gearing up for the last year ever by prepping 2 albums. one is already in "the can" (as the kids are saying) and one is 2/3 of the way done and so late that the record label that signed me would probably have forgotten about it if they hadnt shelled out the cash. that said.. in case you missed all of it, heres what i did this year (publicly):
el-p "drones over bklyn" form my forthcoming album "cancer for cure"
das racist "shut up man" (produced by and featuring el-p)
exquire "the last huzzah" featuring everyone nice now
also:
RUSH OVER BKLYN
KILLER MIKE "UNTITLED SNIPPET" produced by el-p
METALLIC PURPLE
next year is, of course, the year i drop my follow up to ISWYD (CANCER FOR CURE) as well as the killer mike album i produced (R.A.P. MUSIC). cant wait to get out there again and do shows and play you all some new shit etc. thanks for giving a shit about me. im lucky to have you.
have a safe and pleasant holiday, because next year you will probably be dragged off in to a concentration camp. i kid! nah for real though.
love, el
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
HUZZAH REMIX (feat. despot, das racist, danny brown and el-p) (with my lyrics)
straight shots of the sterno plus, wick stuck in the bottle empty. 3 blocks to the target we light it and lob it hard at centry, 4 pigs of the oinking variety guard the market entry, 5 minutes of flames and then aim the whistle my father lent me,
6 oclock we meet up and divi the shells among the youngins, 7 continents in the shit and smoke like its fuckin london,
just before they 8 up the funds our harmony love was bumpin, now goverment issue 9's are pointed where your blood is pumped in,
ten(d) to mop up these muttering zombies talker pieces
el'll ven(t) on you harder than fukashima breezes,
in the end when a dozen or so adjourn to reason, youll find the verdict return corrupted in murderous seasons,
with inverted 31's and other unlucky omens,
thats why i chugg 7 and 7's till im fuckin homeless,
and every time you think my 15 minutes of fame are up i spit another 16 and prove to the world i fuckin own it,
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
my lyrics from das racists "shut up, man"
You can see hilarity ensue
Polarity rule truth
The street meat feed youth
The boogie men bend rules
Elite scene double breast monocle men move
When backroom blood boils, the ink dries quite smooth
Dim lights might prove, to bend eyesights oooh
Eyelines obscured, skyline's removed
I'm fine, and you?
Fine like sinew
In arm outstretched
Inject in you
The flash mob holds hands, chants "we want food!"
Cargo bay loads, the drones just hit Mach 2
Burner hatch opens, the drone stops drops two
like kumbaya bitches you flash us? flash you
Fuck us? Fuck that
Burn air, vaccuum
Now there's a hot flash for that ass babe, achtung
Yeah I stay guerilla mouth pouncing the block, true
Come on it's the way of things, relax act cool
No habla Inglés, only hobble, break, disgrace
kick punch run pause piss repeat delete trace
No option to talk it out, no route labeled 'escape'
flame your fuzzy friend crunchy plus cuddle with hate
El-product plucking the little wings off your fly shit
ants under the magnifier fry quick
Pinning back eyelids
Gaze upon the god that has subjected us
My whole squad's Federal Reserve, no checking us
Polarity rule truth
The street meat feed youth
The boogie men bend rules
Elite scene double breast monocle men move
When backroom blood boils, the ink dries quite smooth
Dim lights might prove, to bend eyesights oooh
Eyelines obscured, skyline's removed
I'm fine, and you?
Fine like sinew
In arm outstretched
Inject in you
The flash mob holds hands, chants "we want food!"
