I am so cheesie

"What's Left of the Mix"

His red eyes they closed,
And his last breath spoke,
He had seen all to be seen.
A life once full,
Now an empty vase;
Wilt the blossoms
On his early grave.

Walk away samurai,
Walk away samurai,
By morning we'll be FREE!
Wipe the shit-stained tear
From your honour dear,
And raise what's left
Of the Mix for me!

Then the stacks of chy
Count to 1, 2, 3;
Fell apart as they hit the floor.
In a garb of black,
We must pay respect
To the color we were born to mourn.

Walk away samurai,
Walk away samurai,
By morning we'll be FREE!
Wipe the shit-stained tear
From your honour dear,
And raise what's left
Of the Mix for me!

In his place there grew
An angry festered wound,
Full of hatered and remourse.
Where I pick and scratch
Til' the blood it matched
The silent rage that now fills my lungs.
For there are many ways
To kill a man they say:
With machete, shovel, or sword.
But son the bullet fired
From a shapeless guise
From a Type 79X sniper gun.

Walk away samurai,
Walk away samurai,
By morning we'll be FREE!
Wipe the shit-stained tear
From your honour dear,
And raise what's left
Of the Mix for me!

From the Mix out to the BLUE sector,
Where many men and many more will fall;
But no angel flies with me tonight,
Though freedom reigns on all.
And fuck the J's for which
We slaved our days,
So every men chose Kingdom Come!

But sure as night turns day,
It's a passion play;
Oh my god,
What have they done?
With madmens rage,
Well they dug our graves,
But our clones rise again you fools!

Walk away samurai,
Walk away samurai,
By morning we'll be FREE!
Wipe the shit-stained tear
From your honour dear,
And raise what's left
Of the Mix for me!

Walk away samurai,
Walk away samurai,
And by morning we'll be FREE!
Wipe the shit-stained tear
From your honour dear,
And raise what's left
Of the Mix for me!

*cackles*

I burn a black candle!
When the flame fades, consider my flatline a free sample
We hear them cats talkin noise behind that corporate trash heap
Where the stench of a commuter briefcase replaces bad sleep.
And it's, worker zig-zagers versus piggy badge flashers
Training Generations  for Fallout, cryin' Waterfalls on bricklayin pincushions who are tryin' to crawl out

There's smoke in my iris.
But I painted a sunny day on the insides of my eyelids

So I'm ready now

I'm ready for life in this city
And my wings have grown almost enough to lift me
I'm a dinosaur with Bansupuro Park in my hourglass, Passing the time with serial killer coloringbooks and Dezraldrin marbles

Don't tell me you ain't the droid that held the match to the charcoals, Don't tell me God and Satan don't carpool.
I'm not trying to graduate to life: just gonna sit here and curse, on the barstool

I know that one!

;)

[edit] I meant ReeferMadness' song[/edit]

(Edited by Xeethot at 5:42 pm on Nov. 17, 2004)

Straight out da Mix.

1:Dred
Straight outta RED, crazy motherfucker named DRED
From the gang called Mixers With Attitudes
When I'm called off, I got a sawed off
Squeeze the trigger, and bodies are hauled off
You too, boy, if ya fuck with me
The Judges are gonna hafta come and get me
Off yo ass, that's how I'm goin out
For the punk motherfuckers that's showin out
Arts start to mumble, they wanna rumble
Mix em and cook em in a pot like gumbo
Goin off on a motherfucker like that
with a gat that's pointed at yo ass
So give it up smooth
Ain't no tellin when I'm down for a jack move
Here's a murder rap to keep yo ass still
with a crime record like Johnathan McGill
MP-11 is the tool
Don't make me act the motherfuckin fool
Me you can go toe to toe, no maybe
I'm knockin Arteries out tha box, daily
yo weekly, monthly and yearly
until them dumb motherfuckers see clearly
that I'm down with the capital R-E-D
Boy you can't fuck with me
So when I'm in your neighborhood, you better duck
Coz DRED is crazy as fuck
As I leave, believe I'm on my V fix
but when I come back, boy, I'm comin straight out da Mix
Chorus:
The mix in Withmore, Mix in withmore
[Dred] Yo Ben
[Ben] Whassup?
[Dred] Tell em where you from!

