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Forum » Real HIP HOP Forever » Artists Introduction » Cage: Material
Cage: Material
Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 5:48 PM | Message # 1

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Palko was born in Würzburg, Germany to American parents. His father, Bill Murray, was stationed on a West German military base as a mWhat follows below is a detailed life-long history of Chris Palko, aka Cage. While there is a whole lot of information here, none of it is filler; everything detailed below was instrumental in making Cage who he is at this point, and the story below is one of the most insane, crazy, tortured and triumphant stories you could imagine. Cage’s life has gone from watching his father shoot heroin, to addiction and violence and mental institutions to cutting an album for Columbia Records and being a rising star in the heyday of the NYC independent rap scene, to the final culmination and personal triumph that this album has become. It’s a brand new record from someone who has been through more extreme circumstances than most people could ever imagine, and has come out triumphant and a better person because of it, and whose artistic vision now reflects this. EARLY LIFE: + Born in Wurzberg, Germany to American parents. His father, Bill Murray, was an MP in the US army stationed on West German military base where Cage and his parents lived until Bill was dishonorably discharged for selling and using heroin. When he was 4, Cage and his family were sent back to the US where they took up residence in Middletown, NY. + When they got to Middletown, his father continued to abuse heroin, often making Cage assist by pulling homemade tourniquets around his arm. His father left them suddenly with another woman. The last time Cage saw his father, he had a standoff with the Middletown state troopers after threatening his family with a shot gun. He was arrested and Cage has not seen him since. He was 8 years old at the time. TEENAGE LIFE: + By the time his mother was on her third marriage, Cage was getting kicked out of Middletown Highschool during his freshman year. His stepfather would beat him up, punch him in the head, even leaving a scar over his eye. Around this time, Cage started using drugs (LSD, mescaline, weed, alcohol) + His mother sent him to live with his uncle (a Vietnam vet who never retired from the army) on a German military base for a year. That uncle hated him, beat him up and sent him home to America after a year. + Chris started getting into all sorts of trouble, including getting arrested (for drug possession, fighting in the streets, etc). He was 16 years old at this point. He was put on probation for charges, but after several violations found himself facing real jail time. His mother convinced the judge that Chris was mentally unstable and instead of prison he was sent to the Stony Lodge Psychiatric hospital for a 2 week evaluation which turned into an 18 month stay. + During his stay at "The Lodge", Chris was part of a small group of medical guinea pigs who were chosen to be the test subjects for a new and untested drug called Prozac, which hadn’t hit the market yet. Misdiagnosed and placed on Prozac, Cage became suicidal and made several attempts to try and kill himself (first by hanging himself by his own shoe laces, then by saving up his mandatory lithium doses for a month and ingesting all at once). He was subsequently put on suicide watch. + He was restrained over twenty times for periods of up to 13 hours at a time (illegally), sometimes by straightjacket, sometimes by 10 point bed restraints. Cage would later refer to this period in his life as his "rap college". He would spend his time doing the only thing he could, which was go deep into his mind and hone his imagination into the visceral and dramatic writing style he has to this day. + After being subjected to Lithium, Prozac, and a host of other drugs (and then even more drugs to counter the side effects produced by all the initial medication), Chris went from being a troubled teenager into a legitimately bi-polar young man. + He was eventually released on outpatient program and christened himself Alex, after the protagonist from A Clockwork Orange. RAP LIFE: + 18 years old, fresh out of the lodge, Cage decided to pursue his the talent he honed while in hell and try to become a professional rapper. He made a demo, got a manager and was introduced to Pete Nice of 3rd Bass fame. Pete featured Cage on his solo effort "Dust to Dust" on the song "Rich Bring ‘Em Back" in 1993. This was his first appearance on a rap record. + Through Pete Nice Cage met fledgling radio personality Bobbito Garcia who had just started his soon to be legendary late night mix show with DJ Stretch Armstrong. He was invited up to the show several time, earning a rep in the emerging underground NY scene as a savage and raw new MC with an original style based on his tortured life and demented imagery + Through his connection with that show, he met and formed a strong friendship with the KMD (whose front man Zev Love X would eventually be known as MF DOOM) and formed a very strong friendship with the late great Subroc. Cage was the last person to see Subroc alive before he was killed. He also became associated with and close to: Kurious Jorge, K-Solo, Godfather Don, Artifacts, Pharoah Monch, El-P (who actually worked with cage briefly in 1994 on a 3 song demo now lost to the world), the Juggaknots and many more. + Bobbito and Pete Nice started a label through Columbia Records called Hoppoh and was on the verge of singing cage as one of their first releases. At this time cage was heavily abusing drugs and every time he got into the studio he was too high to record anything that Columbia thought was worthy of a major label release. + Frustrated and dejected, Cage put his rap dreams on hold and moved back to Middletown where he got deeper and deeper in drug abuse and found out he was having a child. + In 1997, Cage’s friend and mentor Bobbito Garcia started his own independent label Fondle 'Em Records, and offered cage a twelve inch deal. Refocused and determined to get it right this time, Cage penned the single Agent Orange b/w Radiohead. The single would go on to be one of the landmark records of the golden era of NYC underground/independent rap music and propelled Cage into cult star status. + After a few more singles with Fondle ‘Em, Cage met and became friends with Philly to New York transplant rap group The High And the Mighty. He formed a group with them called the Smut Peddlers, and Rawkus (who were riding high on albums by Company Flow and Mos Def, to name a few) offered them a full length album deal through Eastern Conference’s imprint, Eastern Conference. The record sold over 50 thousand copies and solidified Cage’s status as a rising rap star in the independent scene. + Cage went on to do more records with Eastern Conference including his first solo record Movies for the Blind. The record was the realization of the very character he became through his tortured early years, relying on raw, savage, often cruel, misogynistic, gritty and rebellious attitudes he had formed through his earlier years. The record struck a chord, selling 15 thousand copies in just 2 weeks, and his legion of dedicated fans grew ever bigger, attracted to his visceral and dangerous persona and music. He traveled the world several times over in support of the record and became a major draw in the independent show circuit. + Soon after he started the supergroup Weathermen, comprised of good friends Camu Tao, El-P, Aesop Rock, Yak Ballz, Tame 1, Breeze of the Juggaknots and Vast Aire. + Restless with his artistic direction and feeling trapped by a persona created out of his troubled youth, he found himself at a crossroads. He felt as though he was squandering his writing abilities and catering to music with content that only scratched the surface of what he was about. He no longer wanted to project crazy for the sake of crazy and grew tired of showing the results of his past and how they reflected on his personality. Instead, he wanted to explain why he was the way he was and wanted to make a record that he could play for his daughter someday; a record that reflected the man he was now while at the same time finally shedding light on the source of his rage, pain and rebellion. It was at this point that he and El-p started to seriously talk about making an album that would truly realize his desire to take his art to another level. They cautiously talked and imagined this transformation for over a year, culminating with his signing with Definitive Jux records. El-p and Cage worked together to bring these ideas to fruition, and the result is a cathartic and radical statement of a tortured boy turned man. A detailed, imaginative and often disturbing look into the dark territory that Cage had so closely guarded from the fans that loved him.
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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 5:50 PM | Message # 2

