“Always” Defcee In my prime and out of practice. Today’s math is: it’s sixteen ounces of tragedy in a pound of madness. Flashback–sippin or smokin to counterbalance, until I vanished like how to cope in a house of addicts. Swam where sound collapses, and lapped the talent pool. Rappin til the morning skipped over an afternoon, Slammin into half a moon. My attitude was acid Cuz every helping hand I was askin for was tatted, “SOON.” Lands and grooves on the other end of the mic, Even when the blade’s duller than butter bendin a knife. Jeweler’s loupe over the verses: clustered, perfected ice. Searchin for the right words with tongue depressors and lights. Double edges of spite cut the homies off. Funny how he only plays the trump cards when he knows he lost. Rocks supervillain masks battlin grief, and keep a flick of Andrew with a laugh in his teeth. CRASHprez Now, in my younger days, I used to do the fade Niggas rockin’ Foamposites, Pewters, Cooler Greys I’m spittin’ poems in my Forces, ain’t no two-a-days I raised my voice, I made my choice Passed out down Baltimore, I hoped they’d record me When Armand had called me CRASH, that’s my origin story Had to CAPS IT like Dumile, threw prezident on it Kept it low cuz old folks say “If that’s what you wanted? You could have it” Then we got half a Kenyan, it was madness But he kept droppin’ bombs, so shit was tragic (I-I-) When every summer beat our backs Me and Matt, Me and E, Me and Cal, Me and Kub, Me and Lou, KlanLife, fuckin’ right Since my nigga died, I’m on overdrive in lovin’ life When another rise, I’ma wonder why the timing wrong Screaming to the sky: “Can y’all leave me and mine alone?” Wonder why I fight like this Cuz it’s always a time like this It’s always a time like this It’s always a time like this

“Home” CRASHprez All my bredren lived in Nigga Heaven Independence sold separate, ain’t no gated entrance Graze the tension should you venture past a pay and pension Ask too many questions, trade ya pain up for a wasted blessing Covet every pot you piss in, piss on ya neighbors Sell yourself they got a difference, diss all ya flavors I was balking how a kid did Walkman made the disc skip Khaki my meniscus Rappin’ over Sickfit Diggin’ in a callous on my fists Tabletop, 8 o’clock, freestylin’ over Clipse Ass gettin’ whipped in the cypher Ain’t no chance if you had wack shit to spit Felt the fire in me gettin’ higher Ask Lil Chris Couldn’t pass Lil Chris Baldhead from alopecia 7th grade, we made a tape Teacher let me have some features Chris got a solo Ye rocked a Pink Polo, and niggas said no homo Defcee I never forgot where home plate is: writin records in cold basements. So anxious–less genuine, and more ‘08ish. Our own worst public enemies, of course radio won’t play it. Slept through the Night of the Living Clout Hounds. Leapt into ciphers and kicked a roundhouse. Hated in their verse, heavy handed, bitter, and raw, but they’re graded on a curve, fam. I been on my job. What they thought they earned a W for? Learned young: keys open doors even when they’re under the floor. Muscles are sore from pressin the issue that covered their fall. They hit the canvas. We attack it with a brush and a saw. Today’s news written in bubble letters with double edges. Used to think there was nothin better than nothin, ever. Oops, that’s TMI like fruit from trees in Eden’s eye Dug for seeds inside and crumbled leaves to season rhymes.