2.
Straight out da Mix, another crazy ass mixer
More punks I smoke, yo, my rep gets bigger
I'm a bad motherfucker and you know this
But the pussy ass corpies don't show this
But I don't give a fuck, I'ma make my snaps
If not from the records, from jackin the crops
Just like burglary, the definition is 'jackin'
And when illegally armed it's called 'packin'
Shoot a motherfucker in a minute
I find a good piece o' pussy, I go up in it
So if you're at a show in the front row
I'm a call you a bitch or dirty-ass ho
You'll probably get mad like a bitch is supposed to
But that shows me, slut, you're composed to
a crazy muthafucker from tha street
Attitude legit cause I'm tearin up shit
Ben controls the automatic
For any dumb fuckin Art that starts static
Not the right hand cause I'm the hand itself
every time I pull a 830 off the shelf
The security is maximum and that's a law
B-E-N spells Ben but I'm raw
See, coz I'm the motherfuckin villain
The definition is clear, you're the witness of a killin
that's takin place without a clue
And once you're on the scope, your ass is through
Look, you might take it as a trip
but a nigga like Ben is on a gangsta tip
Straight outta RED…

Chorus

Stalka] Sleazy is his name and the boy is comin...

Verse Three: Sleazy-sleeze

...straight out da miz
is a brotha that'll smother yo' mother
and make ya sister think I love her
Dangerous motherfucker raises hell
And if the TERRA ever try to make meget caught I  bail
See, I don't give a fuck, that's the problem
I see a motherfuckin Agent I don't dodge him
But I'm smart, lay low, creep a while
And when I see a punk pass, I smile
To me it's kinda funny, the attitude showin a nigga drivin
but don't know where the fuck he's going, just rollin
lookin for the one they call SlEazy
But here's a flash, they never seize me
Ruthless! Never seen like a shadow in the dark
except when I unload, see I'll get over the hesitation
and hear the scream of the one who got the last penetration
Give a little gust of wind and I'm jettin
But leave a memory no one'll be forgettin
So what about the bitch who got shot? Fuck her!
You think I give a damn about a bitch? I ain't a sucker!
This is the autobiography of the Sleaze, and if you ever fuck with me
You'll get taken by a stupid dope brotha who will smother
word to the motherfucker, straight outta RED

So you wanna be a Judge?!!!! So you wanna be on the TOP.

Arresting and shootin' all the kids on the block, incarcerate the youth of the next generation, and you get the high fives at the fuckin' station.

So you wanna wear black and chrome, preyin' on the people in the dome.

Beat down the poor, and the working class core…Your nothing but a class trading motherfucking rich man's whore!

You're a bitch to the crown, Keep your own people down.

You got an answer in your holster and no question to kill, You got a vision for society and it's your will.
I can see your buddies hanging outside the window, Still.

Mixers Wanna Act

Yo, you the type of cat in the building holdin' the cracks
Playin' some o' the Sinners on the corner holdin' the gatts
Ganger come through, a ganger kill, never blow back
You the Art never did but send in all the facts
Yo, I know mixers like you cuz I meet 'em all the time
And I send 'em to da vat if they ever keep what's mine
If I lose I get loc, put a fool in the yoke
Two to da corpie's throat, take his jewels and his neXus coat
More than likely, you ain't got to like me
And this might be the last time I take you nicely
For my legion, fill up the season and start squeezin'
Franco talkin' shit, be behind the cars weavin'
There's no breathin', ain't nobody in here leavin'
You kill my man, I kill your bitch, now we even
I'm from a cold world, where it's bleeding 20 degrees in
Fahrenheit, corpies get sniped for no reason
Do a lot of work, got plenty funds and many guns
Many sons, gangers do anything to anyone
And on the streets I don't doubt nuttin'
So when you talk to Ecks better watch yo mouth son

[1] - Yo, if agents wanna act we can act
You judges wanna scrap, we could scrap
You Sinners got gatts, we got gatts
You corpies wanna style, we style
If you get foul, we get foul
You get wild, we get wild

If agents wanna act we can act
If judges wanna scrap, we could scrap
You Sinners got gatts, we got gats
You corpies wanna style, we style
If you get foul, we get foul
You get wild, we get wild

