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Me And My Demons 

Lamon said write a kama sutra 
of pizza eating positions 
back went out again, vicious 
got nothing to go on but intuition 
outliving God so I have the last sentence 
fuck a last word, pen burns hallucinogenic 
words so prophetic, after it’s over 
me and the heavens became telekinetic 
forever indebted to my indexes 
visions of my grandmother injecting medicine 
screaming protect your melanin 
jail cellin’ it, spiritual celibate 
death bed ridden sin 
loving the pain my soul was written in 
bathing in tears my heart is sitting in 
expressing my rage through rekindled pens until my end 
transcend doldrums pumped in brain stems 
falling in love with my shot gun limp 
from the land of marks and pimps 
selling my story with a sharkish grin 

Just me and my demons (yeah) 
Get on down, get on down 
Just me and my demons (yeah) 
Get on down, get on down 
Just me and my demons (yeah) 
Get on down, get on down 
Just me and my demons (yeah)

Multi syllabic christenings 
school of Raebonics for the win 
spitting blood against the wind 
searching for the fire within 
Autonomy Music spins within A Trains 
into Manhattan, Fantastic Damage 
padded for the pain junkies and addicts 
hiding from sunlight, crying in the mattress 
Air Maxes, fire and matches 
matches the desire to pull ourselves higher 
black and brown sires ripped from their thrones 
souls spun through the globe 
as their identity is bled from their throats 
guns in the overcoat 
collecting souls for the ghosts 
starting wars from the money post 
PTSD from the concrete rose, 
I arose to new heights, fight or flight 
back packing with my demons 
in the dead of night, out of sight 
living this life, living this life

Scope Of The Guillotine 

I only rocked Blackhawk jerseys for the trash talk 
brash walk, machetes and hack saws 
I never gave a fuck about Stanley Cups 
duck bullets that blew death kisses 
breath hinges on hisses, then misses 
shape shiftin’, change pitches 
blades kill some 
while others inhale gun smoke 
in Deadpool’s like Wade Wilson 
Guillotine got its seeds 
from Company Flow & EPMD 
we are the lineage others pretend to be 
blood on the crown with the head 
as the center piece 
bars bang like a dusted car chase 
when Angel took a chainsaw 
to the head in Scarface 
linguistics are gangster scientific 
end your career in a New York minute 
going for the finish 
to be amongst the greatest ever listed 
from Chitown to SINY 
in the end I leave your neck severed 
screaming Wu Tang Forever 
injected with the blood of legends

They Can't Kill Us All  

I’m just pieces of a broken man 
from a broken system and broken land 
smoking aces, fired from a potent hand 
quoted love songs from an open land 
fighting what this world has come to 
lightning striking quick because fate 
it wants to love you from its bubble 
saving me from drowning and going under 
frozen winters turned to focused summers 
hopeless visions cloaked in hope is 
peeling back emotions through hosted muses 
smelling roses, my mind is lighting fuses igniting fighting music 
auto pilot driving lucid to my life’s conclusion 
thankful for feeling movement 
forgiving God for being mostly ruthless 
besides my daughter and a few others 
it’s mostly putrid 
stolen moments laying in my death bed fearless 
with the reaper as my kindred spirit 
no matter what stand tall 
because they can’t kill us all

Horseman Armor 

I wear my scars as armor 
a product of bars and smoke parlors 
tattoos reflect sin of a martyr 
daily me and god bartered 
on whether or not 
I should fold or walk harder 
born under Carter, my era was made famous 
by the pain Reagan painted 
feeling shamed and caged in 
the streets were a haven 
moving through slums searching for crumbs 
a genetic dump my limp said 
I was too young to walk with shotgun pumps 
Mexican born, I held a crown of thorns 
feeling the scorn of not speaking Spanish 
I gravitated to hip hop and black kids 
they understood and made my pain vanish 
being included in the movement 
made me feel super human 
it gave me protection from having my weakness dissected 
words I projected became representation 
for the anger and anguish 
felt by my neighborhood nation 
wishing I could save them all 
with peace and salvation

Bare Hands 

Moving through conspiracies and ultra violence 
dampen culture and science 
the vultures are non compliant 
human rights became defiant 
love, labor screams inside the echo chamber 
boiling over with anger, what’s the angle? 
anti mask, anti black, anti vaccine 
more blood streams flood the streets 
no justice, no peace, no compassion 
tear gas quells the action, no reaction 
attacked with lies and fake news 
life and freedom, this is take two 
history will know where to place you 
make peace with the Gods you pray to 
time will erase you 
I’m from where the just and fair stands 
I will forever destroy your hate with my bare hands

