1. |
On the Back Half
02:20
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[Verse 1]
6:30 in the morning, coffee’s looking like black milk
No poison in paradise, body’s covered in fat quilts
Woke up next to a dime who’s probably sleeping way past twelve
From a different realm, our fucking beauty cold cast spells
Greet the sluggish sun on its way to work
Shiny skin’s a passive buff they want to take the day to learn
Past that, been drumming up a lovable classic for fun
Hazy blur ‘til she smacks me with the ravishing hammer of love
Robe made of rose petals, thorny prick underneath
Reluctant détente with the chit-chat and the frivolous speech
But lay a chef’s-kiss soliloquy on the beat
Keep your claws out of my middling reach
Early-rising e-girl with a struggle beard
Call me breathtaking, papi’s not what I wanna hear
Smooth to the touch, clothes smelling like bergamot
As soon as it hits noon, shit, I might stir the pot
[Chorus]
Child of the sun, grew up in the AM
Make ‘em run, run, run ‘til the day ends
Let them stop, watching me one time
Child of the sun, pop, pop in the sunshine
[Verse 2]
Misconceived as bitter; texture in the eyes is lime marmalade
Pardon the glow, blinding, but drown in envy as soon as you start to gaze
The little green pill matches the iris
Kickstarting his fucking highness
Reckless driving in a car that isn’t mine
If the cops get me in a bind, then I’m Mr. Mime
Hit the vanish switch and lap the pissed and frazzled little swines
In a flashy fit to match the dingy whip I sit inside
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
Wearing gold satin for fun around you late-sleepers in Gap vests
Even let the lagging world see my existence early-access
Elusive when the clock hands shake
Didn’t even leave a trace on MapQuest
Dropping pins just to break the seal
Pulling out stitches of time, I had to make a deal
Living in the amber hue of dawn every minute
But I sacrificed emotions that I guess I’ll have to wait to feel
Shit
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2. |
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[Verse 1: DEADPAN]
Do they love me, do they not?
Weight could tip the shoulders, go above to tie the knot
Wringing out the holiness, rosaries pop
Stop condoning the cops roaming the block
Feeling bolder for rolling in stones and rocks
Ambivalent to ICE ‘cause your kid isn’t living in fright
In the middle of the night gripping my gripes
Dripping in vices, plight is frivolous prices
Left to little devices
Fighting with the flight attendant while I write amendments just to heighten tensions
I’m a strike-supporting, life-shortening, class-warfare-inciting organizer-slash-rapper who doesn’t like attention, boring
Metal tips on the stacked bricks, tattooed, screeching
ACAB gleaming, Conan-watchers weeping
Stroll away, earbuds AKAI SOLO
Street thesis bleeding, beaming
[Verse 2: Shaskuh & DEADPAN]
Celebrate the life I live but my nights dreamless
Getting right with this spliff
Believe me I hate being depressed, but, shit, I’m in Jersey
Mercury elements serve me (breathe ‘em in)
Cataclysms start to unfold, let’s make a toast
Bombay in the cauldron, hit the high note
My ginseng Arizona
Then rob a four mix and Jack with Cherry Cola
Memory hazy, wildflower pushing up daisies
My accolades never getting reinstated
You like it, we made it
Coconut oil in the basement
I don’t think, just listen
At the kitchen sink, soda mix made it glisten
Fuck your conceptions
I get home with the flask empty
Survive with no directions, precious
That your little styles be contending for the trending
We represent the opposite of cold-blooded engines
Government control through material retention
DEADPAN and Shalashaska coming with a vengeance
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3. |
CODICES
01:46
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It’s not the grind, you inherited a ripsaw
Chugging through your slick-talk bubble that my fists pop
With your rickshaw lugging you around
Drowning in miscalled numbers on your wristwatch
To you, all necessities are purely accoutrements
How ‘bout you start a settlement of actually doing shit
I’m catching on quick; you’re John Vukovich
Gene accrual’s fortuitous
Calloused, Brown hands are a stain on my lineage supposedly
But they stamp the sepia hue on my codices
That explain that the filial arrangements determine what you’ll grow to be
Like a Stakhanovite; limited toolbelt
Sitting with a pot of rice and figure the spoon fell
Stir but nothing sticks; the furniture is fixed
Hollow condoms are your proper price
Stalagmite process; there’s not a lot of time
Felt pads crash into the flop and slip
Stop skittish polishing it isn’t right
Can’t pick a lot of fights; quiverfull plight, shot the knife
Litter is expansive, tell me
Who else is gonna live inside that motherfucking mansion?