Yo, started with a blue whip, got a silver new whip
Cuz judges watch when I do shit, keep poppin' up new shit
Think the whole Mixer World on some clue shit
We Vanilla Silk sippers, Orifice strip club mixers
Peace to the street team, ya'll get love
Six years ago I was the have-not ganger
Now I'm 6 drop mixers, got 10 Conciliators
50 G's per hit and I ain't even drop Judges
Shock Judges who thought I was a pussy ganger
You go against Josh you get your wig rocked mixer!
Players like WildFire'll leave your whole block bitter

[Repeat 1]

Yo, I do this everyday, why brag about the glory?
Tell you the whole truth, never half the story
You wasn't no hater, you'd probably be happy for me
WJF Most Wanted, first slot in every category
Sinners say they love me, they don't love me
I know deep down they wanna slug me
I feel the vibe when they hug me
And need I approach little corpies seated in coach
I mean, um, think it's smaller than the weed in my roach
Oh yeah, this my dough year
Jealousy and envy'll get you nowhere
You don't like me, bet against me
You right, got dough do whatever you like
I get front row seats on the night of the fight
My Rolex too tight, how many link, loosen my ice
And 'fore I scoop the dice, bet a grand I beat the duece twice
Mixers who don't make dough, I don't affil'ate with 'em
I'm dyin' from a sickness known as Corpie-ism

Um, yo, whatever you want
We can do
We can do it better
And you judges wanna scrap? We can scrap
Arts wanna wild? We wild
However niggaz like it, you get it
Mixer World
It's '89, yeah, da Mix on the rise
And you don't really want no problem wit us guys

(Edited by InsaneRadical at 9:33 am on Nov. 21, 2004)

Death and Death's dog, Time.

We came to Withmore City, to Withmore City,
Seeking the joys of life, the joys of crime.
Seeking to forget, to forget the lies.

And he wore a dead man's clothes, a dead man's clothes,
To hide from Death and Death's dog, Time.
Oh, and he knows better than, better than anyone,
Even when she says to hide.
Even though no one can hide.

He came to Withmore City, to Withmore City,
Running from the woes of life, the woes at night.
Running to escape, to escape the neon knife.

And she gave him a dead man's hat, a dead man's hat,
To hide from her and her dog, Time.
Oh, and he knows better than, better than anyone,
Even if she says he can't hide,
Even if though he thought to hide.

She came to Withmore City, to Withmore City,
Chasing down a simple life, the sugar and spice,
Riding to town, to town in a taxi bright.

To wise, he wore a dead man's hat, wore a dead man's hat,
And hid from her and her dog, Time.
Oh, and she knows better than, better than anyone,
Even when he kisses her good bye,
Even though he hugged her dog, Time.

Oh, I came to Withmore City, to Withmore City,
And only found Death and her dog, Time.

Edit:
Artist: 50 Cent
Album: Get Rich or Die Tryin'
Title: Heat
/edit

This is the '50 chy' version.  It's actuly not much diffrent then the original..

(Skit)
"Aye you want some of this shit"
"Naw, I don't want that shit"
"I don't give a fuck, I don't play dat shit"
"And I'm fin'nin to buss a cap in a mixah"
"Man SHUT the fuck up"
"Whoa slow down, slow down, slow down"
"You see that brick buildin' right there"
"That's the chummahs crib, when he come out you gotta tighten his ass up"
"I'ma get in the other car"
"Aight" {*a car revs up*}
{*gunshots*}

[Chorus: 50 Chy]
If there's beef, cock it and dump it, the drama really means nothin
To me I'll ride by and blow ya brains out (brains out)
There's no time to cock it, no way you can stop it
When sinnahs run up on you wit them thangs out (thangs out)
I do what I gotta do I don't care I if get caught
The Judges kin run up on me, and they kin get fuckin' shot
I'll kill you - I ain't playin, hear what I'm sayin, chum I ain't playin
Catch you slippin, I'ma kill you - I ain't playin, hear what I'm sayin,
Chum I ain't playin

