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Sunday, December 13, 2015

Lyrics to a Few of My Tracks

Playing Like An Angel, Grooving Like The Devil (W/ DJ Manticore)
http://www.soundclick.com/bands/default.cfm?bandID=117063


My random binary flows leave you puzzled
In Chinese handcuffs, neutered and muzzled
High-C - but you can call me Vorhees
I'm Johnny Wad in these lyrical orgies
I got rhymes like presidential blowjobs
The shit smokes like Frop from Bob Dobbs
Lyrical cascades from a veteran Noser
alt.fan.veronika-moser
It's always tasty
Like Persian scag
And fuckin' iller than Tupac in drag
I need a buzz, so I'm huffin' up methane
Gone insane like paint chips to the brain
Exhume to consume
Get ready for the bleeding
Crazy rhymes, I'm eating what an Aussie toad's secreting
Construct my rhymes via quantum mechanics
The verbal antics put MCs in a panic
On my light flow days
I cut heads like O.J.
My puncture wound massacre leaves you dead as RFK
Runnin' shit like a mule or a Mason
The Hessian Jason that's in league with Satan
Self-referential
But I don't curse the loss of reverence
Present the evidence that relegates you to irrelevance
Take you to task in my dead skin mask
A tangled skein, Ed Gein
I suffocate like nerve gas
39 chambers
But they're all at Auschwitz
Mad doggin', I go postal like David Berkowitz
The only MC that can kick it in a fez
I slaughter motherfuckers like my name was Menendez
Like Ted Bundy
I came to put the hammer down
Insane clown
Defender of the crown
Swamped in gore like Elizabeth Bathory
Cross yourself from my heretical blasphemy
You better hope for a mercyful fate
Hesitate?
I'll rip you up like Sharon Tate
Bloodshot eyes, in a fog of purple haze
Morbid tales
I'm sick like Giles de Reis
The blizzard beast, with slash and burn tactics
Watch me mack this
I'm slightly out of practice
Ancient tales of Lovecraftian horror
Invite you flies, kindly step into my parlor
Can't stop the ticking of that damnable heart
Beneath my floor, where you lie torn apart
A magic bullet from a grassy knoll
I ain't your everyday Usenet troll
Verbose mods, I'm suffering' from code bloat
But I'll still fuck you up like bonghits from Goat

I reside at the top
Like Ramen
And go Hong Kong Phooey on you fucking shaolin
Stay the same while I rhyme Tutankhamen
And switch it up just to throw you off track
Nice try with the bullet/rhyme metaphor
Say some rhymes that we ain't heard yet
Wanna go to war, I'll fuckin' take you to war
And won't relent until I wet your whole set
I'm bringing doomsday for you deceivers
Non-believers
Ya fuckin' nation of mouth-breathers
I write rhymes like I used to drop hits
That old time
Double dipped
Berkeley shit
MCs, please
You're just a scab on my ass
You're just a student, I'm fuckin' teachin' the class
Like an '83 Regal
I flex the Kegel
Break your every bone
Like Evil Knieval
I'm going Sweeney Todd on you fucking common rabble
Like the Barber of Seville at the Tower of Babel
Babylon Fell
1000 Days in Sodom
Crazy dope hardcore rhymes?
I fuckin' got 'em
A solo MC with the mark of the beast
You put Vic in the mix
You better call for the priest
My DJ's the coper and your death looms closer
Try to get hype
But I'll always be doper
On and on
Phantasmagoria
I might be dissin' or pissin' ya off
But never borin' ya
My claim to fame as a master thespian
I gotta give a shout out to all the funky lesbians
Times up – so it's time for my departure
I always hit the target, just like a Zen archer


When In Rome (Magician's Birthday Mix)
https://soundcloud.com/the-original-high-c/when-in-rome-magicians-birthday-remix


In 2001 I was just messin' around on my own doin' some Wesley Willis-type shit
When I got an email from a cat named DJ Manticore
He said “I made a few tracks from your acapellas on mp3.com
Why don't you give 'em a listen and tell me what you think?”
I did, and I was blown away
This was some for-real hip-hop type shit
Finally a DJ that understood me
And you know I've been nerdcore before ANY of you cats
Anyway, I thought it was fitting on this, his birthday
That I cut some lyrics about him using one of my favorite tracks he's ever made
It's called St. Roman's Passion, and this is how it goes...