Now They Know It 

Sit back, watch the paranoia overtake 
can’t shake these god damn shakes 
bitten by the snakes 
feel the venom raise the stakes 
skate around the stench of death 
clutching my last breath 
is this my end? 
friends stab me in the back 
they didn’t think my soul would stand 
lost women who claimed to be a catch 
afraid to react when my heart attacked 
expect me to pick you up 
when your emotions crashed 
a hopeless mass, broken stash, open cash 
I hope it lasts, frozen raps 
rolling with homies that know the truth 
killing rappers in the vocal booth 
speaking in coded roots 
Guillotine heads rolling through 
watch me bestow it 
I know it, but now they know I know it

Patient King 

Woke up to a new era 
welcome to the terror dome 
where nuclear winter burn slow 
give up your dough 
and everything you own 
here's a toast for gambling with your soul 
politics play out over newscast and television shows 
bagging up hatred and selling it as dope 
trading melanin for hope 
choking on elements of rope 
hold my smoke 
while I calibrate this scope 
center rage 
better aim 
enter fame 
letters played for the revolution 
nothing's conclusive 
protect one another 
they got the guns 
we got the numbers 
looks like we're in for another hot summer

Tape Deck 

Soldier of rap culture 
hills to die on 
kill these slang vultures 
bullet holes and lipstick 
arraign my framed poster 
tight around loose lips 
fuck a flag 
my moods gripped by quarantined vibes 
serpentine wind through the minds grind 
as the lines dry like the blood of my pen died 
speak to dominant dreamers 
Mexican brown reefer 
as my new leader, Infinity stone seizure 
cinematic vision as my dome pleaser 
Guillotine is so ether 
your souls can’t reach us 
like leper’s who need Jesus 
let my name reign for all seasons


Push the envelope 
swing the pendulum 
pens coated in adamantium 
weapon x survivor 
making my walk through hell fire 
all the more liver 
got god reclined in the clutch of Scott Steiner 
Guillotine Scream Phoenix 
my cannibal ox fiendish through all season’s 
sick of blood in the streets, it ain’t scenic 
shatter the glass ceiling, pick up the pieces 
slash the throats of my demons 
as a beacon of hope, slow to a slow coast 
admire the pictures I painted over the years 
facing my ears, fighting back tears 
siphoning fears into gasoline speeches 
to rattle these leeches 
kill your masters and embody new leaders 
watch their words burn into the ether 
mess with my family, you’re greeted with 
red dots, heat seekers and cleavers 
pumped with holes until your body seizures 
meet earth, buried in my hills to die on 
Ghostface killing it, face covered in nylon

The Product 

Ignorance makes me want to leave Twitter 
shutdown the whole system 
and let the rhythm hit ‘em 
surrounded by absurd turns 
the world burns in the viral surge 
some white kid threads the needle 
with N words claiming that he’s equal 
connections with people is illusion 
cruising the echo chamber for bangers 
dodging anger from wannabe stars 
falling in love with avatars 
experience marred from false hope 
cerebral dope, non matching GOATS 
and cut throat facts, sit back, 
to watch people react 
to hot trash takes from newscasts 
like the world is full of iconoclasts 
bask in my lineage of underground rap 
digital dap and thirst traps 
grab the burner 
Guillotines crashed the server 
shoutout to Dart Adams and Hex Murda


It’s the summer of ‘94 
hit the F&M store, looking for a score 
Maxell chrome tapes, post haste 
but I’m broke and got no papes 
in for the slow burn 
with hopes of no chase, move at a slow pace 
case the joint with my cousins 
scenario one when you got no budget 
fuck it, they take one aisle, I take the other 
my brother as look out as the runner 
don’t get caught, no going under 
scared of our mothers, not doing numbers 
heat had us feeling like new lovers 
ducking cameras like the two man cover 
move with the stealth I could muster 
so my demo tapes had that luster 
fuck these security guard busters 