“Keep That” CRASHprez Now we can talk some shit Two 16 Cp, diggin’ the scene where the gays’ll be Face a king He may think it’s Maybelline when I bat my almond eyes If I say “Great to meet” Then we take all the time And sweet thang taste the heat Then we gon’ caramelize In that suite, all will rise I don’t mean law abide I ain’t gon’ fall in line ‘til I take my coffin ride I know the strong don’t survive Cuz when I play back their words It’s sum’n like Poltergeist And ain’t no cash I earn Can buy my bonus life So that’s adjourned Fuck the frail shit Young nigga feel like Kiss Why is prezident as hard as it gets? Cuz i’m softer than y’all and it hit I’m like Baldwin with all of the fits Young Cornel when i lack a lining Givin’ ‘em Hell, we ain’t pacifying Wishin y’all well, y’all lack alignment Nigga we… Nigga we tried it Get up off them goddamn diamonds This ain’t a robbery i’m sayin’ you ain’t sayin’ not a thing This Black-Jew Power With these gems for the gang, though We keep friends on the payroll You depend on the fakes though, whoa HOOK: CRASHprez and Defcee Who y’all think y’all fuckin’ with? We ain’t knew to none of this I move with my brothers, got ‘em covered Keep that other shit Defcee How they givin out flowers while saltin the Earth? Driftin off in these verses for weeks at a time. Throw a beat on and rhyme til I’m caught in the surf, coughin up dirt. Lower fees with the tide but they’re callin it worth. Like gossip in church: they’re fiendin for drama, and causin it first. I’m locked into work while they’ve got two feet on the line just to launch into worse. Why they in it for the disses? If I wanted to be famous, I could get it by dismissin anyone that did me favors or commissioned me for business, but that isn’t what I’m aimin for. My name is more than Twitter mentions, dig it? It’s an imprint in the city that I’d visit… cuz I couldn’t build where I’m from. Therapy was steel in the drum, before I started wielding the rum like a drill in the field or a mill in the club. Eye of the storm winced. Short sprints ripppin through the losses. Lit into the bosses. Haters bitin til their jaws chip. long stints listenin to talkin, fittin it for coffins. Might not be a next year. I don’t bet scared. I can hear the debt clear in your dead air. Show me my respect here, no pretend glare. If you feel the end’s near, keep it ten squared. That chip on my shoulder what they’re tryna tip off. Crosshair to crossroads I don’t wanna miss y’all. Dripped in a drought and got fat in a famine. Liftin their sound bout as fast as their fashion. Move like a pool shark. Too sharp Seven-twenty jam in the loop jaw. Boo yah. —So if you’re viral, we’re a flu shot. Dudes locked in for a few landeded smoother than doo-wop. HOOK: CRASHprez and Defcee

“Paper” CRASHprez Open the hatch, catch my crumbs Chicken with catfish, I’m numb I got the gas in my lung Secondhand dance on my tongue Tiptoein’ all up the carport, nonstop tense If Black Mom and Narc Dad catch this hotbox scent? “Who made the kush your cologne? Who else abusin’ them brews? Who picked you up, got you home? Don’t lie, did you do it too?” Another Saturday night where I remained alive Evasion of Satan’s stride with gang and our pages dry Treat these stages like they sanctified Basement sofa been a wave to ride, we pace with pagan pride Faith adjacent to the famous lies engraved in space and time Never makin’ haste with naked minds, we face this fate- (That’s too much rappin’ ‘bout rappin’...) I hope they palette my passion, but I still panic off package How I’m gon’ pack it off practice when I can’t passive my praxis? Gon’ and picture me tired All my trauma designer Hope you prime for the fire once all the commas entice ya (One) HOOK: Defcee We were splittin up this show paper. We’d have done it all for no paper. Broke the speed limit for slow paper. Would do it all again, but we need more paper. More paper. Defcee Sick with a verse and a gram. We hid the cures in our hands. We used to plan at the crib and rehearse in a van on the way to the gig. Prayed that the pay was legit. Never betrayed who we’re with. Ain’t built the same as the kids. Dinner for two at a table for six. Slept overnight in the car, hit the stage in that fit. Tryna be swoll. Stuttered and stammered when asked to describe how we flowed. The patience we had was bout half what was normal but it depended the night of the show. Riding these roads, right in the zone we ignored flashing lights on our phones. Fantasizin: what we’ll buy when we're on. Still didn’t price it to own. All of my youngins are old. At least they’re cold. I’ma forever be rapping their songs. As I’m rememberin all of the studio trips where my big homies asked me to roll. Those dreams didn’t die. They’re retiring now. Lighter in pounds. Some of us fightin the clouds. The rest of us left on this Earth for the purpose of writin it down. HOOK: Defcee