Cargo bay loads, the drones just hit Mach 2
Burner hatch opens, the drone stops drops two
like kumbaya bitches you flash us? flash you
Fuck us? Fuck that
Burn air, vaccuum
Now there's a hot flash for that ass babe, achtung
Yeah I stay guerilla mouth pouncing the block, true
Come on it's the way of things, relax act cool
No habla Inglés, only hobble, break, disgrace
kick punch run pause piss repeat delete trace
No option to talk it out, no route labeled 'escape'
flame your fuzzy friend crunchy plus cuddle with hate
El-product plucking the little wings off your fly shit
ants under the magnifier fry quick
Pinning back eyelids
Gaze upon the god that has subjected us
My whole squad's Federal Reserve, no checking us
Saturday, August 27, 2011
DRONES OVER BKLYN lyrics
you better stay aloof when the troops move or suicide booths sooth, the whos who of looters shoot the bullets go zoom zoom, your pain is the porn pal, they pay to pop plain shit, its faded its more foul than famous its hot sin,
holly wood off the bus fucked, tender little destruct tucked, in the waist with a gold face, feed the greedy wit dum dums,
you and me in the butane, supe a lame and he puffs up, little dragons of fad rap, suture their face the fuck up,
walk in the zone or get less, wake in the fog of fright night, eat where sifters sell trash, sleep were the orphans hell hatch. pardon me son im zoned out, cloned out, no doubt home is, blowed out, sold out without extra man bonus
tragedy smurf smirks, a middle mans shirt bursts, wetted up, wet work, you get it up get murked,
a wabbit in crosshairs, mechanical fox hunt, be quiet they're hunting now, the method is awesome,
and i can see them in my eyes when they're closed, i can feel them at night
i can feel them plot a course through the sky i believe in their flight
dones over bklyn,
you ca hear calico ultimate point at you
click clack and back em to bunny dust point of view, hardy har funny stuff tough cookie boy, ill be sure to bring my bitch bib sloppy eat flop around clown shoe getup, kids sing along, this is all we have left bitch sing a song, i was born conjoined to howlers of the siren age, lion cage meat life sacrifice, nothing left, tell me if it matters that i sing it wrong,another dj yells "lick the balls", another brooklyn kite delivered in his crooked paws,
id sooner wash my dick in acid than ask what you think, id fuck myself with a stun gun before gassing your team, you patch me in and ill dumb out with a channeled disease, it sucks to be nothing nobody struts when they're down on their knees,
this whole rackets for the bees fuck my life already, fuck the law, fuck the sun, say goodnight already, you fucking spam-bots sellin shit alright already, we get it you're gettin that fetti oh jesus christ already,
and i can see them in my eyes when they're closed, i can feel them at night
i can feel them plot a course through the sky i believe in their flight
dones over bklyn,
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
more random shit i produced
the story of producing kid hoods "drop the bomb"
im amazed this hasnt popped up earlier. i brought this up to stretch and bob around 94 (93? 95?) for them to play. every couple of years i google it to no results. now, finally, its resurfaced and got people talking. to understand how it got in to my hands to be produced i have to go back and explain some of my history. im going to keep it as brief and to the point as possible.
i was kicked out of both high schools i went to and instead of continuing along that path i opted to get my g.e.d. and go to musical engineering school at 16. it was a place called cma (center for the musical arts) in manhattan. there i met and became friends with my boy lou. lou was from hollis queens and we started hanging out up there together. he thought i had something so he started bringing me around to some of the dudes he grew up with to cut demos and hang etc. one of those friends was a rapper named anttex who put out a few records on tuff city. he would later go on to start the record label libra records with the ex accountant of tuff city records and sign as its first or second act company flow.
before co flow dropped juvenile technics anttex and i combined gear and set up a studio together in manhattan. anttex was, at one point, friends with kid hood. not long after he passed, anttex brought the kid hood tape (we were using 6 track cassette recorders at the time) by the studio. i dont remember how he had it, exactly, but i know he had worked with him so im assuming it was from those sessions. the tape didnt have a beat. it was just a vocal.
i remember that the beat i made for it was supposed to land differently, but because of the shitty set up (6 track cassette decks midi'd to a relatively primitive computer) it wasnt synching up the way we thought it would. that said, it sounded so raw that i just went with it, and thats what you hear today.
i remember we were all high as shit listening to this amazing rapper over this beat and feeling like his ghost was in the room with us (again... high). for those that dont know kid hood, he was about to be the next big thing before he died. his scene stealing verse on the scenario remix was released posthumously. for us to have this incredibly rare (and possibly only) demo was almost unbelievable.
ultimately, it never went anywhere but my studio. later, after i had fallen out with anttex and libra records (shit happens) i brought it up to stretch and bob to play. i just felt like people should hear it.
i wish i still had the tape with his vocals on it. i feel like i could really do it justice now. that being said there is something special about this song. glad it resurfaced. R.I.P Kid Hood
el-p
a note: the timeline is fuzzy for me. all i really know is that it was made around 92 and that i brought it up to play after 93.
also: big ups to the guys over at T.R.O.Y.
another note: anttex's real name was darren. thats who kid hood is shouting out at the end.
a note: the timeline is fuzzy for me. all i really know is that it was made around 92 and that i brought it up to play after 93.
also: big ups to the guys over at T.R.O.Y.
another note: anttex's real name was darren. thats who kid hood is shouting out at the end.