BURNOUT
(Ampu/Goff/Kalamka/West)
2000 Deep Dickollective LLC

'You must create in the face of haters'
is not the label's name, still if you're able to do the same
bring something strange to the table
and play nice host and pass out napkins.
Since you call yourself Captain,
that means you make shit happen.
I called out a product;
if you're down with me, don't buy it.
Collective struggle up kayak: fuck the current.
Burpin' from the swallowed scrotum curd
of this here spoken word champ called Ampu.
Goddamn you all to Acheron.
Local vocalist in the role of the socialist
to your vampire that can't retire
from the typecasting of a mirror, unseen to hearer;
come clear on what your mashin' from.
On some secondary cipher series.
It's clear I've been around a life or two
through how I sound and shit.
Increase within this brownie mix
and add yeast to make you raise up.
I'm basically embattled against these brats
that be down to eat my cake up.
Girl, I can forget about the world
and talk about myself all day.
Or I can change these letters
to paint myself like Wesley in a space-age sweater
in a jefferies crawlspace if that'd be better
according to eurocentric criteria of who's superior
and move my derrier to where's the rear of here's caboose,
but I'm not induced. I'm too fucking juiced.
I receive my orders directly from the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters.
Tight and tough, trinitrotolu-creampuff comprised of sterner stuff,
light me up: no burn out.

Pointfivefag:
I'm bailing/railing against you
157,000 units moved and i'm considered a failure
come on, and do it/better
butter with the leather pleather pants and stutters
convo on butt plugs with my mother
'bout the times when i was rhyming rudderless
lost at sea, man/I'm the boss with the key sissys
the He Who Walks Three Man
who got big dick? not me man
its just my dukey stick/ I come for you quick
come again/holding on and holdin in
hol-din- onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
holding on for dear life/can really wreck you-ou ou
so i went recluse/now im set loose
to juice the looseleaf
you read as i spread my bread unleaven
you aint my cuppa tea/as my tea at ten teeters
speed reading the ACT at eleven
im the smarty artnigga since way back
back into time/ but no fact sets
rhymes about buttcrack sweat
buddyjacks and fellatio/as I spell my ho-ratio algorithms
driven down to less than zero
no do for self like everything else i wait for the sayso
why? because I'm sidekick Kato/have it your way I'm Play Doh
post nasa Day Glo, muy feo negro/yaybos, jambos, harambes, and hey ho's
the third of my spoken word ofay fey flows
how goes it/prose chosen as I host ghosts
I've been token since close to post production/then suctioned neo natal
worse than toast burnt and scraped at the table
mama's love you with make-do edibles/sedimented carbon particles
harken to said demented articles of jargon unstable
but negating everything in front/you want some
talented but only having three albums
breaking out switching/left hand hittin Richie Allen/back to Wampum

25percenter:
In the boondocks I rock mics, up in the cut/
dissin blunted dope emcees, becuz they fucked up/
(sniff sniff), hmmm, is that some crack or just a buttpuff/
this rhymes not booty, not swellin you smellin you, I"m tellin you/
I empathize wit crews that be academically stressed/
knows my alphabets but wreck tests/
Yeah I bombed the SAT/ then I had the nerve to blast the GRE/
Graduate Record Exam/ with my nervously non-precise hand/
filling bubbles out/ gasping for the answers wit dry mouth/
(ah-hum, ah-hum), lamenting 25%tile shout outs
got tired of nerd-niggering/ analogy figuring/
and no doubt eventually burned out

LSP The Lightskindid Phil/osopher
No Doubt. No doubt
Channel factors that be in my occipital lobe be dysfunctioning
cause amygdala activation in columnar structures is deconstructing
Foucaultian revolutions like gay men in a dump truck
Im dumbstruck at dumbfucks who dont understand
My between subject design is just derivative
Or my sign that the time
Of predicting the future is modeled in Bayes Nets
I dont know what the meaning of life is cause I cant test it
Best it should be wrested from me
Invested in thee/at the behest of we
Metaphorical cultures killing families
And abstract realities lived through books of cheese
Are all my activisms made of
Cant feel love, we kneel stand and sit the fuck up, for what?
Echoic maemory fades faster than
Sensory deprivation drives us crazy
Aint lazy or depressed but I request a quick death
Cause in the depth of whats left , I saw your soul
And it crept to my neck like a vampire
To sire more hollow value structures cock-sure and ball heavy
Sagging low I strip you of your operationalizations
But youd never know the difference
Indifferent to the fact that I been fucked by my brother
And I been fucked by the cops
I dont want a support group, I just want it to stop
But its back to the lab of swirling ANOVAs , Damn.
Psychology burnout be the worst part of no love.

BABYLON
(kalamka/west/ampu)
(c)2000 Deep Dickollective, LLC

NEVER EVER EVER TRUST A RAPPER WITH DREADLOCKS
THE RED AND THE BLACK AND THE GREEN STUCK IN A DEADLOCK
NEVER EVER EVER TRUST A RAPPER WITH DREADLOCKS
UJIMA ,KUGICHAGULIA, NIA IN A HEADLOCK

G Minus:
C'mon boys git yer muscles big to the beat that I complete
with the vocabulary component I know you want it
microphonic devices are ignited
as per the nisus which descended from heaven and is priceless
in a comparison with any other thang on this earth,
or in the one that follows.
Be the bastard son not of high birth
therefore they call me Ralowe although
it may be possible they call me that
because my natural is super unusually embued
with energies which causes stars to fall in on they selves.
Appalling phenomenon being drawn from hell-flame.
Fireballs hang. Brimstone intone the name.
Calligraphic and dignified this nigga tend to spit with pride.
Slide hard to this. D to the D to the C.
Marvelous chi of a king if you feel what I mean.