“Endless” Defcee As the sand’s spillin out an hourglass figure, and Candyman’s fist’s slippin out a cracked mirror, I draw the past nearer. Fast-forward, flask tippers snatchin liquor fifth caps to flashback clearer. Tearin “experience terror” off the bucket list. Another day, another risk. Underpaid with double shifts. Take what I can get, even if it’s an ugly bliss. Feelin like luck’s a lick and I never tucked a grip. Thinkin on potential that I lost in a watch. Life was a beach. I’d be joggin across it in socks. Nothing charming waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nails sharp and dark from diggin into the buddha stock. At my job feelin the temperature buildin. Direct deposit dropped, confetti fell from the ceiling. Gotta wait two more weeks for relief. If I can’t, then breathe through looseleaf and a beat. HOOK: Defcee As the wheel keeps turning, And your will keeps burning, And your grind don’t stop...your grind don’t stop… As the wheel keeps turning And your will keeps burning And your time won’t stop...your time won’t stop... CRASHprez Move the Spook from the door, make him stand at the desk New recruits in the store serve the panic of flesh “Too uncouth for the floor,” said the man in the vest He too rude to ignore, how he manage ya breath Best practice: hit ‘em in the tax bracket Class action, make it fashion Say what fam is, make it fascist First chance, make my hands automatic Then glance at the stats once they pass what their stance is I’m a different face On a page, I don’t dribble if I scribble out my middle name I’m a buzzword I’m the culture-in-chief as these vultures of grief let my tongue burn I’m a line item I’m the first one to die by design once the times need a sign by ‘em Never mattered if nobody write a line like him He’ll be ridin’ pine, and the limelight will not brighten HOOK: Defcee

“Safer” Defcee Billionaires in the backseat wavin bail in his face. The sales that he chase shapeshiftin into cells that await in a future the record label’s all too selfish to break. He’s bout the bells and the bass. They wanted scales and the weight while the writing on the wall melts into Braille for his case. Outside the prison, and he’s givin all his well wishers thanks, needin a reach you couldn’t measure with the tale of his tape. From the face of the front to the backs of our minds. Smelllin the pack in his rhymes. Those the raps we rewind. The role was waiting to be filled, so his casting sublime. Raising 40s to his freedom as systems trap him in time. Pairing his record with a blunt wrap and a dime, forgetting his Jenga block of a sentence is still stacked on a lie. Memories of ditchin the kitchen and chillin in sunrays, left his past with a round-trip ticket, thinkin it’s one-way. CRASHprez Slip into this addiction, flip it for feng shui Vivid depictions of kitchens distant and untamed Hipster intentions elicit vision from one frame Spittin’ in the distance, grimace ’til mission becomes fame Young pain avatar Take my nightmares away and marinate the madness tall For my life, I’m scared today Repair my faith by sabotage Don’t you stack the wall Ain’t no slackin’ once my data fall Ain’t no past to draw Splatter passion til you can’t recall This an act we can’t withdraw The catalog is massive Once you stagnant, ain’t no chances, dog Can you spell tomorrow out? Can you melt your flesh until the sweat dislodge the hollows out? I’ve never followed God without the martyr role to talk about Breathe some, bleed some Each one, teach none Respun, restrung high up on the rafters We never can erase you We never have to thank you And next to the stage is…

“Inheritance” Defcee A band for the organs before the casket drop, and a candid recording of both the rappers shot. Tactical forces that hope the cameras watch as masses of corner kids yoked. Won’t let the hammerlock...go. Ritalin. novocaine. Blizzards and mortar rain rip through an open range. Village with no remains. The young addicted to steel and lead. Better to numb a witness than kill em dead, until their blood is chilled and they don’t judge the distance from stunt and crimson to real and red. I’m still allergic to death. Eyes get to swellin at hearses and permanent rest. Pull up at church for the service. No nerve for interments. I fled. I can’t watch you get tucked away to “Amazing Grace,” or hear the aches and pain escapin your family’s strainin face. God forbid someone photographed your body, And bought a fit when they sold it back to paparazzi. Friends will turn enemies to dress like men of means. They’ll sell your cell and wedding ring. This isn’t what God meant by “Everything must…go.” HOOK: Defcee and CRASHprez Thought we found the bottom but the lows gettin lower. Send em home with promoters for the show when it’s over. Does your death even matter if it can’t be sold? And how much of your body does your family own Until it’s dust? ...until it’s dust? And what’s left for us? What’s left for us? CRASHprez That all depends, but as of late, I’m ashamed of my offering First place in sweepstakes over claim to my coffin? I became the auction As if fame was stalking my face As if pain was all that I’d chase Meanwhile, as I mop up the seed from my stomach I wonder if I’m too diseased for our screaming in public They dim the light til we discreet See the shame how they collapse If you choosy for deceased, let me be the last I’m tough the way I act I run the way I’m black I’ve hung, no, I’ve hanged the way I stay so damn detached What to make of my silence when it’s violence unto myself? I’ve come to take the assignment of an undying love for my, vibrant love for my, Righteous love for myself My hope is dressed by my walk How I fund my life with my words, yet I choke whenever I talk? If their gun never touch none of us, I know the world fit the glove But no matter what sum they muster up, I never will lick the blood, never

