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In the daysâ¦
Before violence was senseless and counterproductive
There were three young friends, who were not to be fucked with
Inner city thugs, what? Rough riders!
Vancouver-after-losing-the-Stanley-Cup rioters
Thriving on chaos, anarchistic
Hedonistic, auto-cannibalistic
Like a wolf lickinâ a blade stuck in the ice
Thinkinâ itâs gettinâ a taste, life blood slippinâ away
Iâm talkinâ Bad Boys, throwinâ dice in the ghetto
Drinkinâ liquor like it was a sacrifice to the devil
Dancinâ, gamblinâ, gettinâ money illegally
Through nothinâ but extortion and thievery
I mean, these guys were bad-asses; women would bat lashes
At âem, but mostly only for cash transactions
Yeah, that happens; you can hate it or love it
But if you hate it then youâre probably not acquainted with thugginâ
Iâm not sayinâ itâs right; Iâm just sayinâ itâs real
If youâre chasinâ a thrill, itâs probably makinâ you feel
Good, like takinâ a pill, and these guys were thrill-seekinâ
Just three friends gettinâ ill every weekend
Now I know what youâre thinking! Typical gangster rappers
But these guys were Belgians, from medieval Flanders
Think Boyz in the Hood; think Menace to Society
Just, from the Middle Ages, of the Flemish variety
Thatâs a human universal, groups of aggressive men
We get it from Adam and Eve, from original sin
Thatâs why people have these appetites, and thatâs why Christ
Had to be sacrificed, because of Adamâs apple bites
Tragic, right? Jesusâ body torn to pieces
Just âcause Adam and Eve were so naughty
Kayne: Jesus walks with me!
But too much preaching will leave you actively snoring
So Iâll keep things moving and weâll go back to the story
It starts at a tavern one morning, where those three thugs
Were still havinâ a stab at a party, three sheets drunk
I mean, decent people were workinâ; theyâre still out drinkinâ
Outside they heard the sound of a church bell ringing
And saw a hearse bringinâ a fresh corpse for a funeral
The bartender saw it too, and thatâs when the news broke
âItâs someone you know!â The bartender told them
âIt must have been a bad batch of somethinâ someone sold him
âCause yesterday he was here, just like, havinâ a beer
And death took him while he sat in his chair, fuckinâ weird!
I guess death is the only unbeatable enemy
So we all better be ready to meet him eventuallyâ
The main thug took a swill of a bottle, full of bravado
And went all Robert Rodriguez, Desperado
Like, âThatâs disrespect! Iâm sick of death!
You rock a bulletproof vest, shit, heâll get you for cigarettes!
Iâm frickinâ vexed! You say Iâll never defeat him?
I say letâs go find him â fuck it â Iâm ready to meet him!
The violence in me, reflect the violence that surrounds me
So I say if death wants beef, he found beef!â
Biggie: Iâd rather go toe to toe with all of yâall
Runninâ ainât in my protocol
I guess he thought âdeathâ was a person, silly thug
People get some funny ideas when theyâre really drunk
The other two guys were like, âAn eye for an eye
We in this together, son, your beef is mine!â
And that was it, three drunk angry men
Stumbled out the door, lookinâ to capture death
But they didnât get far; they met this old guy in the forest
Who looked like he was reppinâ the dark side of the force
On the death star, I mean bags under his bloodshot eyes
Like Charlie Sheen after hittinâ the meth hard
Cracked skin like leather, frail and decrepit
His whole body wrapped in dirty rags like a leper
The old man waved and said, âHey, whatâs the word?
You guys look kinda lost â can I help you get somewhere?â
The main thug answered back, like: âDonât touch me!
Youâre covered in crusty scabs! Itâs disgusting!
I think youâd better tell us how youâre even still aliveâ
And the old man replied âHey, Iâm ready to die
Iâve been knockinâ on heavenâs door since I was seventy-five
I guess death just isnât ready to let me inside!â
Thatâs when the second thug stepped in like âShut up!
Death is your friend and youâre tryinâ to protect him from us!
I can smell a set-up, so tell us where he is!
Either youâre with us or youâre with the terrorist!â
The old man laughed, like: âWhat? Youâre lookinâ for death?