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[Scratches]

[Verse 1]
Welcome to a piece of brain tissue, my brain's lungs
Filled with octane like liquid it came from
Some silly, said her tits sellin illy
Really? By the jar? Pump the car full of grey jelly
Called her Ronda, after I shit on the dash
Cause I can't stand hooked up on dust
The three manuveur so swiftly in and out of looters
Through checkpoints with juice in stashed coolers
2002, my album's played through
ID on the window like it's fucking Beirut
Too bad no planes flew into MTV
I'll never get a platinum plaque for MP3
Being blackballed by a white MC - Pause
I guess that faggot found the right MD
And I'm twisted but not like faggots that suck fame
This clown is saying I'm sicker with metal than mudvayne
I train my following like a bitch modelin
H is like a God and it won't stop hollerin
Fuck needing a TV to be a rockstar
Punch a hole through Mark Wahlbergs chest and dent a copcar
Put my brain in it, I wouldn't last a minute
Scribble some shit in 30, I'm love like gimmicks
Sluts, cynics, ducks with dipped spinnage
Fuckin you up in the front row's good for image

[Scratches]

[Verse 2]
I gotta walk on, half feet in Harlem for a gorilla
That lost his family and want revenge on his killer
Clapped the poacher, fled the stomach of rap through and ulcer
Covered in blood, eating with vultures
Off the chain and got a hook in his backskull to my feet
Breastfeeding, moms was cooking up crack
Drop me in a pot, cop in the spot, pistols gleaming in the sun
Look son - I'm fistal fiendin
Nine to script with leading any malicious beatings
Specially if feeled if the couples bitch is breedin
Six is reading, bitterly gritty
Caught a GTA charge before Liberty City
Too bad no brains blew out no heads plenty
I'll prolly die after I Blow like Ted Demme
There's no conspiracy, your bitch is a forced fit
In the telly yelling 'Behold the pale horse dick'
Fuck the Taliban, I'm back to Ballys, and
Keep your little faggot brother off her Sally, man
I can explain this 'do not cross this line' in my brain
Feds in the crib, but they're not finding the cane
Cause time in the game, New York is trife
My boy T on the lamb like a fork and knife
The corporate life, too fond of the blonde talker
So I grew a beard and switched sides like John Walker

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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 5:51 PM | Message # 3