25percenter:
I works in Zion/ tho some wanna thinks it Babylonian/
comin in/ th Telegraph Ave. repository of diva glory/stud girl story
fifteen year ole sophomore at the Castle/ getting hassled
for sensibilities that make sense to her skin
nose sniff, fingertips feel for la femme/ heart still
pumps red crimson/ her ashy elbows ruff from scuffs
wit wannabe emcee homophobes on some menage mission
wishin ta catch pices kissin both swimmin upstream
yin ta yin/ and yet they want dem fig in
stick a prick in/ naw nig!
jah why dem no let me peoples live to live/
25 heart strings attracted to baritone tone scats
blacqueer than black
cuz one early morn, in 72, me was born like dat
whats yo izm?
judgment against those who bent to bend a different way than you joint
dont build infinities, just negates the point
bass akward logic spent interceptin nationalisms
schizms of sexuality that didnt even exist in Af-antiquity
free-spirit, freedom of expression
but somebodys gotcha
stressin/ and why?
Your mental limits limit nothin more-less than ya spirit
reflected in ya lyrics/ G.O.D. cultivates L.O.V.E for self
so erewhere I posture fa dollars be Zion
boychilren in skirts/ tomboys wit scuffs from dirt/spirits hurt
I help to heal with zeal by bein self to self
bump what another wanna do wit him monkey
her dugout, hip, booty or mouth
my deep dic swing from limb to limb like Tarzan
but with nappy napps tho
and a blakk man/ negritude this string of metaphors
like Fanonian holy wars against colonialists/ th ish!
activist rap cat propositionin queer rebs
to grow fros and dreds to intimidate white house gates like F.O.I/
my kin be lesbo, drag queens, hetero, and bi
reverse th direction of th boom bye-bye
without resortin to tit for tat
stand strong lil ones, me gats guns
spits rounds of verbage against haters
Zion is Mariposa luv strong chek ya data
dem my twenty-five cents out til later

chorus

Pointfivefag:
whats the meaning of demeaning me
im tired of you yo/flowing flows
throwing bow tied bean pie lies
captured
caught up on tapes/bought up by chumps you gamed
silly willie lump lump
caught up in your rapture/that bastards still your pastor after
validating rapist in his paper sales
and claiming my fairy tales fractured and backwards
as I go wo/man to man
with peter pansex pan african
black nationalist ass crack snack cracker attractions
attacking your Actual Facts/ X factored factions
fractions caught up in my everyday actions
Pointfive equal to your real satisfaction
but im not satisfied
Asante Sanitized Molefi retractions mollified
The odd body politicking bard/I got tired of your god
Making me scared preparing me to spare my Rod Steigered
staggering bleeding
stabbing faggots in the name of Jesus
and the bloood done signed my name
spilling from gonads/and from dads radicalhomohalf-a-fag lad
jizz with the jist Onanistic uncletom soundbombing
always booty/I be THE Fruit of islam giving alms
while my Palm Pilot was all thumbs
I Come at Night out of spite
I jack with my left hand/Massaging the Blackman to babble-land
a nebulous existence/I assist my sisters
fiisting they sisters to the wrist in
brothers rubber gloving ass slappiing
twisting in the wind/ii begin again
youre fretting/ hetros sweating and flipping
through they missolette and wishing
there was something /anything there to prepare you
for your mission /Christian Hindu Muslim Jew
popping shit Coptic Hebrew Israelite Issue
now Im bout to get in you
babbling on /say you god is with your pew
your head of dreads is boxing rocks
im bout to rock this box o tissue

chorus

RHYTERS RETREAT
(West)
2001 Deep Dickollective, LLC

Pointfivefag:
Once upon a time there was a RapFaggot
After becoming tired of the conundrum and humdrum
Of Bling-Bling
He decided to cipher-sweep
And now the Rhyters Retreat
And Now the Rhyters Retreat

high tides push my pen when im in Marin rhytin/ ciphering with boylovin brothas crazy enlightenin/ melodic beats flirt with triphoptic harmonies/ reverse numero ascendance, breaker 321 and back to 3/ we be hardened thick skinned niggas/ ya never figured my crotch grab was an indexical figure of speech that make chefs run to th kitchen marinate to my release and beat they meat/ I be th 25percenter nasty rhyme freak/

we pause for the blaqueer cause, cuz we claim its Renaissance/ star gazin from the Mission to Mars/ so what? you seen me in a gay bar/ well guess the wuc fhut/ well I saw you there too with your whole crew/ flirtin with the likes of a tranny you thought was femme lesbian/ didnt notice th huge hands, the adams apple? yeah right! you thespian!/ I chek Black Nationalists and rainbow coalitions/ intersectin cats in-between is what the revolution been missin/ I gots Ts fightin disease for possession of me/ how Im goin be scared of glocks you pops G? my Crixivan enhanced structure protects this flesh like armor/ post some other compost fuckin farmer/ my rhythmic sound bits raise nipple-tits like a snake charmer/ wind instrument to circumvent your heterodrama and racist church bombers/ tongue twist THIS in ya lip comflama for a second/ im a rap faggot and thru wit mic checkin/ Im a rap faggot and thru wit mic checkin.

chorus

verse was given to me by birthright/ to use the mic to carry the torch of Essex, Baldwin, Langston, Marlon/ I am the son beckoned by th sun to drop some and raise up sons, you gets none/ me divisible by 25 divisible by myself divisible by I is one is one is one is ONE/ no need for Florida recounts unless ya dumb/ you left wit crumbs of dreadlocks breakin at the tips when this tongues blazin/ why must the preachers son be so amazin?/ the first born disciple sliding sweet tongues round Saturns cypher/ unscramble that ramble if you decipher/ galactic rings reverberate reverberate reverberate at the clash of my baritone/ I cause static on ya metrodome microphones from my 98th and Bancroft home/ Why battle you when I done already crushed two of ya clones?/

this junction really recommends some ole confunkion, function, mathematical and scientific derivative conjugating grammatology prolific/ so you a crack fiend? then crack that verse before ya sniff it/ used to be in DC but decided to hit it and get a lil more pacific/ dig it?/ like that? blacqueer than black/ cuz you said I didnt look like that/ I piece wars with your metaphors/ simplistic lyricist, let me yawn and stretch/ you bore politics like Gore/ I snore through your lyrical war/ and ya dumb like the son of old Bush pushing played out fallacies/ 25percenter up for candidacy/ mic check comin direct whose next?/ slave name Timothy West, check the breath

