet come on
I’ll challenge any emcee to compete come on
Got heat spit fire then speak come on
But it’s a pity they won’t so I got to go and get em
In the city they call home and I’ll still evict them
Seal Team 6 em, covert operation
Rhymes deeper than the US occupation of Iraq
In the bush era ever so clever I’m on that
Bomb sac purple hazed if you not then fall back
Man you killing my high, and I’m killing the scene
They may have the game sewn but I’m the split in the seam
I am what’s tipping the beam I am the chip on the shoulder
Plus I’m hip hops Jon Stewart and Fit he’s Steve Colbert

And we come here to teach a little lesson how it’s done here
And show you how the rhyme can go in one ear
And not come out the other
That ‘s how we knock them niggas out the box take cover

Cause one year we’ll be the only ones that you’ll wanna hear
And covet these records like they’re something dear
And never go back
To that bullshit you listened to compared it now it’s whack

Ayyo, mic in my blunt hand; blunt in my ear
whole world looking at me like I'm something to fear
'cos them brain scans light up in the front and the rear
when these words stimulate you and them drums that you hear
start blending and seeping under your skin
the ending looks more like the beginning; hip-hop is thinning the herd
and we done out MCs that think venom
is leaking from their pen when they frequent the latest trends
with nerve like Westboro accusations of sinning
defending themselves as artists, bottom of ninth inning
your light's dimming; still see the writing on the wall
my lyrics the direct effect of dying for a cause
you lying for applause then crying for the law
when the picture gets painted for you, but iron's all they draw
(New School Soldiers) I'm out of retirement for ya'll
yelling "fire in the hole!" while you try and hold the wall

Ayyo, MCs are empty or full of shit simply
my pen bleeds and blood clots on tracks leave you in need
of a transfusion stat. My operation table's full of rap labels
and industry cats who spit fables in fact
for racks on racks and mass appeal
they'll get you all gassed up without your last meal
suggest that ass chill when heads get hot
vengeance is mine whether hip-hop is dead or not

Yo, I’m crazy like a fox you crazy like fox news
Or misinformed maybe well baby I drop jewels
Let me paraphrase myself I spit a haiku
That will crush ya whole 16 bars so very rude
We making moves cross state lines to bury dudes
On the mic leave a trail from here to Kalamazoo
Them back to the avenue where we locally challenge crews
Put some smoke in the air and even out our attitudes
Track Name: Apply Pressure
Apply pressure!
Apply pressure!
Apply pressure!
Apply pressure 'il it
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break
Til it
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break

Break the system break the locks break the rules
Everybody going broke and this shit ain’t no breaking news
The banks been breaking dudes those they take for fools
Most of them their collar blue with no mouth of silver spoon
So this Langston Hughes blues is for every race and hue
Push back and if they won’t budge them make them move
The unstoppable force is us so crush grooves
With the impact of pimp slaps sledge hammers and cannons
Pledge maximum damage to a fascist slave master
Better get them freedom passes or else it’s 20 lashes
Mother fucker, Ya Sha Clack Clack
My jobs to blast back at a jolly fat cat
With a rat up on his lap, hungry about to feast
We in the belly of the beast and the monster’s obese
And it’s sponsored by the Chief Commander in charge
Leader of the free world versus a poet a large

Apply pressure!
Apply pressure!
Apply pressure!
Apply pressure 'il it
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break
Til it
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break

Incite a riot, incite a mother fucking riot
'Tis the climate of the pirate, so get your eye ripped
From the socket, grab an eye patch and launch a rocket
Run up in congress take their attention as your hostage
Cock back knowledge blast holes in their politics
Shove the barrel of your fury down their throats make em swallow it
With no apology grab a senator by the color quick
Shack out every penny every quarter every dollar
That he got from some lobbyist on that corporate scholarship
Grimy University is where is alma mater is
So what’s the problem kids, you feeling cheated there
You feeling that the game is rigged and you can’t beat it far
Well homie look it here, I’ll help you see it clear
Beware, the big fish feed the little ones to bears
Now which one are you in this river of despair
If you dare to be free then first war must be declared

Apply pressure!
Apply pressure!
Apply pressure!
Apply pressure 'il it
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break
Til it
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break
Break Break Break Break
Break

A yo Quez man, why you talking politics
We ain’t trying to hear that why don’t you talk bout stacking dollars thick
Talk about them bitches and how you make em swallow it
What about them haters man, yo swag and how you balling BITCH!!
That all you following, I ain’t saying run for college just acknowledge when
Them freedoms that you once had quickly they’ll abolish them
That hope and change shit don’t believe it it’s just parlor tricks
Cause even black presidents lie
Might be the lesser evil but the evidence cries
Out bloody murder drone bombing shit on the sly
So precise that the spies could even spit in the eye
Of an insurgent burning down American flags
With Allah in his heart a pipe bomb in his bag
And when them drones come they’re killing everything in their path
Including innocent women and children, fade to black
Track Name: We Put the "Ill" in "Kill"
glassEyeballs
Southern Fried
Java Monkey
Art Amok
Earth Dwellaz
Guilty Pen
QFP