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Blue collar to corporate blessed the unfortunate
Like when I put my foot down that bitch still aborted it
Stuck the canister under my jacket like the lucky one
'Uh, sir you can't leave with that,' Bitch this my fucking son!
Put with the gun crammed in the glovebox
With 151 drum bottles, I don't drink, they gettin' flung
With lit rags in it, kill 10 step-dads a minute
Still won't be a star till the label as a gimmick
Even if I limit timid com-mi-tive cynics
Each one famous suicide at gunpoint to mimic
You too can be a mock-celeb or the last there is
Or be ghost like money that played Casper in kids
I put a sick twist every other frame design so
You see AIDS victims selling pretzels at a slideshow
With a nine shown I brand and skin 'em
Run out of punchlines when you kids stop standin' in 'em

[Chorus]
Yo Chris I think they think you know too much
Yeah Sis I think you put coke up your nose too much
They cut my hands off so I couldn't hold too much
They try to kill me through my dick with these hoes too much
You stack dough too much
You smack hoes too much
Well you can blame it on the mint leaves I roll too much
They cut my hands off so I couldn't hold too much
Don't stand off, bullet holes show too much

They see weed on dust with an ounce a pound
Is like jumping out of building grabbing napkins on the way down
My impant I scarred, I'm anti-star
Though I shine like one buried underground with yall
And I tried to learn good just wasn't concerned, should
I really be on my sixth bottle of wormwood
My skin is burnin' blisternin' aloe ow
Dragged this big fat bitch in to see Shallow Hal
I drink Jack puff black in Orange County
Bought a gun with a body to stick in this whore's Audi
Knew this kid Craze he would stick dope on a chick open ha'
Then I changed my name to Cage like Nick Coppola
All these snakes with these forked tongues stitched together
After I put down the pepper I switch the weather
Whatever rights they want to shrug off for safety feelin' taken
For a Rabbi appearance cuz they kneelin' to Satan

[Chorus]

Then, I stepped over the bloody axe frame with wax fame
Rogue pistol runnin' through New York like Max Payne
Out shootin' celebs, I'm rootin' for feds
In a pit of lions then we sip shoot from the heads
I run with maniacs liable to kill at any minute then
I wonder why I can't shake this insanity image
It's been a dead Cage since I've strapped to beds
And shot up with needles and five since I put gas to heads
You was bitch in high school no rep no threat
Riding my jacket like I'm a hand off the fans at coat check
Haters want to put they bitches up no stress
Like your life in the monitor box behind the desk
I scribble shit on paper, pay rent, look at nature
See a menage before lunch, them bitches are ravers
Drive blazers, still inside my North Face
Drippin' formaldahyde and short-circuit my tazer

[Chorus]

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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 5:53 PM | Message # 4

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This is the soundtrack to kill your stepfather

Leave the faggot unconscious and douse him in Goldschlager

Light the match, now kick him till he holler

Kick him harder, he only had forty dollars

Jump in your moms whip your face dripping

Leave the tabs alone, no such thing as safe tripping

Bumps of K help explain what's inside you

Look in the rear-view, he's still dragging behind you

Pull it over, you skidded off half his shoulder

Pouring rain you can still smell the blood odour

Think of all the shit he put your mom through

He's half dead, it's already starting to calm you

Tell him to bite the curb then kick till it's heard

Read the papers nerd, stepfather massacred

Start to laugh, you know it's alright

Cause when they questioned your moms you was sleeping all night

Three in the chest, I saw him drop

The only time that I ever called him pop

Two in his back while he's dead on the ground

One more in the head because he made a little sound

Ran out of bullets so I used the blade

Wear rubber gloves cause he might have AIDS

Better call home because I'll be late for supper

Sorry mom, I just killed this mother fucker

Cut school cause you like fuck school

Mom fuck you, I'll throw you into a truck too

Keep my drugs, I can sneak in more

Let's all go rob my stepfather's sneaker store

I got the codes and pluis the new shocks in

Nobody's watching so jail ain't an option

Fuck trust, tried to kill my family twice

Stupid mother fuckers trying to raise an anti-christ

I steal from the bitch that shit me in the ditch

And plot the death of the fag that said he'd make her rich

In dish washing gloves, anger starts to flood

At gun point, got mom wrapping the carcus up

See through stab wounds, a barbeque at dad's tomb

Barbeque chicken, I can tell mom is glad too

Meet you in the car, rolled the haze

Rubbing my full stomach while I pissed on his grave

Three in the chest, I saw him drop

The only time that I ever called him pop

Two in his back while he's dead on the ground

One more in the head because he made a little sound

Ran out of bullets so I used the blade

Wear rubber gloves cause he might have AIDS

Better call home because I'll be late for supper

Sorry mom, I just killed this mother fucker

Put me on a pins petition, man listen

My mom might slip in your blood and die in the kitchen

My hands itching to push the blade then my fist in

Pop out your back knocking your spine out of position

Parts missing while they scoop you off the ground

The class clown ready to pull the mask down

Empty the gun, then it's time to reload

Mapping out his murder, pissing for my P.O

Get home, he's on the couch running his mouth

Walked up to him and put his own gun in his mouth

His mouth painted the wall, he's still standing waiting to fall

Heard a car pull up, I shoud've stayed at the mall

But I'm sick of getting treated like a god damn step child

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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 5:54 PM | Message # 5

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Suicidal Failure

(Cage Talking)
Remember how good things use to be
Remember how good things everything use to be
It used to just be so good
It used to just be me and this girl, yeah right, right!