chorus

OFF THE HOOK
(ampu)
2000 Deep Dickollective, LLC

Stop referencin' your prick and stuff!
It's an icicle cold world and you need to zipper your stick up
before my snickerbar hiccup nuclear nougat
on your fubu shirt if you flirt further before
your fallow brethren or allow severin' on the spot:
it's your preference whether or not.
Movin' on you little breeder motherfuckers mobilizin'
holdin' my holy huevos your bro had tongue-tied
trying to braid pubic hair like you don't need air!
Stop sayin' you the shit before I pack you, black!
Stop brownie-squirtin' the virtual or I'ma hurt you!
I'm the real deal McNeil Lehrer still here like Gaynor gay boy.
Put you on bloopers getting' swooped on by poofters schooled in
breaking your buttcrack up backwards as if Act Up in the 80's.
Hey ladies, I'ma stay soufflein' your third rate hustle
til I hurt a muscle. Unlikely.
On the way back to work from lunch
feel like acting like a motherfucking fool,
walking through a crowd of students and slappin they asses
sayin', "You can do it! Stay in school!'
You may refer to me however you like.
This nigga havin' no illusions when I'm on the mike.
I be the figga singin' wrong on this here love song.
Pause for the gladiator lustre on the chest of the
skater rushin' west so invested in pedestrian aesthetics.
Watch what you callin' this you flawed closeted
misunderstood woodgrain flaming fecal deposit

(G Minus/Mitsu dialogue)

'Minus' mean one fag less,
fresh off the gurney, returning,
funk-avengin', extra engine in the trunk,
unleashing shurikens for all the punks you've beaten!
Mad as Mother Earth's temple tensin' the peninsular
something seismic to keep the mike lit
like some torches chasin' heretics!
My therapist told me to tear yo' shit up! Nigga, what?!
Buck your silly poonstruck fool structure up
out the saloon for many moons.
Get my money or I'ma 'shroomcloud your room while
you pull out on my glossy fashion spread.
Natty and nappy natural on the head won't dread.
And hellraiser you to the bed. Like I said.

VAXICRAN (The D/DC Song)
(kalamka)
(c)2001 Deep Dickollective, LLC
4x:
a spoon full of sugar

4X:
warm night/cant sleep/too hurt/too weak

Im asking you to chill nigga
stop and drop your pretense/we cannot make sense
of why you need context and descriptions of prescriptions filled
at Walgreens the Rite Aid might aid
His illness be stilled/by a course of horse pills
sitting on his windowsill
and a will like G. Gordon/see its important that I holla
from Low A to the North lawnday
Dollars be collared
greenbbacks blacks and reds
heads backwards on the actual facts
my norm of snowstorms/now warm Decembers
find me reminding to remember
bruh did you take your meds?
best to rest and stay in your beds
he resists as niggas wanna twist raps
bout busting caps in faggots with naps
I feel trapped by my dreads/running laps
on the treadmill quickens
as the sick get sickened around me
while everybody in the ads are smiling
liverfailure,edema drymouth
and palpitations are miles away/as are the days
when I spoke in codes
speak and spell of weakened T cells and viral loads
inflections euphemistic /of infections opportunistic
wackness abounds around your sound of blackness optimistic
the fact stands that man and woman
in the land of interplanetary tax bracket cant hack it
thought that you could beat it that untreated stomach cancer?
think that Vaxicrans the answer?
your wife is calling JoJo dancer/you a gogo dancer
and nothing can stop your body/part of me is scared to party
so I hand job and knob slob the hotties
as fantasies of a man and me/seem to be less problematic
than my need to suck the skin off
Ive been offered and proffered by you
youre dreaming /seems you bit off more
than you had the teeth for
cause I dont fake/at the grand lake state lake and lakeshore
core regimen choked down/to clown a jungle of fungal spores
pneumocystitis phlebitis and more lying
Klaus Nomi dying on a 12 city tour
hoping we dont open no more doors for
of course coping entails roping in your notions
that D.dc be the source of your angst
thanxs for the mammaries
and the mammymade milk of your ilk
when im bustin up your party
youll feel my steeltoed silk
forreal tho?
the lab saiid Im negative/but im not positive
what have I got to give cause Glaxo Wellcome said it? to bring it
I tie a red ribbon round my dingaling

sing it

in the most delightful way.....

THE AH-AH (feat. ALICE and DOUG E)
(kalamka/west/endamne/ampu/eglin/gaddis)
2000 Deep Dickollective, LLC

Alice Intro:
Salud
Me nom c'es-c'est-c'est Alice
le Kitchen
jour present 25 percenter
G Minus, Pointfivefag
D-D-D-D-D-D-D Doug E
oui, le DDC/oui
avec le Ah-Ah/Ah-Ah, Ah-Ah

chorus:
the ah ah/ emcees will die to be st st st st stars/
can talk about me, but do you know who you are/
before you go far, you gotta stumble, st st stutter, slip/
thats the ah ah, th ah ah.....