The further in life I get 
the less I remember 
looking to legends and mentors 
as my protector, peep the lecture 
take their gems and make em’ fresher 
feel the pressure, on a bender 
cuts to the bloody center 
billed for services rendered 
runnin’ jewels like Michael Render 
here’s where hope enters 
women popping over chrome fenders, 
dough catcher 
the window for success is so slender 
many won’t enter, world ender 
shot to your widows peak, the future’s bleak 
hear my speech at the epicenter 
Guillotine heavy weight contenders 
fate always remembers 
Heaven never was a lender 
she always comes for the cheddar 
keep 36 Chambers loaded like RZArector 
wake up to the sun’s glimmer 
sipping coffee from French pressers, 
penning letters

Rebel Crowns 

Blocks, gats and raps 
ducking thirst traps 
kids, cats and raps, a new path 
Time had its hands around my neck 
claustrophobic breathe 
reflect on my gang days 
I was Flavor Flav with a 12 gauge 
masking the pain in a purple haze 
looking to get my art framed 
in the minds or galleries 
trading in the corner for salary 
which life was lived more valiantly? 
electricity at my fingertips like Palpatine 
paces stream free when your value’s freed 
speech feeds seeds, whether it’s lyrics 
or knowledge of the spirit 
most don’t have their words cherished 
until after they’re dead or perished 
its why I’m mic doc’n like Erick and Parrish 
dreaming of money in back packs 
floating through Paris earning my merit 
me and my daughter 
share the same wild crocodile smile 
keeping you a blade tip away from exile 
broken rhythms with women 
keeps filling up my ex files

Gateway Drug 

Bare my souls grace 
burn green to probe space post haste 
showin' God my smoke face 
stoned pain breaks the choke chain 
blown brain, toned bass, explode rage 
problematic ashes 
burn your house of cards 
to expose the magic, tapped in 
the 2nd Latin rapper 
to leave your skull baffled 
bones shattered, automatic closed casket 
fast lane, I've blown past it with no manners
broke bastard to so lavish 
toed tragic, exposed passage 
radiated flow savage, fantastic damage 
pragmatic cult classic 
toe taggin' stolen masses 
spit gasses, soaking matches 
when hope passes 
til then I'm killin' masters with chrome hammers

Notebook Sickness  

Down a couple of shots and beers 
fear liquidates my tears 
what am I doing here? 
should I be armed to the teeth, warfare

dreams remove evidence of elements 
that protected youthful resemblance

reminisce about the decade of decadents

sick of riding the bench 

next to the stench of death 
this is my last hit, short of breath 
paranoia extorts cops hunting for sport 
another pull off the Newport 
societies reflection is fact that doom implores 
what you think the movements for? 
distort dissection of past transgressions

cap aggression Smith and Wesson 
packed with lessons 
genocide always intended 
swept under the rug no mention 
unless levied as leverage 
jettison political medicine 
devastation, end game declaration 
final move cultural castration

Grown Up Rap 

I’m broken, damaged 
rocking Sean P the savage 
pen ink the automatic package 
distracted from empty fridges 
mental sickness reaching all types of frigid 
sleep with sinners fight the emotional winter 
cold broke, no soap, roaches, rats, 
dead love, ducking lead slugs 
off with my head 
Wastelands back from the dead 
rewind selector, lyrics measured 
born from conjecture 
cock the the lever 
bullet to your dentures, unpause the rebel 
my life is mental film stock, dead stock 
America First code for oppression 
protesting in the streets disconnected 
hands up don’t shoot 
I can’t breathe either 
watching these pigs kill off American dreamers


I awoke from a winter slumber 
waiting on my ticket to hell’s hot summer 
pen with the hustle of gunners 
swing the lumber 
and watch the fear of god man handle you 
illustrate the violence from my mandible 
for sinners sake 
put the content of my mind on a dinner plate 
watch the world eat it up 
like Hannibal the cannibal 
shots cracking your clavicle, so masterful 
pictures painted from anguish 
makin’ my language nickel plated 
look in the mirror 
filled with anger and hatred 
testing my patience 
my arrogance is so blatant 
Windy City in my blood 
lovin’ my cadence 
get out of my business 
unless you’re running with payments 
I’m so shameless

Rich Sinners 

Started moving weed in the 10th grade 
to create my own legendary template 
flirted with the drug game 
when the homies said I’m next 
time to graduate to the Pyrex 
scared to move up from the dime flex 
after pushing a key under sunny days 
moving plenty ways after copping 20k 
riding the money wave 
burn the wire as the pinnacle of sires 
and I ain’t talking about God or Jesus 
Vice Lords riding coupes on leases 
packing heaters dodging felonies 
and misdemeanors 
became a different dreamer 
when I got locked 
during the summer of Ether 
fucking hood rats rocking Jordan’s and Fila's 