Bad cop, worse cop, mea culpa
When the stone rolls out, the weakness shows up
And you call yourself a seasoned sculptor?
Paintbrush, no chisel, keep the brooch tucked
Pulsates when the jig is up
You expect me to take off time just ‘cause the wing is plucked?
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4. |
84 PLOTS
03:20
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[Verse 1]
There he goes again, serotonin coma at the sunrise
Seek siestas as soon as I’m slipping out of shuteye
Rupert Murdoch seeping right through the crushed blinds
Living life in fun-size
Ensimismado, indefinite pause
Solitary pea in the pod, grind between facades
Tech-Decking the law; fucking fellowship talk
Protected, but never settled the second I step in the hall
Very enthralled
Season’s greetings to punctual focal seizures
Cut to the break; assess the wreckage when the photo is cleaner
Crumbled abodes underneath heavy eyelids
Stains stick on the pearliest white kicks
Only look down when the fright hits
Sky pitch-back by five
Paint chipped, might trip
Bleak buzzer blared the fucking minute the light dipped
[Chorus]
Spent the whole summer on lockdown
Only holed-up house on the block now
Spent the whole summer on lockdown
Wishing that these murdered-out winter clothes could block sound, yeah
Spent the whole summer on lockdown
Only holed-up house on the block now
Spent the whole summer on lockdown
Wishing that these murdered-out winter clothes could block sound
[Verse 2]
Shaky, quaint cottage; peers are playing house in the antebellum south
Derelict petting grounds; based on the questionable setting
Submitting my ecru complexion as a gown
With a gossamer film that gets the kids to cut the exposition down
The spring breeze shreds my paper skin on the first of the month
Perfect patterns pat the puny plot from which my purpose sprung
Tournament luck set the scheme so our corrosive germs wouldn’t touch
Do your diligent service and shut the fuck up
Your suck puppet thread count is probably through the roof
Engendered in those military boots
Stuck in between a lonely rut and a clueless crew
They’re nuke boosting while I lose the coup and flew the coop
[Outro]
My family crest is branded stern on my bird chest
Grief forced a bated strain on my first breath
The dirge is my theme song
Expressionless look when the dust settled on my first steps
(x2)
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5. |
Leaving Traces
02:37
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[Verse 1]
Living with this shit so consistent in my history; don’t tell me, “read a primary source”
Withhold quibbles, I’m a scribe of the physical world
Little remorse while commissioning a missing-from-the-library lore
Walk the route; nom de plume on the back of the sign
Illicit rendezvous; split, clapped with a fine
Adjudicating fractal designs, crime with the mop tip
For sweeping under the rugged written test
Fork in the scaffolding, bludgeon it ‘til it’s picaresque
Well-intentioned pupils and understudies to intercept
Savants lit my rebuttal up with a cigarette
Bankteller asks me why I have to pre-write my own signature
Not used to the government tags
But fluent in arcane symbols and sketching out integers
Can’t build this tradition orally
Word of mouth is the perfect sound for the kill switch from the authority
Keep account of my faint existence folklorically
Tunnel vision on the etched-in blemishes, you know it’s not the only way to look though
Tryna flesh out the subaltern world by embellishing the sterile with my footnotes
[Verse 2]
Skin-punching needle much to their chagrin
Stuck with the locksmith
Threads of decrepit records chucked in the dustbin
Rocks kicking little tops drilling mosh pits, but
Wrinkled flesh with the cobwebs wrapped, so it’s pulled tight
Black and blanco fades to green and mestizo
Chop an arboretum up with a dull knife
What do those tattoos really mean to you?
Did you read my rigor mortis forehead yet?
Torso’s a Rorschach Test
Fresh blood, I bore that crest
From a historical perspective, corporal permanence is rigid format’s death
Rest in corrupted coating; picked off the only living Lorax left
[Outro]
Let the wretched relics drench me from my head to my toes
There’s not a speck of respectable ways
Walking barbarity etched into stone
(x2)
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6. |
WOKE BABY BOY
02:57
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[Verse 1]
If you wanna visit John McCain’s grave, then you’ll have to wash my piss off
Short shorts, nail polish, and some lip balm
Fist balled, yelling at a brick wall
Old-heads bent on gatekeeping a game should stick to stickball
Staying way off the grid like the kick and the snare
FBI chipped my wardrobe just to track what I wear
Splitting hairs picking which oppressor to kill
Hated cops as a kid, I didn’t listen in D.A.R.E.