25percenter verse:

as a x flex n n next rrrhyme stutter/
I slice soft marginal margerine emcees like bbbb butter/
this is some undercover, underground, understood DDDD/C shit/
speedily Nestle chocolately qu qu qu qq q quick/
and if you dont like it you can d du dd du du dd duck my sick/
I was born a winner/ like we all was born sinners/
like if you f wit me Im gone get in ya/ like

pointfivefag:
Uh,mom, theres something you didnt know about me...guess whose coming to....... dinner)

25percenter!
just a mortal pppredicament sometimes hard to swallow/
do you do re me fa fa fa follow/
th september snow on the foreclosed tomorrow/
the unexpected death and th s subsequent sorrow/
ill shit happen to good pppp people/
and sometimes good books and movies never ever see see see see sequals
some people never gets paid what they equal
equality overrated denied non-redeemable
the ah ah, a metaphor for emcee stumbles and stutters and obstacles
emcee sweet pickles wanna get dills
no man is perfect, even when we rock this joint,
move this crowd/ we miss the pp point if we just ll loud/
intentionality of words spoken with ill intent
leave limbs broken, cracked, bruised, bbbbb bent
as well as the flexing suspecting tale tale heart
and its my part to break the cycle
of cyclic punk emcees being bbbbbbb brain hollow
disrespectful and bigoted what you say today tt trails you tomorrow
where you gg go ya shadow follows

g Minus:

b-b-b-boydhisattva n-n-nah negro
you know can't get nada backtalk all
cacographical write gay-gay-game tight mike medicine
aw shit he said it again
as juiced-j-j-just a kid who sprung /shhhhitting egg foo yung
w-w-wait w-w-when you w-w-walk fast
I need to talk slowly/my balls need a go-go-goalie
in su-su-sume-su-summary scooped him out
at the m-m-mission valley rock company
he was bitchin' singein' off my highbrows ready made
concrete cr-cr-crackin' hyperextended my tendon off the first sentence
cr-cr-cr-crudding gr-gr-gruff gr-gr-grafitti artist turn
gr-gr-graf-fetti artist superstar
duh-duh-duh-dusty duh-duh-duh-danger stolen game soul
for slang barbar-bargaining margaret mead
villainous tr-tr-trunk-tr-trill within
my still unpronouncible t-t-tetra-trinitrotetra-toluol in my poop
duh-duh-defense call on the proof seem to say I'm fly mean you
w-w-wu-w-w-woodyallen?-wha-?-
naww-w-wanna go in my wing or where I'm dwellin' at
you-you-you could take me to hell and back
as he flexed his felon stack lateral obliques crack
over-over-over-overly long pick up lines
I wrote st-st-st-stuck down my throat no motive
but the motive but the motive
don't want your fr-freedom-fr-fr-freaky A-B-S traction
meanwhile stylish perfection made me cry at his inflection
r-r-rigomortis c-c-c-corpse
unearthed in c-c-c-corridors
c-c-c-corrupted no p-p-p-p-p-p-p-purpose

Doug E:

We doin' more than gettin' blunted now
It's Doug E and I-I been waiting for a session
He say-say-say he straight
I say I pimp-pimp so I wait
Till he reach for my zi-zip/I flip-flip
My pretty brown dick (ow)
falls out with a flobble wobble
The nig-nig-nigga-nig-nigga starts to swallow
Three-out-of-five straight cats suck a mean dick
A real thug'll look ya in the eye when he lick
Ch-Ch-Ch choke on it
Talk about his girl, then burl
raise the fuck up, back to your world
The Ah-Ah , T-teachin', it starts to tell
Just how well you rock the bells/or eat a mean dick
The Ah-Ah , The Ah-Ah ,The Ah-Ah

pointfivefag:

As a star star star/from the alpha pha centauri
A far far lite shines /illuminating your fake hating style sa-sa-sarry
Who wil you blame? /will you play ap part to-mah mah marry
Beeef in your teeth/like tamales at a Stuart Anderson/whats the answer son
Outta place an outta pocket/bass ackwards/how you tack words together
How you pack verbs and tether/pah pah pah ticiples
Past and present/dont amply resonate/trampled at your current sample rate
Wack beats and 808 State/dah dah dopler/ray dah dah dah traits
Cumulous cloud cover charted
I be the loud lovers/catching wreck in the next/a pah pah partment
Smutty buttclapping/or it could be pussy fah fah farting
Its just as well/you can never really tell/who or what I be spah spah sparking
Jealous and envious tendencies/still your engine be started
Got you hard /sha shah shat ya wad/swat your twat a lot
The DeepDick chartered collusion/collision/brain abrasions/
abused with contusions
sharp shards/leave dah dah dark marks/all enlarged or as small as quarks
park your car/embark on the ark/on a lark
like Bah Bah Boston/in that flying guitar/or the Pharcyde
three album projects/broke with no focus or cah cah context
lost direction /shut out again/see you in the cutouts/the lah lah lah large bin

chorus

STRAIGHTTRIPPIN
(kalamka/west/ampu/eglin/gaddis)
2000 Deep Dickollective, LLC

25percenter:

lifting masks off the faces/since way back in the days
when hip hop was about poplocking, samples and storytellin'
my belly is swelling no respect for resurrecting introductory lessons
verses as discriminatory as standardized test-es-es
but never the best-es-es
predilections against Billboard charting ego boosts for loot
I be the 25percenter/the creme de la creme in your alphabet soup (ah-ah)
the foundation grounding the root/
and plus the babydaddy-babyboo
my flow is ebonically sophisticated translated grammatology for gangstas/
i be the heavy breathing stranger
brown baby in a manger born in '72
unpredictably but suitably here to entertain you
incantations of verbal sophistications is best when
not perpetuating gangsterism and pimpin/
check yo champagne sippin cause you be perpetually straight trippin'
step off the bananna peel/your rhymes are fruity and ya slippin
pull back the black curtain/say peace to the priest your rhymes have been forgiven
and all your constant fantasies of gangsterism aint got nobody shiverin'
time is tickin/ pointfivefag, get in 'em

pointfivefag:

Im overloaded with your information/saturated with your opinions
as boyloving brothers get covered so fast
in the stank ass smothering onions of your religion
but i be atheist saying this/you dont get the jist so you be saying
/my twist in the wind is indecision
ya as dumb as a box of rocks lady/
you rate played, fate faded as argyle socks in the late '80s/
im better/ whether leather, pleather pants,or taffetta
my rants leave your ass as massacred as passenger pigeons
you dodos is stoopid my troup be bourgie-boho post-Pomo Afro Homo group kid
timeless rhyming tireless through loops and souped shit
but youre used to mindless whoopty whoop shit from crews spineless so you missed me
yes, I'm a sissy and what does that mean to you?
youre awful concerned about what i do
for someone who dont wanna kiss me
at stake we got whether or not when chillin, im willin
to fake where the break in my wrist be
neck getting stiff to uplift gifts riffs that leave Christians extra crispy
Im laughin at this/as baffled Africentrists get misty
pissy with nifty black nation liberation songs
wack libations that rudely refuse to include me
I'm the W(Ron)g Karenga to fuck with/you stuck with me
cause D/DC,we always booty
you recall a night to remember/like so many '70's R&B grooves be
changing/strange low hanging fruity
/be rearranging duty to do me/ .2-5. 5, 2. to me

(youve made g minus very angry {go g minus go g minus!)

