Continuing the run of tracks from £10 Bag (Volume 3), here is Track 4. Jehst with Brimstone Rock. This track is also on his 2003 album “Falling Down“. Beat comes courtesy of one Mr Lewis…
VERSE 1:
- How do you expect me to sleep at night?
- Knowing my people ain't eating right
- Gimme a mic, I'll strike with heat like a meteorite
- Fuck the media hype
- Scribes sniping at me and mine
- Megatron clocking Autobots with the eagle eye
- They got you covered, eye colour to your sneaker size
- Revolutionaries demonised, Mother Earth colonised
- Stolen culture commodified
- Modified genes, each regime modernised
- Maximum terror, fear and efficiency
- Military missionaries
- New age crusades
- Faith for your misery
- Minds in the grind
- No time to meditate on the mysteries of life
- Can't motivate, drive trapped in the traffic jam
- Bare-knuckle boxing, brand new caravan
- I’m caterwauling like Margarita Prakatan
- Till Sona Fam go platinum in Pakistan
- And stack collateral
- Watch the country bumpkin smash the capital
- Smack the sabbatical, batter the biblical
- Smooth I move as a criminal do
- Beating me'll take a miracle dude
- I'm screwface in the mili-ist mood
- Make you eat your greens
- You ain't leaving till you finish your food
- My outlook is like a villainous view of the near future
- Beer goggles bottle of brew and the punky brewster, puffing
- Taking your title, no discussion
- Two shades darker Mr Parker on percussion
VERSE 2:
- I’m going global so folk are all approaching me locally
- Hoping that I grab the mic, I'm like "Hokily dokily"
- Straight Ned Flanders
- Blaze trees and leave dead branches
- I see red, think left - my mindset's Marxist
- Overstand and we'll get past this
- More talk and less carnage
- Calm and peace
- The future's bright, the future's the mark of the beast
- And the devil with a smile is easily the hardest to beat yo
- I'm here caving my niche so
- I stand out from the damn crowd at the freak show
- Find wifey and breeze
- The system want me on my knees at ninety degrees
- Picture that? Hell no!
- I’m jet propelled by elbow grease and these squeaky Shell toes
- Signing on until the twelve blows
- And if it don t then it’s back to the telephone selling dope
- Welcome to the Terrordome
- This is where we live
- Street kids looking for a god to make peace with
- Modern day beatniks
- Beat digger jazz cats
- Bag wax, barren lands
- Bad man, Mad Max
- Beyond the Thunderdome
- Dope with the microphone
- Dynamo charged up, spark up the hydropo
- Blow out the ital smoke
- Choke on a solar flare
- Blue foot soldier stare colder than a polar bear
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