Sitting in my room with a razor blade
thinking on my days are played
as much as my single needs to fade away
shoot my self in the arm and start bleeding
dont wanna go yet,stick a straw in my wound an taste my heart beating
f**king bit*h left me and i aint even peeped yet
f**k all that noise a play poy the sleeps wet
smoke a bundle till the face lace my brain and neurons
calving on my donwfall and on my f**king forearm
cage snap out of it,it's just a girl,it's just the world
it's just a life,it's just a rusty gamble knife
wedged between my ribs scrating my heart up tonight
im gonna pull this sh*t off in front of all my friends
when swimming under the brooklyn bridge trynna catch the benz
didnt swim deep enough my head enblowded ten percent
floated to the surface,the paramedics like whats this stench?
(I want everbody to back up,he's still alive)

(chorus 2X)
Im a suicidal failure,look my life's a failure
I cant make it in rap becuase my birth's an error
do what I can to catch a quick death
but I meant to be here and thats a f**kin hell i live wrecked

Took the phone off the hook,in multi-colored pills
watch the downward absolute,started writing out my will
give my dawg bootlegs pearced-two in DC

so my girl who left me when she said,'pick me in pcp'
since i love to smoke I thought it was a joke
tried to hang myself and I fell free from the rope
broke both my arms,my neck smashed my themar
got up somehow and lived in front of a beamer
cracked my ribcage, look what you did cage,your dying
but im not dead yet im still trying
cut my wrist and walked past some crips bleeding red
in hopes that I get shot in the f**king head

(chorus 2x)

I drinked a bottle of jacks, lift three bottles of kitty
in the middle of the freeway walking to the city
so much pcp I changed my name to watermouth
pumpin acid ace i walked into a jewish slaughter house
throw myself on the hook, now thats the chorus
got split from my neck to my dick,now thats what poor is
hallow man look at all my dangling parts
dropping to the gutter with a piece of you in my heart
little piece of sh*t that I couldnt fling from my chest
should of stayed alot long enough to kill the faggot with
but right now, my skin is getting stripped off
each one of my limbs is ripped off covered in thick sauce
my head hits the convale an im thinkin a brail of cent
im wacthing a movie alone's alone and your sucking somebodys dick
six seconds left when i die im gonna find her
on some poker dice shit,while my face goes through the grinder

(chorus 2x)

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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 5:56 PM | Message # 6

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I'm an anarchist, no wait, I'm an Antichrist
Couldn't find a third six of my scalp so I used a knife
Scratched it in, I'm wasted, getting trashed again
An active ten, laughing and slashing friends

Selling dust to kids is how I used to spend the day
'Cause I was only trying to live like Tim McVay
I respect women's lib by letting them get their mace off
My dogs are hungry so I flick em with cutting your face off

Follow my lead, smoke weed and bleed sloppy
If you see me selling out in the store one more copy
Jump in the crowd and start swinging the cordless
Then dismember all you high-tech spy kids with a swordfish

See these cats in the streets off TV, they all bitch
Fans with a mic wanna battle, they all shit
So I push cop killers and things, they call quits
Then let off one in the crowds, they all hits

My career's low on gas, I'm stabbing the rapper in sight
A suicidal failure like Shady's ex-wife
One day got too pissed and sliced open two wrists
I punch lines 'til there's coke all over my two fists

Look off over crowd, connect nicotine buzz
Then find your bitch dug out like the headrest where them screens was
Fuck your six, I got sixteen waiting
Anymore patient than when they switched me to out-patient

Left the hospital and dissed my whole crew
Even pop knew the deal and walked out when I was two
Get slammed in the dirt, murked and earth plate shaked
You ain't stirring hurricanes, you breath on birthday cake

See some more fags, we'll choke them herbs
And beat promoters down and be booked on spoken word
If I'm too sick, I'm sorry, I'm trying to get my head right
Wrapped up in this cult that I started on my website

See these cats in the streets off TV, they all bitch
Fans with a mic wanna battle, they all shit
So I push cop killers and things, they call quits
Then let off one in the crowds, they all hits

I snap a copy of Blade on DVD in half
Slice your neck and hand you a pamphlet on AIDS
Smut Peddlers, break up is apparent
When I put shit together like Malcolm McLaren

So Keep staring, I keep feeding your brain flaws
I'm porn again like the scam that got me in chain stores
Cage, number 9 on Billboard, fuck
Now I gotta sick Kubrick on Lil' Bow Wow's nuts

Long range shots to where you and your mans is
Missed and hit some skinny ugly white bitch in Kansas
Scratch her eyes out right where the evil itched her
Need a [unverified] elixir, a heaven [unverified]