Gminus

I don't think you wanna know what I think about you
when I see those big words all inside your mouth, foo'.
After you threw my pseudonym on your tongue
you had to 've known that had me sprung.
Appears you're trying to come on to me/ We need to be clear on your honesty
or what's appropriate and go from there/
I know you care but, boundaries!/ Stop hounding me!
Go forth and pound the street. ??! Oh! Yeah! Now I see!
Fuck that bitch! I'm a hottie! /How now are you dogging me?!
In which process are you earning currency more valuable in this economy?
Let's give it a shot. Pull it out of your shorts/and let's see what you got/ and I'll be the court.
My eyes lock on your perplexity with sexy indifference in this pimpin'.
Fin'sta twist on these breeder ciphers like pipe cleaners
any which way you wanna rip shit dip shit
you can't outroll Olegba, a-hole! Tehuti-hoo!
Seduce the cutie in your crew with the usage of my views
who you though was /you thought was/ immune to this hot sauce.
Everything you see is fucking mine by birthright-of-way.
Focussing my words in to a ray to make you die today.
You gonna go see the Ohlone, homey.
I'm your friendly suckafree self-esteem merchant.
You see the future with two of my CD's playing the clean version.
Unlace my shoe a little loose to blow the whole transaction.
Pages missin is elope / with my dope topics to the tropics
is so to say plagerism I'm fatalism
to those who / hate description to evade gay collision
fall to a halt straight trippin'.

(and now the diva stylings of 25percenter)

25percenter:

somebody done laced the battle rhymes with crack juice and Ecstasy
dont ever let me smell your nasty breath next to me
claiming you sustain an even flow when you cut loose,
yo Jamba has yet to test a detox boost for wack rhyme addicted crews trying to get juiced
your flows non-addictive/just cocky doodle doo
just a Tweety bird trying to rhyme the hens to roost
claiming your rhymes are tight when ya geometrically obtuse
mimiciking gestures and pronunciations of some other brother's
for the fourth time/i cant be your lover
cause you repeatedly big uppin' muhfugs
who make about as much sense as a footglove
stuttering, sputtering uttering some crazy nonsense
and claiming its some newshit about as redundant as ancient hieroglyphics
smothered like turkey wings under a big biscuit
puking cause ya sick kid/heterosexist misogynist
you need to take some of that pink shit and go sit
on a toilet bowl/Pepto Bismo/hip hop ill-shit control
let the truth be told/
ego inflation constipation ya hella backed up/
and your rhymes are perpetually F'ed up
fagdissin is a has-been/now let me stop rhymin and go find my boyfriend/or a lesbian

trippin.
D/DC breaking up cyphers while you still ad libbing
straight trippin say peace to the priest,
your rhymes have been forgiven..

GRAMMATOLOGY
(ampu/kalamka/gaddis/west)
2000 Deep Dickollective,LLC

chorus:
grammatically gifted
collaborative ebonics like chronic be addictive
our philosophy be grammatology
that dignify the black and proud
say it loud!
How? How? How? How?

G Minus:

I wasn't fuckin' witchoo. Now you got my cutlass drew
crushin foo's such as you busted bruised;
hush and view structure's true
grudging pseudo-slugproof ruggedness: Ralowe Ruffshot!
Now the mike's in trinitro-trouble!
Recite a couple recondite double entendre
triple quadruple stupid googleplex of excessive text.
Trainwreckage and detritus. All you satyr-haters upset with us.
Lecherous. Spread your lexicon
I supplex through your poo-poo spout without provo.
Hop on your mobe, touch your toes
and booty-bally-hoo
a bourgsie bohopostpomoafrohomo
to letcha know, like fo-eleventy.
Most heavenly. One less than seventy.
Rap fucked my mouth raw
and said next time he'd use a saw.
Watch the ill builder hammer solidly
all grand grammatology.
Ralowe-anthology. Knowledge all you see.
G Minus down your spine in the bindery
maquilladora and free senoras fleein' over the border
to recapture Sea World. This is D/DC, girl.
Karenga-tang slang hurl barrels of petrol to oil
my Fillmoe slim jimbo through your cracked window
as if I lack mental acuity, as far as usage, tooking whoops!
taking a memory loss on my favorite word I used to toss around
RE-in' as my ex at the unisex.
Reluctantly sucked into starting a conversation
with his replacement
I'm the coon from whom Doom got his doctorate
Judging how you're cockstruck now, ain't it obvious?
For sheezy. Leaving sentences deceased
with my No. 2 sword drew
I'm just happy to be that release for you
Release for you
Release for you

25percenter:

I scatter through the paginas
like a collegiate bilingual speedreader
Check ya belly grumble for ya
bound to choke on the food for thought I feed ya
Rhymes so abstract that iambic pentameter
be personified like an amateur
Words and verbs disturb
when they be definitively obscure for sure
In case ya forgot
I gave birth to discursive verse with metaphor wars
Memory breath like Yoda
cuz I abide by what his old ass advised and I use the force
Check the breath for funky dialect,
take the next step, is that affect or effect
Analogously blessed, like my lyric make mathematically equivalent
a pointfive-tit to half a breast, YEP!
Grammatology translated into masterful, magical realism
Like Audre Lorde and Anzaldua
activate postcolonial schism
Ebonic flows simplify the minds third eye,
I call it interiority
Niggas dream they can understand half of what I mean,
complex called inferiority
No doubt Im always making up words
consider it country ass conjugation
Old rhymes like Latin become dead language:
lexicon stagnation
Now heres a little nasty, nasty mastabatory story
written as ego glory
Ima pass the mic like oracles pass riddles
cuz this is a third of the story
Philosophical mind boggle
laced with a lil bit of Good Times (Damn, Damn, Damn!)
An ambedex, unapologetic about the terse verse,
I hi-jacked Websters dic with my left hand (right hand)
with my left hand (right hand)
With my left hand (right hand)

Pointfivefag:

I got the methodology, etymology
Word origins encouraging incorrigible
Rhyme dirigibles
Smidgins of pidgin
Within the ridges and curves
I got the swerve
I serve the bitchniggering herbs
And wack toys with Blakkboy
A factoid fag-boy
Destroying your annoying story deploying
I tell it like it was
It used to be so simple
Just a say what?!?
Instead of all of that break it up, shake it up
Tense terse tense you love
Line your pockets corroded
(adam) Corrollas putting on the gloves to show it
aint nothing to it, aint nothing for it
cause if you pull it, I tow it
and dont you blow it and if you do it
dont think its cause you already know it
in the back of your mind, designs that youre blind to
one of those other kinds finds you
ties that you bind your rhymes to
come unwind
monkeyshining like a junkie tying off
near the fear of your (cough cough) first cough
the hard will eventually go soft
I write about niggas biting Tigers
But not even liking golf
Sporty Joe Calisthentic now you in it to win it
Sporty Joe Calisthentic and you still a jocksniffer
But Ill rock witcha for a minute
Just pretend its not happening son
Plain brown rapping, and one hand clapping is done
With my prose I be the Woman Called Moses Gunn
Under smothering onions
Off Maxwell, the real street from the Hill Street
I Kiel Martin to kill Martins Kielbasa
Shule, Boule , IPE Andare Uhuru Sasa!
For Jews Falasha
And Denny McClain
And hot angry big booty Ethiopian waitresses
In Jack London Square
You stare and watch and youre beginning to claim
That my greatness is overrated, overstatement
Latent, and laying there
like gravy on a Salisbury Steak
a pool congealed with fillers and no feelings
but you eat me any day
on GP on any tray
cause Im cheap, and Im greasy
and there aint no other way
aint no other way
aint no other way
aint no other way

its grammatology nigga
aint no other way..

MARIPOSA PRE-LUBE
(west/ampu/kalamka/goff/gaddis)
(c) 2000, 2001 Deep Dickollective, LLC

G Minus:
Future superstar larvae. Caterpillar.
Feelin sad about the anti-imperialist
fear and desiring inside the tripirate abdomen.
It happens in stages.
Counter-hegemonic. Clown and getcha.
Splitcha pupa to the truth o' shit.
Rhythmic. Post-chrysalis stylist.
Post-pomosexual. Lo and
behold. Only rap in your asses.
Visitin'. Lickin' it clean.
You shitlessly scary witness birth,
no Mary, of the earth's most powerful
counter-hegemonic, instead of chronic,
oxymoronic love in hell.
Cocoon shell. Boom. Crack the womb.
Mariposa posse exposed to oxygen postin' the global axis.
So anti-fascist. Rap faggots.
Pull fly out the maggots on the lynch corpse
on the hang with the worst stench on cologne.
Original. Unkillable. Don't cross the game.
Mariposa posse slang.
Stop looking at me strange.
Mariposa posse slang
stop looking at me strange

25percenter:
(stop looking at me strange)
we are daring our tongues to be rebellious, shameless, rhythmic
essex incantations filled with holy spirits
boy loving banji-boy emcees endear it
society fear it and never ever wanna get near it, gay lyric
righteous rappers allude to Babylonian gunclappers
wewearthmaskers and sodomite fudgepackers
my quest inverts the question back atcha
how you gonna be pro black unity when we excluded from the data
the judgemental pedastal on which blind men wobble
false alters constructed by disoriented role models
spinnin the bottle, hopin for a phat chance like lotto?
flex th wrist dice shake ya luck push roll the numbers follow?
excludin me got hands motionin get out like Apollo
sandman congradulations cause you sucked th whole flow
hip hop is a little bit more deterministic
like the hate some spit, flip, deliberate and bigoted
deadly like my silence, spineless
when my interception of hateful epitets go unchecked
no longer are we vexed,
our time has arrived NeXT chapter
homiesexual rappers,
raise up to be phatter,
reclaim our love for bein emcees
despite the fact that at times it seemed
hip hop did not wanna love me, wanted to kill me
called me fag and sissy
slur words absurd bitch-nigga blurb
we dare to drop shit, shake lil segregated boxes up like rainbow nerds
the interdiction that claimed our emceeing was fiction
got met with no friction,
ya jokes bout wrist bendin and lispin and switchin
same ole same ole ole false tradition
we dare to cipher decipher contraditions of that
we are not large men, yet we are phat
and we are here to stay
and we goin rhyme all day
Mariposa mastermouths lmno pay
demanding visibility, nigga respect due
(cause)we are standing to have our say
Mariposa big up!