Heh heh, well then thatâs what youâll get
Death is right over there, really, go see
I just left him like two minutes ago, under that oak treeâ
The thugs ran full speed, and when they arrive
At the tree, they just stared, with bulging eyes
Death wasnât there, just a bag full of money
Stacks of fifties and hundreds, and handfuls of twenties
Suddenly lookinâ for death was forgotten,
The main thug started scheminâ and plottinâ and slick talkinâ
He said, âListen, Iâm a clever man, aight? I hatch plots
And I can tell you, this much money attracts cops
We need to get it back to a stash spot, you feelinâ me?
But transporting this, by day? Liability!
So letâs do this right yâall â we wait for nightfall
And then we bring it home, and split it up with the lights off
After that we can spend it, but for now we just chill
So we need some booze, right? We got hours to kill
Letâs draw straws, two of us can stand guard
And weâll send the third man off to get a bottle of cab sauv!â
The plan sounded damn suave, the youngest
Pulled the bad straw and ran off, and as soon as he was gone
The main thug went on, like: âAight, listen up
Iâm about to get you paid â what would you say
If I told you we could split this up two ways,
Are you game?â The second thug said âOkay
But hold up, wait; what about our friend?
What are we supposed to tell him? Know what Iâm sayinâ?â
âWe donât say nothin,ââ said the first, âwe play rough and
Straight rush him and stick a knife in his side â I ainât bluffinâ
If we can bring him down, and then weâll be kingpins
And never have to think about income again.â
The second thug shrugged, like: âAn eye for an eye
We in this together, son, your beef is mine.â
While in the meantime, the youngest was walkinâ back
Thinkinâ âGod damn, I want all that cash
If I split it with those chumps, all I get is a third of it
Nah, Iâm gonna murder those two fuckinâ invertebrates
This isnât a game; this is a blood sport!â
So first he hit the liquor store, then he hit the drugstore
And told the pharmacist, âI got some rats in my basement
I need some poison so I can set some traps and waste âem!â
And pretty soon, he was walking back to the money tree
With three bottles of wine, two poisoned and one clean
And what happened next? Exactly what I said
His two back-stabbing friends stabbed him to death
Without a shred of remorse; the main thug said
âAy-yo, letâs have a quick drink before we get rid of the corpse!â
And he grabbed a bottle, and he took a long swallow
And he passed it over to the second thug to follow
And it was all over, they went from boastinâ and bragginâ
To drinkinâ rat poison cocktails, chokinâ and gagginâ
And no one was left standing â they all died
Triple homicide, like a Biggie Smalls rhyme
Three friends, lookinâ for death, headstrong
Murder one another for cash, dead wrong
Get rich or die trying â ask 50, he knows
Like several different plot-lines of Quentin Tarantinoâs
Get the c-notes, the Gâs, yo, the Benjamins
That street ethos you get from medieval Belgians
See, people donât change, youâre all corrupted
Fallen, thatâs why yâall need spiritual sustenance
Guidance, you know, like the kind I provide
A ticket to heaven for .95
You like sex and violence? Just buy my record
It provides the whole essence of the bibleâs message
Just like Kanye West, Jesus Walks with him
Thatâs a multi-platinum gangster gospel record!
See, you feed your soul and your bank balance replenishes
So open your wallets up for heavenâs representatives!
Thatâs why I wrote this rap, to help you get your soul back
In return for cold cash, so donât hold back
Donât even hold back one cent
Thatâs the only way to avoid becoming part of the âone percentâ
Look, I know youâre lost, and all you want is redemption
Well you can have it, for a small cost
By accepting a pardonerâs blessing
So step forward
Money ready, and accept the blessing
God told me itâs my destiny to be rich
Just like pastor Rick Warren
Or like Deepak Chopra
Or like that chick who wrote The Secret
Look, youâre takinâ a risk either way
Either you risk a few dollars
Or you risk your soul
You canât afford to risk your soul
Just ask Pascal
So hand your money over
- Album:
- Big Boy In Love
- The Canterbury Tales Remixed
- The Rap Guide to Evolution: Revised
- The Rap Guide to Business - EP
- The Rap Guide to Human Nature
- Rapconteur
- Apocalyptic Utopian Dreams In the Western Wilderness
- The Rap Guide to Evolution
- The Rap Canterbury Tales
- Lit Hop
- Swordplay
- The Rap Guide to Religion
- The Rap Guide to Medicine