See these cats in the streets off TV, they all bitch
Fans with a mic wanna battle, they all shit
So I push cop killers and things, they call quits
Then let off one in the crowds, they all hits

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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 5:57 PM | Message # 7

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My intelligence is money
My skin is the streets of New York
My arms and legs are its fucked up bridges
The subways are the worms that come through my corpse
Liberty, my bitch, fucking everyone
They cut my two middle fingers down but my dick is still standing
I walked into Nasa, my pocket full of envelopes
And this chick swinging from my dick is into dope
Like hi-jackin with no planes, it's harmless
Way to shermed out to kick your fucking skull into your armpits
All found a dime, what's the worst that could happen
Cage got a knick for 8 millimeter action
No family man, even my daughter earning chasing after me with a fucking handy cam
Flippin while I'm holdin a jar, tell me if I'm going too far
Turn around I left some coke in the bar
Can't waste the range premise on this FBI-secretary with tits unless she's a menace
See the liquid kids and streams of five on her
This is the minds blotter, paper-savior dipped in high blotter
And I'm more patriotic with the narcotic wrapped in the little flag in the back ????
I ain't tryna train the sane, I'm playing the game
Like numbers scratched off a gun, they change your name
Chase the past and get the violence to spread
Got my arms in the dirt tryna silence the dead
Even when you win you lose in the end
So I take acid out of my back and use it again
Excuse me brother, why tap your spinal cord?
while open-mic emcees waste vinyl cords
??? for skin, your flesh is born from it
Empty the clip in your Toyota GS400
If you're too old to hustle, put the gun down, uncle
That's a nice vest with your head hangin from its last muscle
Go cop the album, keep me alive
And my functioning creative compartment will be downsized
Beyond demise, it's high maintenence
Looking for drugs with my hands crawling with agents
Biological, with the hands on my nostril
Can't get a vaccine with half the city in a hospital
All these doom-leaders, and their spoon-feeders
Can take the young, and let them lose leaders
I ain't tryna train the sane, I'm playing the game
Like numbers scratched off a gun - they change your name
Chase the past and get the violence to spread
Got my arms in the dirt tryna silence the dead
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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 6:00 PM | Message # 8

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My intelligence is money
My skin is the streets of New York
My arms and legs are its fucked up bridges
The subways are the worms that come through my corpse
Liberty, my bitch, fucking everyone
They cut my two middle fingers down but my dick is still standing
I walked into Nasa, my pocket full of envelopes
And this chick swinging from my dick is into dope
Like hi-jackin with no planes, it's harmless
Way to shermed out to kick your fucking skull into your armpits
All found a dime, what's the worst that could happen
Cage got a knick for 8 millimeter action
No family man, even my daughter earning chasing after me with a fucking handy cam
Flippin while I'm holdin a jar, tell me if I'm going too far
Turn around I left some coke in the bar
Can't waste the range premise on this FBI-secretary with tits unless she's a menace
See the liquid kids and streams of five on her
This is the minds blotter, paper-savior dipped in high blotter
And I'm more patriotic with the narcotic wrapped in the little flag in the back ????
I ain't tryna train the sane, I'm playing the game
Like numbers scratched off a gun, they change your name
Chase the past and get the violence to spread
Got my arms in the dirt tryna silence the dead
Even when you win you lose in the end
So I take acid out of my back and use it again
Excuse me brother, why tap your spinal cord?
while open-mic emcees waste vinyl cords
??? for skin, your flesh is born from it
Empty the clip in your Toyota GS400
If you're too old to hustle, put the gun down, uncle
That's a nice vest with your head hangin from its last muscle
Go cop the album, keep me alive
And my functioning creative compartment will be downsized
Beyond demise, it's high maintenence
Looking for drugs with my hands crawling with agents
Biological, with the hands on my nostril
Can't get a vaccine with half the city in a hospital
All these doom-leaders, and their spoon-feeders
Can take the young, and let them lose leaders
I ain't tryna train the sane, I'm playing the game
Like numbers scratched off a gun - they change your name
Chase the past and get the violence to spread
Got my arms in the dirt tryna silence the dead
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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 6:00 PM | Message # 9

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[Cage]
Homeless cardboard cribs, cops shoot civilians
Vendors rap stars wall street billions
Donald Trump shotgun pumps illegal store fronts
Dollar fifty dutches, af one's and dunks
Skyscrapes planes hit 'em army in the subway
High risk orange alert everyday
My click is a clip that spits in glock land
Walk like I'm from the hood, hair like and indie rock band
Throw fits then pitch from hammers blow lungs up
Before Onyx was telling me to throw them guns up
My style was sick and homeless freezing and stuck
'till Def Jux stuffed them gees in the cup
Now It's the season to fuck shit, piss in the morning flicker
Lights in your head and earn my explicit warning stickers
NY on the fitted shines from the brain inside
So I don't need a Yankee on for a New York frame of mind