LSP Lightskindid Phil/osopher
queer boys doing hip hop
is a revolutionary act (act!act!)
queer girls doing hip hop
is a revolutionary act

Pointfivefag:
Factor in retractions from the pupa crackin
Pubococcin be lockin/smooth as hell slackin
As you smack hoes/and slash hoes with exactos
I hear it cause Im there to prepare it
You think Im scared to walk Lake Merritt?
No Ive inherited Zerit Ive wished for
While you were balling and calling out fish for
The twists on at six with more
Get huh, smash huh! break huh!
there be no love within ya /save for Ninjas and Xaviers
out house saviors questing questioning
our self self deprecating behavior
You put your demons in me /cause you hate huh
Here, at the pier,in the club popping gum
With no glove making shake it up in a trailer
You trailed her/to her apartment /started wailing
Assailed her/cause you thought no one would save her
In time my writes ka razor/be done gave ya a line and shaved ya
sCraping to stave off the young uns hunger pains
And Siriusly craving Rainbow Flavas and trading
Back to the mammymade, handmade homemade
Bisquick dissed quick Is spit of writs ridic and re-cockulous
Corrollin high pro for ho strollers
Kicks for tittylickers and fruity bootknockers
Forsaken, like Rustin, busted to the back
Of black facts/Im starting, on the verge Gerber Hart attacks
Like stacks of Polyamerase and crack-laced Canadian bacon
You faking, you bit the Gs and tasted whinin
The breach in the myelin sheathin your spine
Its time to bang your synapse/when my wry wrymes fire next time
You signify, monkey,and stutter stammer
Clamoring ,dammit Ill bite ya
When you figure it out
Decide its alright to dig my planet
Ill be butterfly

chorus
ad lib shouts/ fade

OXYMORONICON
(ampu//goff/kalamka/west)
2000 Deep Dickollective LLC

Chorus:
Can I get an oxymoron on (word is bond)
Can I get a contradiction on (to the breaka breaka dawn
That's the short-long of it
D/DC be like sex before the foreplay
Everyday and all day


25percenter

I be oxymoronic/like bourgie niggas rhymin' ebonics
like an unspoken phonic/a robot without bionics
like leafless trees/like atheist god belief
like silent speech/or an unbelieved creed
a downer called speed, or unfertile seed
like vegetarian meat or yummy-ass beets
I be a homeless real estate agent with a deed
Getting high with a soggy ass blunt, nigga please
Gregory Hines without his tappers
Common-folk being Okay with gay rappers
Toronto without Vince and the Raptors
Im the pimp daddy of the week afraid to pimp-slap ya
I defy dictionaries, and flex the index
I be the 25percenter like funky underarms fresh
Like a conformist rebel, like an angelic devil
Rhymes defy temporality like being on some before level
Next level Ill conjure up a short saga
A thirsty Mexican unable to say agua
Or a Star Wars with a skinny-ass Jabba
Me trying to get busy with your daughter or your mama


Pointfivefag:

I be a very/oxymoronic thing
like no swing in Harry Connicks singing
like a sedative tonic/
sip my lip balm psalm of calm panic
Im a steady and resolved manic/ Im a still heartbeat frenetic
Im a overheating cryogenic
like an earthbound Jetson/Im a shoelaced Stetson
like blown out dreads/on the heads of pacifist vets and
I be non toxic meds as i write to fight literary night sweats
in a separate session/Im a truthless confession
i digress though on topic/ Im a visionary myopic/
pepto that dont stop shit/you pop shit?
I plant my feet and dropkick/
Im a realized wish and hope to meet
a Muslim Hebrew Israelite Rosicrucian Greek Orthodox Irish Catholic Ethiopian Coptic
Im a public mystery systemic/ Im a citified yokel
Im a local pandemic/Im a loose fitting chokehold
Youre the steel band spastic/Im the Plastic Ono
Im the long time the wrong rhyme, the unspoken vocal
Im sans gimmicks and sales pitch/Im the non-itching histone
Im a functioning glitch/because I do not compute
Im a catalyst not triggering/ Im an analyst not figuring/
synapse not firing/ Im Richard Pryor not "niggering"
for an albums entirety/Im legalized piracy
and youre urgently urging me/ Im a grassroots counterinsurgency
I am unreal/like GoldenSeal/purging pee of impurities
i know with asssurety worrying/Im the dark that sends all the vermin scurrying
Im flurrying rhyme at a standstill/ I take my time hurrying fast
Im favors and flavor currying/Im an Indian with no caste
I am 4/4 jazz, I am a Rapper's Delight/with copyright for Grandmaster Caz
Im the bored inspiring the first fired to last


LSP The Lightskindid Phil/osopher:

I be oxymoronic like a Clotidian cataclysm
A trendsetting anachronism/ a Latter Day Saint without a mission
Im an elongated acronym
Im a church hymn or her sung by pious church bombers
D/DC be oxymoronic like a vegetarian Dahmer
If youre a baller you recognize my flow
I be that part of your subconscious that everybody know
I be kicking ugly beauty and lying truth
Like breathless respiration and sweatless perspiration
I be that comfortable irritation/cause Im a unified Black Nation
( A Salaam Alaikuum!) Oxymorons what?
When Im within myself I be effortless creation
Like a silent radio station, a disconnected realation
Giving you heartless palpitations as you enjoy joyless recreation
I be a coon show at a slave auction
You got me nervous and scared, but with no sign of caution
Flowing with that shy confidence, I bring that humble arrogance
2000 years of failed revolts have given me a revolutionary patience
I be oxymoronic like godfathering where no moms be
When Im with my boys I be a Jel-lo Pudding pop
In the mouth of Bill Cosby
put it in your mouth, wont you put it in your mouth?
Mmmm, and it taste good
I be a simple ethnic identity-
Fuck it I am Tiger Woods

25percenter:

I be oxymoronic like a friendly rival
Like a muhfuggin atheist bible, like the innocent being liable
I spit gift that be like solidified saliva
Like a penniless buyer, who didnt think Id try ta
Alliyah with a CD Ice Cold Like Fire
A babymaker who cant sire
My rhymes implode cyphers like actionless verbs
Sentences without words,magnet school without nerds
Somebody stupid censoring what the deaf heard
A potpourri smelling terd, an aquatic skybird
I list sensible as a bridged rift or an Indian Gift the chief dont even wanna F with
I make signs and be the motionless mime, currency without dimes
Notebook paper without lines , a brief moment without time
A sissy banji boy emcee like me writing dope ass rhymes

Chorus

Pointfivefag:
I did it all/I have no regrets

G-Minus:
Watch this figga slide up cool as hell.
You didn't see. Dead still. All the way live.
A little in here, absent-minded. Blinded.
Game recognize game walkin' away lame.
Queer actin'the same. Unclearly declare my name.
G Minus. Me: 2. Runnin for eternity. Still here.
Slidin'.