Frolic in the depths of knowledge 
the clock is the heart of life 
thinking mundane as seconds tick through one vein 
minutes are blood flowing one way 
emotions stab at my watch 
now I got nothing but time on my hands 
bland lifestyles turn heads toward the promise land 
media used as contraband 
children running the streets in undergarments 
immigrants struggle with the dollar 
getting the American dream started working as INS targets 
while their sons move weed, dodging misdemeanor charges 
martyred militants claiming I God 
making me guilty of spiritual conviction 
visions of guns with violent motion 
followed by coffins locked and closed in 
hugs and roses, drugs in heavy doses 
blunts roasting when memories are toasted 
done choking, lying to my own psychosis 
emerging from the smoke uncloaked 
with my pen as the staff of Moses 
hoping to free loved ones

to live life the way destiny wrote it 
beyond the way history told it, molded from Augury’s omens 
caught in Lucifer's notion, birthed in pyramids 
underneath each brick is 26 alpha numerics
words of wisdom glitch in the system, uncaged from the matrix 
my physical still held down by gravity 
making me a victim of my own tragedies 
constantly attacking the man in me

If my thoughts were beings on other planets 
engaged in Star Wars, claiming Vice Lord 
would they throw up endorphins? 
took the game and morphed it 
with resident evil kneivel cerebral cortex 
sold my way to drop top Porsche’s 
Seasons Change got 5 mics in The Source and 
I got women with breasts perky and gorgeous

like Halle Berry in Swordfish calling me papi 
triple platinum probably, this song features Ja Rule and Ashanti 
my fan base just multiples then 
getting your undivided attention was my intention 
fuck the previously mentioned, birth earth lessons 
banging straight out the box like vaginal prosthetics 
focus shifts to scribing a magnum opus with such magnum force 
I’m forced back to the closet rocking back and forth 
eating strange fruit with the spirit of Aaliyah 
telling me my soulmate is more than a woman 
moving to a glimmer of suicide in my left eye 
if I used a 45 to blow my own mind 
would I be amongst the greatest of all time 
transforming optimum rhymes to collide with Optimus Prime 
making me a semi truck

speak divine righteousness it exists in my lungs 
money stuns the populous into dicking over god 
like a hermaphrodite Israelite masturbating in the face of Christ 
what I write is a danger to my group, soon to go solo 
a living version of Public Enemy’s logo 
combat politics more crooked than Debo’s eye 
making the system collapse quicker than Hank Gathers at the half court line

Strung Out 

Once commanded a literal understanding 
of commandment tablets and Quran fragments 
making my mathematics tantric 
wasn’t baptized so I couldn’t claim Christ as the savior of my life 
hated the fact he turned water into wine 
because wine became water to my father 
He beat me, my brother and my grandmother’s daughter 
as he led his lambs to the slaughter 
three souls drowned in the thoughts of the brain washer 
making it harder to believe Heaven was branded beyond the granite 
church made me pay to search for the creator of earth 
they turned religion into a system of pimpin’ 
watching angels back handing planets knocking my world off it’s axis 
true meanings unmasked 
teachings we believe in written by a drunken heathen 
known as the king of England 
plights of Israelites partially removed due to so-called moments of clarity 
now known as Hebrews we knew only to seize the moment 
making anything before us ancient, the future adjacent 
complacent with struggles of previous generations 
denying the enslavement of entire populations 
Black men confined to join a nation 
telling me god is a fragment of my imagination 
because the man who created him was pagan, lacking pigmentation 
millions became Malcolm Little reading behind dictionary pages 
spiritualization treated as pussy so we could face it 
still I’m Max from Pi, drilling holes in my brain 
to relieve frustration of not deciphering 216 character equations

