(P. Womack [BMI], H Chanin, F. Mickens [BMI] Dorothy & Darryl's Creation, A. Levin)
Verse 1 (Henry Canyons):
longing on a large scale is what makes history
body heat of a great city, at least it used to be
tonight’s unusually sharp sun taking a cat nap,
dogs showing teeth, hear the arc of their howls
giving me a chill of eeriness, cocktail bitter with weariness
hoping for another drop....
all i see is the landscape, all i feel is the sand scrapes
desperation on this man’s face
no need to hide it, because it all evaporates
the weather man claimed it’s waiting game
the devout congregate as they pray for rain,
and that group grows fewer, a statement that they lost their faith
hearing whispers of an oasis, goodness gracious
tales of a well, well beyond the end of yenavelt
it’s quite the voyage, boy it’s something that you never felt
heat crashing my cranium, hear the sizzle of my clever melt
questioning my sense of self, as if i dwelled in hell,
splish splash in the River of Stix, if i ever get back
from that trip trapped in my synapse, to feel the moisture from mother earth’s french kiss
rehydrating, eyes dilated, ‘cause we finally made it, elated holding onto the sacred
the profane wanes in waves, feeling faint with the promise of this great lake
Habibi them say pray to Allah...
Rastafari say Jah I and I
Mamma 'nem raised me Christian
When you talk to God do you lose your religion?
Oh Lord, pray I haven't lost my way
In this lost oasis
Verse 2 (Likwuid):
My cup runneth...over
Tearing thru the terrain
A tug of war with one's heart and the brain.
We climb mountains to escape boulders
Only to tongue kiss lava molten
The days are long but the years are shorter
In mother earth's miscarriage
The lactic acid in your chalice
is Lilith lying in your barracks
Too real to close our eyes
surreal is suicide
It's asinine to try to journey to the other side.
Catty cornered by the catacombs... the catacombs
In Babylon we get our battle on and babble on
Catfished by cadavers, who teeth chatter
Not from cold or conversation, but to meet their cattle.
Meat tethered and twined tied to a never ending appetite
Using your wish bone to pry
Your soul from my palate plied and bind by bile brine
Show fangs to protect the young
The hunter is the hunted what's the world become?
Verse 3 (DefCee):
Like a two-headed snake chasin’ its tail,
we hunt what's easiest to kill after braisin the quail.
We're the big fish dyin’ in a dry pond,
knockin need to the side like a pylon.
What you get for the man who has everything germ-free?
What can you grow in the everywhere that he's burned clean?
Where being a ghost town is a weak wish,
and there's only blood in the water when you drink it.
Now he's gon run the grill till the plates gone,
till we're sick with the smell of melting flesh and steak sauce.
If you're poor, he's gonna cook the all of you
cuz if there's anything Uncle Sam knows, it's how to throw a barbecue.
Hook-and-ladder plays to trick the cameras on the field.
Quick trials, heavy sentences, verdicts, and long appeals.
It ain't about what you poison...it's who.
A re-election for the vulture that's poised over your food.
from Doc Savage
released September 23, 2016
Produced by Paul "Willie Green" Womack for Paul Womack Media (BMI)
Recorded by Henry Canyons, Defcee, and Paul “Willie Green” Womack at The Greenhouse
all rights reserved
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