COLOGNE ON FUNK
(kalamka/west/ampu)
2001 Deep Dickollective, LLC

chorus:
You not supposed to put cologne on funk
unless you blessed with the spunk to be crunk
nostalgic thrift aesthetic prophetic Greg Brady dont hate me
for my cologne on funk
my cologne on funk
my cologne on funk

G Minus:
Always next, as if your neighbor. Untouchable flavor.
Stop bangin' on my fence.
How my nuts hangs depends on the wind of my fart.
Over in the trendy part. The skinny end of the chart.
No windows open on the BART.
Poor persons ran out by artists, artists ran out by corporations.
The world slowly worsens while paint gets on your apron.
Now, remember, that you clonin' the funk.
I ain't blowin' or nuttin'; I'm ownin' the junk
that's in the substance of your secular summit
that makes your clubbin' and your bubblin'
so roll your eyes and turn your nose up.
You know what? Bitch! From Bayview to Shinjukuu.
Forgive them Ralowe how they do just what I do.
Everybody wants to be a black homo.
Everybody wants to be Ralowe.
Broken elevator down for whatever pattern mode I'm holding in.
Once and for all, penultimate.
Mealy-mouthed heliotropic and needing to bend close to it.
I dress better than Shibuya moneydrinkers
who be smuggling Anglo porn and Northern Killa Cali chiba.
Better believe it's due to the inundation or racist gestalt
that everybody hates a fly nigga by default.
Muggin' down me shifty cause I wear clothes that fuckin' fit me.
Black Dot say it, now I'ma say it.
Black People, think outside the matrix!
Keep your style and content piled on something St. Elsewhere.
Ain't what Black is. Actor's contraction of isn't.
Not black with no vision. Dres and Mista Lawnge.
Head immeasurably strong. It's been seen before.
Many came by dayshine.
Your whole rhythm seems to need a better bassline.
Hyrbrids over purity. Irreconcilable duality in unity.
For surety.

Chorus

25Percenter:
my styles half skate punk half banji clunk for cologne on funk/
gotta spandex expand the memogram for 88 self/
rumpshakin ya rump/ doin the butt before it became a dance craze/
busta brown preferred shoe lace/
big brotha E sported half shag addict before th S-curl,
unfurled into high top fade gumby world/
dred evolution from the hair jeri/ scary
but thrift sto chekedy/ pants faded wit shirts buttafly collar
make the shorties holla/ Ill pay three twenty five for shirts
before th capitalists will my goodwill to make my dollar work/
but Im broke so I clash styles
anti-chronological post historical postin 60s bowties,
when told to dress fresh/ twenty five F.A.G. West/
P.K. in a church unearthin styles forgotten by nostalgic disco balls
refractin lou rawls and al green
the iron steam kill the wrinkles/ sprinkle old spice right
cuz I'm a southren nigga christ figure/
blessed afro medallions that rest cross my chest
Arkansas dirty dirty crunk for cologne on funk
my swell well bell bottoms flarin on pogos/
mos definitely dont work tho/ but be chilly when the wind blow
pic of 25 in the closet where clogs work/ wit Mexican style thrift store lace shirts
my arrested development was red-dirt/ and Thelma was fresh,
mike evans dress fresh, the son of Sanford was fresh
Rog was a cologne on funk god/ B.E.P. emerge peas out th pods
Duane knew what was happinin/ Reruns of negro fun to keep the hand clappin/
Willis patronized on Different Strokes but dressed fresh
25 east coastin from mid west natti crunkin to West postin mics for breath diction/
Blasin the cipher like anti-phixion
cypher stallin traditions/ D/DC g minus, Doug E., LSP, pointfivefag funky fresh/
all pass cologne on funk style test/ pick with Afro pick after glow stay soft fro
my neon rhyme sign spell S.O.L.O L-O
that's my cologne on funk....my cologne on funk

Pointfivefag:
I was the favorite man borne of David Sanborn
a Fool following Jools Holland hosting
boasting high posting/don't hate on late 80's east coasting
cruising Night Music Michelob/TV be on the chiffarobe
out it sounds dither the Lounge Lizardly funk
on John Lurie CD's and more await procuring at 1 800 44 CHUNK
gumption and a mind bothering/godfathering online functions
excluding your drunk uncle, Funches
he's Lunching on Funyuns and Crunch n' Munch
waking uo dopesick at 1/picking and flicking his bunions
youre stunned numb, and wondering where to run from
he and your peanut butter and Wonder Bread sloughing relatives
be giving the sum Toto/"Down in Africa"southernfried funkpie
disidentifying yo que puede este yo/Fillmore o Divisidero
so we roast with postPomoAfroHomo flows
White potatoes neckbones' quiver
at my liver and biscuit/nigger riverboat shows
cologne be bone through the nose posted noserings
posing in West Afrikan clothings
Conkaline next to Ankhs, anklets and toe rings
stankin rank , thankless/thinking you know things
shit, you aint fresh clown/where are your Calvin's?
Alvin Ailey was fresh/Toni Cade made it fresh/Sor Juana was fresh
for bombing mean 16th century feminist text predilections
when directions was "Bitch, best play that shit close to the vest pocket!"
I Rockit, and posit/ I'm a hypocrite flippin' shit
admitting I can't wish away my privilege/with incense a Gonesh
of mod quasi-African party parlor tricks it gets clearer
check your breath thick/choking through my smoke and my mirrors
invoking the near and dear to thee
or is it just Instant Funk ( I got my mind made up)
of Yemanja in a jelly jar yelling "I'm Jar Jar Binks!!"
trapped in a Brinks car jarring you back to reality in a blink
I done seen the way /to squash it
Car Washing with Jean Nate/and " ho' bathing in the sink

chorus