Let me tell you 'bout my DJ, kid
In the eBay of life he's always makin' the high bid
No skid row bum, comin' dumb with no talent
He swings and brings swords like his name was Prince Valiant
I got to jail
He's got bail
I got his back like I was fuckin' chainmail
The Roman Empire
My man gets props
Plus I gotta give it up to his mom and pops
With the skills that amaze
He's got beats for days
1337 musician with the means and ways
He heads the house sub-committee on funky new tracks
Cuts his beats with an axe
Hip-hop lumberjack
He's got more cuts
Than a snitch in prison
Foreigner 4 on the floor
With the mad double vision
Manticore's the Mason
To my motherfuckin' Dixon
He's mixin' tricks in
For all you little vixens
I'll say it once
Don't ever Front
My DJ is doper than a spacebase blunt
Cuz is was kid tested
Your mother – approved
Manticore show and prove with the fucking Krush Groove
The coolest of editors
A sample predictor
A true artiste
The 13th letter
He packs the bowl in
Homeboy be rollin'
Every summer he invades Poland
He controls the spice
The children and the future
Try to say he ain't nice
You'll leave the show in sutures
The instrumentals are rich
And you meek get meeker
He's a full-time tweaker
Makin' love to your speakers
Quintessential DJ
Livin' up to his potential
And he ain't from New York
Or even South Central
In a sense, I guess
Opposites attract
Cuz he's a cool motherfucker
And I'm proud to be wack
Manticore rocks the House of Atreides
Cuz he makes tracks like I chain smoke Bidis
He's the only rap producer that I can put my trust in
We're steady bustin', from London to Ruston
A seeker of grails
And he ain't for sale
He hunts down beats like they were a white whale
Irreverent
But also highly relevant
DJ Manticore is the fucking Fifth Element

I don't freestyle
But if I did, it's be wild
I'll make bank and kick the stank out you rank and file
I leave MCs in piles
Like my name was Pol Pot
You might be cool as ice, kid
But some like it hot
So don't get too close or else you might get shot
I set trip with Crips
And rip shit at the dope spot
I go to the Goodwill
For black Wranglers
Rap strangler
I'm the one minute mangler
Straight from my head right back to yours
I wage eternal wars
Cuz I'm the cracker with the tracks
The off-white mack
You punks get smacked when I pop the stack
Cuz I can kick it in Algol
Roll in up in a Snoball
Anything from Ruby
All the way back to COBOL
The schizophrenic
My infection? Pandemic
I put heads to be when I wax polemic


I crack a little sneer at your common cocktail banter
Two steps to the left
Cuz I'm deft as Eddie Cantor
I bring a compendium obscure
Straight from Loompanics
Epiphanic revelations shed light among the frantic
You can flip a few words
But that don't make you famous
I'll rip a full strip and trip
You'll get raped like Tori Amos
You're the weakest link
In this mind meld
Red shirt
And you get canceled like Seinfeld
From the mixed-up files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler
I'm a Wind in the Door
Inspired Divine Styler
This is The Crucible
It's irreducible
You think you're better – but the feeling is mutual
Can't stop for death
So you're along for the ride
I heard a fly buzz when you died
I throw aside the seventh veil
Your artifice of superficiality
This carriage holds but just ourselves
And immortality
In my stately pleasure dome decree
You fall flat in the face of an educated MC
Iron Man, on a thing called horse
I'll carve my name in your fly-blown corpse
No Sleep Til Hammersmith
I'll spit mad shit
Straight from Zoog's Rift
So go decipher
I'll play the sniper
Come again, but not so hyper
A homeopathic dose of my Vogonic poetry
And when I flow it, B, the motherfuckers all know it's me
I gotta give a thumbs down to your third-rate horror
Blood-sucking Freak
I'm a fucking skull borer
From Beyond
I'll chew out your pineal
And once again – the effort is minimal
Armchair critique? I'll do you one better
Here's a bill, go find you an editor
I got Nietzschean styles
You try but you Kant
My stanzas bonanza
Cause your Pavlovian pant
I electrify like Nikola
And you're a half-baked Edison
High-C pulls the plug on your fucking bad medicine..


(I've bet lots of people $1500 that they couldn't get 75% of the references in that last verse, and I've never lost.)