Black Monday 

Rap went commercial 
when will it return to program? 
nomads become cliche within themselves 
as more become product on the shelves 
I lay between urban decay and suburbia 
society giving my mind a hernia 
troubled youth shackled by George W 
so I smuggle truth into entertainment 
the battle for my allegiance 
began when my bloodline was pillaged by Spaniards, who’s my savior? 
eyed by enemies a genetic failure 
inches from inquisition 
commissioned to seek retribution for the movement 
until Ras’ tooth pick is saluted 
diluted brainwaves become seismic 
enriched with stolen jewels of Osiris 
snatched off the belt of Orion 
I emerged on the horizon 
resting on the dark side of the sun 
came with 4 Horsemen disguised as Nimrods portrait 
birthed dormant in the earth’s uterus 
moving through universes with verses to versus 
the version of the person I am and will be 
photograph my shadow, I’m still me 
kill me by electric chair on a Friday 
mourn me on a Saturday 
bury me under moonlight on a Sunday 
all because 6/18/79 was a Black Monday


Push beyond 3rd millennium 
triple optic adamantium, ink 5th pentium 
dream theme music, bent on dominance 
30lb magnets amplify my subconscious mind 
baptized in stigmata’s bloodline 
selling my spritualization, education, lyricism , liberation 
which was a mixture of alcohol and a naive fifteen year old 
don’t hold dicks like a lesbian chick who can’t make a fist 
lip balms, spit psalms as blood drips from my slit palms 
cut with the sword of Islam 
so my genetic code is told through every musical mold 
men trading products of their semen to keep their pockets creamin’ 
death for treason, forever speaking artistic languages 
voice of slaves shackled in chains and whips 
yet the same chase chains and whips 
cane and chips, fame and tits 
what part of the game is this? 
all the dick of Pac and Big 
what, you forgot about Ra and KRS dismantling ample men 
before Jay and Nas started batting? 
been sniffing too much Ether 
wish I could marry wack MC’s 
so I become a wife beater 
waking hip hop from its epileptic seizure

God Save Us From The Devil  

God body in the human spirit 
altercations and penning lyrics made you fearless 
pain and anger love to be your muse 
bullet riddled bodies still in view 
frustration and hatred in the queue, let it stew 
your city’s dying, what to do? 
gold plated dreams and dirty faith 
dapping up friends with empty face 
kids disappear without a trace 
I’m supposed to wait for the Bible quote to save the day, let us pray what a waste 
drowning in the chase screaming into space leaning into taste 
heathens in their place, demons in my face 
Jesus on the case 
easing on the weight rolling off my back 
holding on the mask, exposing all the mass 
trolling off the tracks, floating through the cracks 
frozen all the rats, posing in the traps 
closed in heart attacks, popping off the gats 
holding off the threats, walking on the net 
closing off my breath 
oppression architects cashing all the checks 
the devils silhouette 
please release the rest 
therein lies the fucking disconnect

Live From Inner Thought 

Sometimes I just want to 
do drugs and drink 
it's too hard to think 
madness on the brink 
the missing link 
skeletons emerge from the closet 
brain celibate dancing the devils mosh pit 
John Malkovich with a gun to my head 
in the cockpit 
counting down the clock ticks 
rain pours to wash away the toxins 
not knowing who God is 
grew up catholic chilling with convicts 
learning the block pitch 
dealers cutting up the drop ship 
definition of context 
money knots swelling up my pockets 
running from the darkness 
bullet proof dodging the glock kiss 
38 in the game of life still a novice 
verbalizing my written correspondence 
live from inner thought 
dead man walking amongst lost prophets 
backed in a corner running out of options


Happy new year depression 
it’s just me and you again 
finding new ways to explore the connection 
generosity what is it? 
is it mom cooking for strangers in the kitchen? 
is it one day without pain and sickness?
fighting to survive the new version of mankind 
working full time struggling to pay my bills, popping pills, faith kills 
went from heavy thinker to heavy drinker 
once again on the brink of suicide 
darkness paints realms inside my mind 
violent by design unless I find something to supplement my next high 
fighting time, struggling to stay alive 
back to the point I don’t believe there’s a god 
don’t you think that’s kind of odd 
since I’ve spent years talking about the strength of our bond? 
gone baby gone is the illusion of freedom of expression 
making America great again 
through systematic oppression 
arrogance stopped us from taking heed to previous lessons 
ostrich heads buried in the sand 
until the epidemic scurried in the hands of those not affected 
murders of my people where considered clandestine 
until cellphones popped the pandemic 
finally did America believe these klans meant it 
generations lusting off the blood fetish 
cultural appropriation took away our one weapon 
well, I got my guns loaded come get it 
let the bullets fly 
I love my people, bear witness 
I won’t stop until we’re cured of the sickness 
and the oppressors recognize our image