“Cold Wax” Defcee Impossible is my normal. I wrote tracks in stone sap. Asking why I play the sad rapper role. jo, I don’t act. All my friends wanted was freedom and CPD had their phones tapped. Coke under pinkies to cope with creepiness of a LoJack. Grateful I saw in rap what REDACTED saw in a dopesack Self-censoring cuz they ain’t been sober for long enough to own that All of my heroes either swallowed oxies or they smoked smack. Didn’t even notice when I saw em float, flap, or zone zapped. Some of us only hang on by a thread...and then the rope snaps At the wake in my father’s suit, cuz I was broke flat. Listened to the eulogy. Something under my coat cracked. Now I reach into the grim reaper’s mouth and snatch their ghosts back Heart of cold wax. Silver tongue, and gold plaques. Used to throw yak til my chest felt like it was split with a poleax. Secrets buried under the crib, paid a yellow brick road tax Now I’m driven crazy by all the itches I won’t scratch. CRASHprez Fire-water swimming, did baptisms in cold Jack Slaughtered to submission, no mint condition when grown Black They don’t come to listen, ring every way you’ve atoned flat Drifting through the distance, another lie in a phone pact I won’t let my tone crack, I’m goin’ for my Koufax And you can’t coach that, OG I know you pray I’ll see another day, but ain’t no guarantees I know you’ve been scared for me Since I got unscared of me We prolly all need therapy When clarity evades me, I feel lazy, it’s embarrassing It’s scary when I’m facing how I’m taking time to tear at me Apparently this crazy world gon’ change me, what my tarot read Their parodies are lazy when safety remain a scarcity How I’m finna covet from a bucket, still tippin’ When my siblings gotta suffer cuz they hunted?
 This the ugly that we stuck with But I can’t turn my back on Can’t change it from within So pray for me again

Defcee I know what I don’t deserve, and I know all the smoke I’ve earned. Covered in the dirt I threw. Smelling like the dope I burned. I learned nothing lasts forever, but I want my name to try. I can’t stand the rain, but drained it dry on this page of rhymes. Paper sky that drizzles ink. Shattered dishes where I threw That kitchen sink. Peeped every gray area and lit it pink. Littered links on Twitter feeds. Complained when it ain’t hit for me. Jealous that the homies made it. Didn’t pay their ticket fees. Misery loves cliques and teams. Some of em hanging my jersey up. Doubled my paper. It urned to dust. Stuck in the chamber, and turned to rust. Budgets with vacancies running away from me under mistakes that weren’t worth enough. Stumbling lazily, hunger was catering, hustling change til these burdens dumped. Exorcism’s exercise, cleansin sin with cinderblocks. Medicine to mend the mind: pencils in the tinderbox. Write this burning out my head. Forest fires in the blood. Time is turning round the bend. Hope that I don’t miss the bus. CRASHprez Called to take the present tense as I Keep one J entrenched in yesterday Jaw agape to feast upon this life While the future drench me in malaise Prime myself to show somebody love That’s enough to make an enemy Find some help, or go to God above Or pack it up when ain’t no friend to keep Retreat, but no givin’ it up Three deep, and we whippin’ amuck If you think we sweet, ain’t no Entenmann tucked We sneak with a criminal strut But that’s what the neighbor see A waste if we ain’t in the Major Leagues But cain’t let my homeostasis tweak Keep the balance Speak your peace, you might greet the Fallon Might reach the Roots, increase the mileage You breach the truth, they’ll greet with talons Don’t falter none Walk it, son Why prophesy how you die? Why waste words like we get new time? Won’t do the grind forever That’s how crew stay behind, they clever Selling my hours to live all devoured We been held the power I rest when it’s time to rest I never depend on the flowers Do more than just trying for best We give our resistance the glory And never give in ‘til my kin and my friends Get to witness the end of the story