[50 Chy]
Keep thinkin I'm candy till ya fuckin skull get popped
And ya brain jump out the top like Jack-in-da-box
In the mix summer time is the killing season
It's hot out this bitch that's a good 'nuff reason
I've seen gangers's get religious when they start bleedin
Sayin "Lord, Jesus Help Me" cause they ass leakin
When they window roll down and that MP come out
You can squeeze ya lil seburo until you run out
And you can run for ya back-up
But them machine gun shells gone tear ya back up
God's on ya side, shit I'm aight wit that
We reload them clips and come right back
It's a fact chum, you go against me ya fucked
I get the drop, if you can duck, ya luckier then Lady Luck
Look chum, don't think you safe cause you moved out the mix
Cuz ya boys is still around baka, and dat ain't good
If you was smart you'd be shook of me
Cuz I'd get tired of lookin for ya, spray ya boys crib, and let ya ass look
for me

(Chorus)

[50 Chy]
My heart bleeds for you chummah, I can't wait to get to you
Behind that twinkle in ya eyes, I can see the bitch in you
Choombata you know the streets talk
So they'll be no white flags and no peace talks
I got my back against the wind, I'm down to ride till the sun turn off
If I die today, I'm happy how my life turned out
See the shootouts that I've been in, I'm by myself
Locked up I was in a box, by myself
I done made myself a millionaire, by myself
Now, shit changed motherfucker I can hire some help
I done heard about the 50 thou chy you put in the hood
But ya shooter fin'nin to get get painted it won't do 'em no good
With a pistol I define the definition of pain
If you survive ya bones'll still fuckin hurt when it rain
Oh you a pro at playin battleship well this ain't the same
Lil choombah this is a whole different type of war game
See the losers and up in shackles an' motherfuckin chains
Or laid out in the streets leakin out they brains

(Chorus)

[50 Chy]
After the fist fights it's gunfire boy you get the best of me (best of me)
If you don't wanna get shot I suggest you don't go testin me (testin me)
All the wrong I've done the Lord still keep on blessin me (blessin me)
Fin'nin to run rap cuz Dr. Zach got the recipe (the recipe, recipe)

Yeah, uh ha, aye Zach
You got me feelin real bulletproof up in this motherfucker
Cuz my windows on my motherfuckin Holden is bulletproof chummah
Cuz my motherfuckin xo3 is bulletproof chummah
Cuz my motherfuckin hat is bulletproof chummah
But the Doc said if I get hit I might get a fuckin concussion
Better that then a hole in the head right chummah, heh heh ha ha

(Edited by Nemisis at 1:33 am on Dec. 12, 2004)

"Fire Water Burn"

The dome, the dome, the dome is on fire,
The dome, the dome, the domeis on fire,
The dome, the dome, the dome is on fire,
We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn,
Burn motherfucker burn.

Hello my name is Seven Ecks, and I'm a sam-ur-ai,
I'm not oldbie, or newbie, but middle schoolbie, 400 days alive.
I don't know mofo if y'all peeps be buggin' give props to my hoe cause she fly,
But I can take the heat, cause I run these streets, and I'm not afraid to die.
Yeah I'm hung like the planet mars, and kill you faster then sars,
So if I crashed into Uranus I would play it like a guitar.
I'm kind of like Luke Skywalker, always got a blade,
I'm the root of all that's evil yeah but you can call me *****.
The dome, the dome, the dome is on fire,
The dome, the dome, the dome is on fire,
The dome, the dome, the dome is on fire,
We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn,
Burn motherfucker burn.

Yo yo, this hard-core ghetto ganger image takes a lot of practice,
I'm not black like Barry White no I am hispanic like Antonio Banderis,
So if man is five and the devil is six than that must make me Seven,
I gotta hide in heaven,
But if I go to hell then I hope I burn well,
I'll spend my days with Judge Murphy, Purity, Yoshiyuki, and Ari Franks.
And Just Johnny, Aikao, and Jinx's poltergeist,
And Lillith yeah Null Void cause he's the anti-christ,
The dome, the dome, the dome is on fire,
The dome, the dome, the dome is on fire,
The dome, the dome, the dome is on fire,
We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn,
Burn motherfucker burn.

Everybody here we go,
Ohh Ohh,
C'mon party people,
Ohh Ohh,
Throw your hands in the air,
Ohh Ohh,
C'mon party people,
Ohh Ohh,
Wave 'em like you don't care,
Ohh Ohh,
C'mon party people,
Ohh Ohh,
Everbody say ho,
Ohh Ohh,
C'mon party people,
Ohh Ohh,
Everybody here we go.