Fucking abusers can’t hide behind allegedly
Profit off a lie like Miley Cyrus off the ketamine
Sensitive and quiet with depression and anxiety
And still find the time to outshine all of my enemies
Get the fuck over that hip-hop from ‘73
Talk about that shit with old ass Betty and Gene
Any time my girl tells me, I get on my knees
Shit, I’m living the millennial American dream
[Chorus]
Another year, another step to heaven’s gates, sonny
Immature baby boy, I don’t save money
I might go out young, whatcha say, buddy?
Another year, another step to heaven’s gates, sonny
(x2)
[Verse 2]
Weaponize my youth ‘cause I still feel like a kid
Disheveled Heely’s were the only set of wheels I could get
Old money fat cats letting big bands swing
Take a sample of their riches, never clear it with them
Faded sketches on my skin are everlasting scribbles from when I was 22
Kinda jealous because death is right in front of you
Tryna simplify a new age that puzzles you
Keep guessing because you don’t have a fucking clue
[Verse 3]
Dirty ass bop’s in the Drive, then play it through the phonograph
Melt the wax cylinders, free the stolen tracks
Out-of-touch, touchy elders love to choke us all
They’ll have to pick their shattered dentures out their broken jaw
[Pre-Chorus]
Holy fuck, I gotta grow up
Let us live, let us live, uh
Let us live, let us live, yeah
Let us live, let us live, uh
[Chorus]
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7. |
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[Intro]
DEADPAN, unbound, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
[Verse 1: DEADPAN]
Promise there’s a body hidden deep in my clothes
Tailor calls me deplorable
Spellbound by my beauty
So I dress like a sorcerer
Amorphous from the neck to the mudguard
Draping cloak’s sweeping the rug hard
I get under their skin
Little pest, I’m a stickbug
Bumble bee attire
Different stripes to this fit stuff
Lip-dubbed horse ticks in slim-cut suits
Stock skins clogging wind tubes, but hate my shit ‘cause it’s loose
But there’s room for us two
In this interlocking sea of garments
Only you can see this corporal territory still uncharted
Tight-fisted oversized egotist grinning wide
Weaving threads of lies to leave my body uncivilized
[Pre-Verse: unbound joy]
unbound, DEADPAN, unbound
Yeah
[Verse 2: unbound joy]
Sit back and tell me all your lies
Take me for a fool and never look me in the eyes
Yeah, I get it
But you don’t get yourself
I’m only sending love, I’ll make your heart fucking melt
If you’d let it
And you’re obsessed with the wrong things
Think you have control, but you’re the one on strings
To be fair, I don’t even know a thing
I haven’t made shit, I don’t even know a thing
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8. |
Getting There
02:10
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[Verse]
She’s from the other side of town
First date, she wore a crown
Rebuked her birthplace and her sacred grounds
Feel like Despereaux in those cavernous halls
Hiding shaky frowns, ‘cause the gesture shows my mismatch radical thoughts
Red flag, glint of gold, and a hammer involved
No granite lawn, I called her name from a crack in the wall
Mancha de plátano reaches deep in the pores
Scrub it clean to the core for a chance at building a regal rapport
But she sees me as more
Any demeaning retort, this secret freedom fighter’s seeking a war
Our bloodlines empty into different oceans
One is ruby red, the other’s murky ochre
Split the globe into spirals meant to stay chipped and broken
Lift omens when our rivers flowing are interwoven
Her hand guides the strokes
Fuck if it isn’t noble
Coated with the medley of us
Fuck if it isn’t noble
[Chorus]
You could tell that I was different when we met
Cherished my mess as a blessing, and not a threat
Saw the right path, and turned left
Chasing endless love with me when you settled for less
(x2)
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9. |
Dialed Out
03:14
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[Verse 1]
So used to fighting back tears, I cherish the moment that I put my fists and my guard down
Welcoming visions of death, and chill with regret in intimate large crowds
But, a smile’s just an aberration
An alternate history still impending, waiting
For unrelenting waves of poorly-rendered sameness ‘til it changes
Accessorizing with a vial full of time
Hugging my neck tight, bounces with a thunderous blood pump
Bad sign, but it floats freely in a sea with the scent of thyme
Anchored roughly in place by my sand skin that matches the knot in the twine
Thousands of fears tapdancing all over my spine
Beats my nervous system out of line
‘Cause even the gaze of my loved ones is a huge ass threat