[Chorus]
I'm trained in the dirt, I strain to be heard
The fame of the words alive in my city
Stray from the herd I say what I learned
painfully burned alive my city
Aim for the dirt, claimin the earth, danger alert
alive in my city
Though the same that desert, I remain when they
mirk, claim a grain of the worth in my city

[Cage]
Knocked up Jux, they had a monster I'm TV on the street
In the cabbage patch with premies on my feet
I got a New York bop itchy index like a New York cop
Sick in whichever city my tour stops
So by the time I get home, I'll have spread so much enjoyment
I'll create the vaccine, then destroy it
I pull immaculate concepts from thin air
Implemented by the listener to learn until I get there
I'm most alive from one to five
In the morning Thursday's KCR gave birth to weatherman, then died
Homeland security advisory system won't work
Until the danger rainbow jumps into red alert
Divide quickly, a few can ride with me when martial law hits
Pack up the whip and hide with me
Until the eve of destruction paints a town black
And anarchy ensues you'll have the soundtrack

[Chorus]

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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 6:01 PM | Message # 10

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[Verse One]
A cold day in hell I feel good
At least I feel as good as real feels if real even feels good
I think back to being a kid and getting my ass kicked
And when I sold my soul to the devil to make me rap sick
Page from cage's brain, angels dust off the un-godly
Riding through my child-hood to hear my six-year old body
Black-out for second, pick my head up off the street
Little kid handle my face-its not me in the driver seat
Father comes out screaming drops the cigarettes and lighter
Scoops me up with his left arm his right fist snuffed the driver
Takes me in the house stops the blood from wandering out
Is this a dream or time travel?
I ponder on the couch
Walks in with a black bag
Wrap my rubber snake around his arm and made me pull it tight
Hit himself with a spike
Drew blood and pulled his mask down
My hands blue until he let my arm go and he passed out

[Verse Two]
Erratic then gone, I go from manic to calm
Watching the yellow liquid dripping back out of his arm
No automatic alarm sounded
trying to wrap my six year old brain around it
Went in his pockets took his money and couldn't count it
Went to the front door buts it locked observe it
Pulled up a chair to reach the dead bolt
But I'm too weak to turn it
Give it another try all the while still scoping him
Now I pan the room and see my escape in the open window
Scurry the floor
climb out hang then drop into the snow and
My captor snatches me back up
Pulls me back into hell
Starts shaking me to weaken me
To teachin me to be a man by repeatedly beatin me
I hope I grow up before I'm finished being strangled
I black out then wake up tied to the coffee table
With a jump rope cable to my ankle so I can't run
He walks back in the room

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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 6:02 PM | Message # 11

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(That music makes you feel downright patriotic, doesn't it?)

Our nation must come together to unite

I know that human beings and fish can coexist peacefully

Nobody needs to tell me what I believe

But I do need somebody to tell me where Kosovo is

The illiteracy level of our children are appalling

(Beware, I live)

I wake up to a caffeine, cigarette vaccine

Then bathe in water I wouldn't drink before gasoline

Feel like a loser 'cause I'm not in Fallujah

Painting a land cruiser with an iraqi then taking his ruger

No M-16 to give me a callus

Inhuman super malice for GOB uber alles

Baby suicide bombers hurdle suitcases in a nursery

I'm in a deli eating tuna, tasting the mercury

Then try to wash it down with a two dollar bottle of water

Get on the train and think of terrorists with box cutters

Gun concealer 'cause I see a realer reality

And what I breathe through my nasal cavities, killing my batteries

Bombs in the metropolis, out all eye sockets

Esophagus melted out some shite group will get their props for this

Look, I need petro for my Mercedes

But I'm not trying to kneel or die for emperor Cheney

Maybe I'm crazy but I will not just follow the herd

Unless, of course, it's en route to lynch Mike Bloomberg

Being pimped by a gas pump and all it's Saudi members

Are like "fuck you!" with New York's two middle fingers

If the opposite of pro is a con then look beyond this

The opposite of congress must be progress

What if the second coming's aborted and put in the dirt

I still don't know what to wear with this orange alert

(Run, coward)

I was proud the other day when both republicans and democrats

Stood with me in the Rose Garden to announce their support

For a clearer statement of purpose: you disarm, or we will

American flags fly, moral's high

A unit of twenty or so repelling apaches in the sky

Into a village of killers, little Jimmy from Jackson

Mississippi, just graduated and seeing action

M-16 locked, loaded and spitting properly

Whoever's in that line of fire - chest full of democracy!

