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
Viewing: Short Fuze - View all posts
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
Hills
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
Art Dealers
My life's candor
gets trapped in life patterns
wrapped in mics rapture
remain my pen master
art dealer, street pastor
ink anger bleed after
sleep in the minds of strangers
then dream after
light cannabis to green pastures
draw nightmares between screams, laughter
breed factors for change
engage in episodes of the strange
that enslave the plane for advancement
supply paint for grand standing
living on a pixelated earth
encased in bad graphics, craft magic
beliefs of dominance creeped in opulence scenic profit binge
ending hollow trends wearing graffiti on my skin
drums of war escalate sonic bids
mindful within, prideful within
to reflect psycho revenge
penning bars from hard marble
Frida Kahlo scarred sorrow
bangin street art like there’s no tomorrow
Unusual
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
FOR ALL YOU SUCKAS!
Miracles
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
Arrogant
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
Substance
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
SELLS
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
Killer
I don’t cry when cops die
but you never ask why
blue lives matter is a lie
another sign of oppression
disconnected from protection and service
blue lights still make me nervous
is this going to be my last breath
sick of black death
and the same old stories
turned into blood orgies
a bullet in our head, now you’re sorry
all of sudden it’s some sort of allegory
stuck in the doesn’t happen category
if I show resistance
I’m complicit in non compliance
deserving of the violence
it ain’t science
cops exercise their right
to keep us silent
they wonder why we riot
we’re dying on this non freedom diet
White America wouldn’t dare try it
now you know why I’m crying
grieving for lost souls
in nightmares underneath my eyelids
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