Chest clenched and my face is melting away in a hue past dead red
[Chorus]
Losing connection with you for what I don’t say
Cloud below me is stone gray
Fighting through quiet mornings for the whole day
Losing connection with you and running the wrong way
Not welcoming long stays
Fighting through childhood tapes, the way that we talk changed
[Verse 2]
Records spinning to chiptune sounds of war
Two channels at once distract me from the thought that I can’t take it anymore
Stranded in this bedroom, no doors
And none are welcome, seldom crawling up rungs
Held in the custody of loved ones pelting
Near truths ‘til they set in
Tedious years since I remembered a dream
Breezing through menial tears, meaningless weeks
Wake up excited to go to sleep
Delivering fiery pleas at the gates of unconsciousness
Yet again, rejected, take my self-image out and hollow it
That leaves you with a broken frame of mind
Shattered remnants drenched by glassy eyes
It’s past revival, save your blatant lies, tricks, and patient time
Still evading pushing daisies through the painful light
Staying sane by praying for these ever-draining rainy nights
[Chorus]
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10. |
YELLOW SERIF
03:08
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[Chorus]
Framed images of every single screwup
Cover the walls of where I grew up
Taping over happy memories I never knew of
The old me stumbles into new ruts
(x2)
[Verse 1]
Fleeting faces of fear forever baked in the wood grain
Shaped by my frail fingers spilling polyurethane
Transient moments of aimless tripping
Expiration date’s caked on the wall
Gripping glints of her forgiving fables keeping callous inner cadences calm
Small scathing assaults
Staring at the ceiling, tracing every crevice and crack
Relish in the confines
Craft my own limits, algorithm conditioned to blemish the facts
Slight typos in permanent ink my torso
Distorted short stories hoarded in the corner
Daily reading ‘til my space on this earth has been foreclosed
For now, it’s the last page that shredded my sore throat
Organic damage never being processed
Scorching and shifting floating stepping stones grade progress
Can’t move on, can’t stop yet
Slip, and I’ll drop dead
[Chorus]
[Verse 2]
Every scream is choreographed in guttural ballrooms
Yet I smile out of the side of my mouth
Fall through every spin of the globe
Young, withering bones I withdraw to
Four-by-six photogenic vestiges of different eras
Yellow serif timestamps, still imperiled
These feral hands hold on while the years roll
Wringing out an elegy of scraps from these real old
[Chorus]
(x3)
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11. |
WORKS CITED FREESTYLE
02:28
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[Verse 1]
Digging at the bottom of the barrel of the fucks that I’m supposed to give
Beauty’s in my blood, fuck that eye of the beholder shit
Defend your cop daddy and I’ll turn you both to poster kids
For being lined against the wall and hanged, cold and motionless
Hold up, forgot to give me caps when apportioning my skill points
Gorging on tactical scrolls
Nourishment for this pretty boy, adorable killjoy
Snoring on my well-worn laurels to fill voids
Hand-forged liquid machetes on my nightstand
Carving serenades with indefinite lifespans
Spinning webs in one fell swoop and they’re star-struck
Shatter dream houses to throw a gem on my wife’s hand
[Chorus: DEADPAN, YC, & Isaiah Diaz]
Loud with the fits, so I lay low
Do what I want when I say so
I don’t fuck with you dudes, so I lay low
Do what I want when I say so
[Verse 2]
Heat commanding your neck, slinging that chin music
Smooth delivery, Gerritt Cole with the pitch movement
Filthy arsenal they seek out
They’re only known for commentary, Dave Niehaus
An apple pie a day keeps the troops at bay
Growing older, but whittle down to what I used to weigh
Beachhead chilling, gift an albatross to ancient rhymers
To the maker’s naked eye, different natures, same designer
Armada of yachters tryna claim we’re in the same boat
They’re S.S. Zong; I’m living labor-by-the-wage broke
Clove around my neck to ward off rappers hosting game shows
On the run, ducking bloodsucking pricks, so I lay low
[Chorus]
[Outro: DEADPAN, YC, & Isaiah Diaz]
Uh, yeah
Come on, Izy, talk to them! Talk to the people bro, come on!
I can’t
Hit ‘em with one
Listen
DEADPAN
That was deep!
DEADPAN
DEADPAN
I can’t say that. I was gonna roast this man.
My sheet coming off my bed like a peasant (okay!)
That beat was like, “nah, bro!”
I wanna hear that! I wanna--
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DEADPAN New Jersey
Brooklyn-based abstract rapper/producer from South Jersey. Peace and power.
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