Turn the corner, team leader, neck up, the nose gone

Blown off, this is not PS2's Soccom

Jimmy stays so calm, shoots, count nothing

Riddled in his back answers come flying out his stomach

Face down, then it's face up in a bed, almost dead

Eyes slowly open, IV bags and no legs

A couple sandwiches and some bloody bandages

In a room full of amputee GI amateurs

He gets the word that his unit didn't make it

Got a free ticket home but flat lined before he got to take it

We're certain there are people that can't stand what America stands for

We're certain there are madmen in this world

And there's terror, and there's missiles

And I'm certain of this too (I hunger)

Cops tape the scene up, gunner downs 9

They're chasing away kids playing hop-scotch in this chalk outline

Two F-16's, screeh an iridescent sky

Look down, we're not in Iraq, we're in N.Y.

Rats in the streets, we move underground like earthworms

Two coasts couldn't abort Satan in his first term

The army in the subway, walking with toolies

I'm on the train with the back of the dollar bill still talking to me

Drive with my left, I know what's right - my weapon hand

Like the map of DC streets still shows a pentagram

License on the car window when I pass through

You've seen the news, no joke, New York pig department will blast you

My Weathermen party is invite only, soldier

'Cause with one wave of King G. Dub's scepter it's over

The right to assemble puts the bearous team on you

Look into my file and nod to this while Jello screams on you

By our efforts we have lit a fire in the minds of men

It warms those who feel it's power, it burns those who fight it's progress

And one day this untamed fire of freedom will reach the darkest corners of our world

It is the policy of the United States to seek and support the growth

Of democratic movements and institutions in every nature and culture

With the ultimate goal of ending tyranny in our world

Except right here at home! Hee-hee-hee-hee!

Yee-Haw!

Don't mess with Texas!,Don't mess with Texas!

Don't mess with Texas!,Don't mess with Texas!

Connie... Connie, give me some pretzels

Mommy, mommy, give me that bible

Give me that bible with the pages cut out and it got that cocaine in it

C'mon, c'mon, don't mess with Texas! ( Snorting sounds )

I'll fuck anything that moves!

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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 6:05 PM | Message # 12

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[Cage]
Beer cans and cigarette butts cover the floor day
Half gone, he sleeps scared pregnant teen in the doorway
Watching him sleep clutchin' her belly, little feet kick
to send the teen back to the toilet, spent her last week sick
when little Billy feed her ground up Jesus powder
would've beat her louder if it would've pushed the fetus out of her
Father in the making, crooked M.P. forsaken
The military cop that sells H to bring his cake in
She shaking, praying her labor kicks in before
The doors kicked in for them brown bricks on the floor
I mean, she could tell you exactly how the gutter taste
Father to her kid in custody right when her water breaks
Snitched on his compadres for a few more runs
And the irony in giving a stuffed rat to his newborn son
Dishonorably discharged, no jail time in court
Told to pack his family up and go the fuck back to New York

[Chorus]
Fuck Bill Murray, not the actor, the deadbeat dad the smacked
then left her with rats after he snapped her
The bastard inventor that bent her backwards in winter
with her back against the wall, she can hear death singing in her
With her back against the wall, she still head death singing in her

[Cage]
She's scared to leave him, convinced somehow she really needs him
Back in New York her prison of pain and Billy's freedom
Holdin' her baby, he'd say crazy shit to break her
When she fell asleep, he'd escape her wits end and wouldn't wake her
He'd sneak out the wallo in it role model to shit
That put his Christian scientist father in debt
Gave him his first stroke, he refused his medication
'Cause it went against his religion, he'd rather his lord take him
Through stroke number two and start withering his flesh
Then lay the emaciated world ware two veteran to rest
Left his family debt turmoil and wreckage
And his grandson to scatter his ash over the U.S. Intrepid
Then little Billy plummets to his knees, still numb from it
Held his kid by the arm with a shotgun to his stomach
When threats to destroy what he created get tucked away
when he looks in his son's face to see he might grow up to say

[Chorus]

[Cage]
Needle through the skin again, inject the rust and cinnamon
Pull off the tourniquet, load up the shotgun and sentence him
He knows that there's a bed in hell waitin for him
But he aint been sane since he started huffin chloroform
WIth his shit decorum, he lets off shots the neighbors say shooters
Into the phone to Middletown police and state troopers
While every family member on th premises runs from death
Greeted by dozens of officers with guns and vests
His suicide by cop sweater on get low
Is told to the crowd watching him shoot thru the window
His son clutched in his mother's arms, unaware it's the end
They bring him out in handcuffs but never to be seen again

[Chorus]

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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 6:07 PM | Message # 13

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One last vein to poke made it too dark to see this
Scenery slips then line up to go in the ground and leave us
So repeat this till I'm sick and I won't feed this
To my little girl who kept me in this world to beat this
As a little kid taught to follow Jesus
Get to the front of the line I'm bein' lead by elitists
So when I speak words that I don't mean
It's like I'm only in a cloud to wonder what serene is
Unable to wake and delete the reasons
Or be the same bed I made up to sleep with demons
Whether sick sane of a pattern repeated
If I spit pain I knew how to relieve it
If at sixteen I had started to treat it
Till my shit changed whether or not I would need it
To trace back to the face before the fetus
If the departure was wrong from the gate then she is