Yeah, we put the ill in it

I bring the ruckus, you bring the Uncle Ruckus
Cause you don’t trust this new nigga over here
I wouldn’t trust me either if I was one of my peers
Cause I’m known for killing mics stealing crowns and declaring
Niggas not to be shit, but a company bitch
While I stay independent get my money and spit
With no corporation dick up and diddling my anus
(bend over nigga take it, I’ll make you famous)
Well fuck the fame shit, I’ll stay nameless
Before some cracker in a suit dilute this potency of language
I’d rather stay dangerous anguish to these rappers
I’m 80s slang def, nigga, closed captions
Fresh, I’m what’s happening, death is what’s crashing
On their heads ha ha ha ha ha, excuse me for laughing
Ha ha ha ha ha, sense of humor kind of dark and all
I smile where you cry you can’t embark where I walk an all
I’m double the beast only one of me on Noah’s Ark and all
Until he threw me off for eating dragons body parts and all
And now you know from where the shark evolved
And how the dragon got extinct and when we lost them all
I’m straight accosting y’all microphone bossing y’all
Eat rappers like stake the way I eat them raw
And when I eat I eat it all bloody lick the plate
Emcee killer increase the murder rate
By my damn self

Beat killer, microphone killer
Rhyme killer have you ever seen a killer?
Up close and personal dope no filler
And if you ain’t killing it you might as well surrender

And the Beatniq (killing it)
Fit is (killing it)
My man Gripp (killing it)
Team SNO (killing it)
Concrete Gen (killing it)
Mr. Black (killing it)
My dude Cuban (killing it) Yeah, we put the ill in it

I’m doing fine
Cause I’m going to party like it’s 2999
Sip divine fine wine throw up the peace sign
As the time chimes 12 and it reaches 3000
On cloud 9 on my way to cloud 10
So high when I rhyme I go tell it on mountain
Me, I’m brown skin, you, you brown nose
When they say sink or swim you, you drown bro
Me, I breast stroke through lava
Shift continental plates the vibrations felt in Andromeda
And I spit this slang
The verse so uncontained it reverse the Big Bang
And unearth this shit stain of a planet, knock it off its axes
Just for being viewed in such disdain
And yeah, it’s quite cynical clinically insane
Or is it critically acclaimed for being lyrically engaging
Or do I fall on deaf ears like hearing aid
Either way a renegade like Em and Jay
And so this inner rage displayed on center stage
Explodes in a vindicated way as I slay
An emcee who makes his wage peddling a life
Contrived by gangsta movies ice and bright lights
When they ain’t bout that life but I ain’t the one to tell em
I kill em, ill with no penicillin

Black on Black Rhyme (killing it)
Jon Goode (killing it)
Mystery (killing it)
The Movement (killing it)
Abyss is (killing it)
Bull City Slam (killing it)
Salt City Slam (killing it)
Them Gold Niggas (killing it)
Cola Rum (killing it)
Sista Seuss (killing it)
Ken J Martin (killing it)
Misplaced Poets (killing it)
Off Brand (killing it)
The Remnant Crew (killing it)
Duval Slam (killing it)
Track Name: Motivate (feat. Gripp)
Underdog underground give me a pound like trending topics
Hash tag grass bag Insta-gram of chronic
Cause right now we on it we on it like a dope beat
And we some ill emcees (yeah we are Quez) sweet
Well give me that heat that fire that dope
That shit that rocks the head back and forth
And I’m like Ali on the ropes and competition is tired
And uninspired they need a diet
From that sugar coated pop and unnecessary beef
Even Michelle Obama want obesity to stop
Ok let me cool it
A jam like this got a nigga acting foolish
Unruly with the rudeness, but still the coolest alive
Breaking bread with my dude and we thrive
But still I microphone check one to stay alive
We got American dreams but allergic to apple pie

We make them put up their hands and make every arm extend
But the way that we MC, that's not where the story ends
We are on a mission and you might find it quite astounding
But, but but
we give 'em something to think about and make 'em wrap their minds around it

We in the time of iPads black presidents
Instagram and Foursquare mapping your residence
GPS directions and SuperPAC elections
And everybody stressing over mass destructive weapons
But a, through it we keep the art progressing
We offer lessons so check an awesome session
With Quez as your professor and Gripp is on his dean shit
So get up off the penis and get up on the dean’s list
We reap and sew like a Grim Reaper seamstress
Even if the seam is torn we will reweave it
Put it on the track and ad adhesive
Til black girls and bald headed horses scream we need it
I’m just playing y’all, I’m so facetious
And so sarcastic, but still a genius
Or so I tell myself and I believe it
If you believe it to then great minds think in sink

We make them put up their hands and make every arm extend
But the way that we MC, that's not where the story ends
We are on a mission and you might find it quite astounding
But, but but
we give 'em something to think about and make 'em wrap their minds around it

If you blink you might miss it
This light speed diction or this nice weed hitting
Like a Spike Lee rendition of Radio Raheem
When he’s punching the air and got them love and hate rings
We love and hate things love my mom’s baked beans
Hate to hear bad music such an ear raping
This is the music we bring cheers for grammar like Kelsey
When we rock a full house like Uncle Jesse
We rock it like the earthquakes in my birthplace
NASA couldn't rock it like I, on my worst day
I’m versed in the word play, so let these words play
Your brain is my kickball we kick it every Thursday
Game over Wednesday I’m calling it my win day
And after we kick it y’all learn something I’m your sensei
I sense you’re in dismay lost your sense like Common
But still we educate and motivate man I promise

We make them put up their hands and make every arm extend
But the way that we MC, that's not where the story ends
We are on a mission and you might find it quite astounding
But, but but
we give 'em something to think about and make 'em wrap their minds around it