Trigger finger itch
The son of a snitch
I'm the rat's favorite son
Last to pal and cut
Slit to bleed the rust
By the last heart I've won
We roll under covers waiting
I've tied off a limb debating
If all of the names forsaken
Spell out what I'm takin'
Watching the skin pop
I would do anything to
Tell you what I've been late to
Fix up my head and escape to
Where I can rest my eyes

The sun says wake up with a beam in my eyes
Clutchin' the bed like she's still by my side part of me died
Even when I prescribed still just to be ostracized
'Cuz she don't really know if she wants to ride or drive
While no nooses long enough to hang my excuses
Whether I'm dead, gun to my head, or reclusive
The end is close almost no need for money
Yet when I wished for death nobody took my life from me
If I cannot see what's right in front of me
And the lights on there still wouldn't be enough to leave
I fixed me when I broke the aggression
But I'm still attracted to my beautiful depression
If I felt emotions I learned to suppress 'em
Till I'm ready to sleep I'll have found a place to rest then
No thanks to angst I learned my lesson
And can erase the face that can't answer the questions

Trigger finger itch the son of a snitch
I'm the rat's favorite son
And by the time I'm back
That heart that beats so black
Let it shine like his gun
We roll under covers waiting
I've tied off a limb debating
If all of the names forsaken
Spell out what I'm taking
Watching the skin pop

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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 6:09 PM | Message # 14

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Boner-Jamz-11 Date: Saturday, 01/Aug/09, 6:10 PM | Message # 15

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Somethin' in the way not for Dr. Zummer

Hot the tumor in the lugee and left it in Montezuma

Swam back to the US after Russian roulette

No deal on the table give me a label to suplex

Came to fill them with pain, take a print of my brain

Flash it on the screen you wont leave the Cinema sane

Had a followin' fondlin' that wouldn't let go

'Till I spiked the easy football into the Def Jux end zone

And when it hit the grass it covered the crowd with mud

Mom slipped my bare-ass out, I covered the ground with blood

Then she wiped it on my face like war paint

Then slapped me, I cry, might die with a hardcore brain

Cracked the doors frame when I open the world around it

Exhale the hinges in the air where denounces

My [?] bounces of the wall, then it rise from

The picture that it painted like suicide with a shotgun

I'm tryin' to pick up the pieces

Keep cuttin' my hands

When I put it back together, it's feces

In a permanent Hell I find tranquility teaches

We had to design perfect mass for our new Preacher

We're going too far, nobody could reach us

I'm startin' to drown and I'm covered with leeches

Until my last breath they'll be screamin' from the bleachers

Then I'll be dead like all my teachers

Despite all my rage, I'm a rat in a cage for skies

Communicate your love injecting bleach in my eyes

The dubiously demented dented to dependant cradles

Slipped through a grasp on the broken glass, highly unstable

I left that label unable to keep my master's

No whip, broke as shit, chick left me a week after

Over-dosage of mushrooms, no ugly obstacles

Hid the hamster boy record scene dance at the hospital

In the club I don't dance, I stand with a glass of Vodka

Come to terms, I'm just like my bastard Father

Left my Mother with a kid that flipped her lid

When I started to look like him, she threw me out the crib

And I was only two, my Grandmother was a Hitler Jew

Just dropped Agent Orange and aint got no dough to fix this tooth

I'm thinkin' out loud "I hate life" like that matters

Lettin' shit out that happened to fit into wack pattern

I'm tryin' to pick up the pieces

Keep cuttin' my hands

When I put it back together, it's feces

In a permanent Hell I find tranquility teaches

We had to design perfect mass for our new Preacher

We're going too far, nobody could reach us

I'm startin' to drown and I'm covered with leeches

Until my last breath they'll be screamin' from the bleachers

Then I'll be dead like all my teachers

I'm tryin' to pick up the pieces

But each motherfucker that fucked my Mother over would leave me to be this

Drug addicted menace, aint shit to do in this place

No longer flinchin' from Step-dad's punches to the face

Blind to the drug, calm to the tub

Filled to the top with warm water to sink in

Two arms full of blood

Not even thirteen, lookin' to exit, left for mess

Could care less about life, just keep my pool as fresh

Until the worms eat my flesh I guess they better burn me

These are the thoughts of a child I keep 'till thirty

I lack patience 'till I was packed with patients

In the mental facility forced on all the wrong medications

Prozac genie pig, I don't feel bipolar

But got a folder that claims I am in a stack that reaches my shoulder

Music, my only savior in every instance

Makes each one of you a prophet to my existence

I'm tryin' to pick up the pieces

Keep cuttin' my hands

When I put it back together, it's feces

In a permanent Hell I find tranquility teaches

We had to design perfect mass for our new Preacher

We're going too far, nobody could reach us

I'm startin' to drown and I'm covered with leeches

Until my last breath they'll be screamin' from the bleachers

Then I'll be dead like all my teachers

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