Cuetes and Balisongs

by Odessa Kane

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credits

released 21 December 2012
All tracks written by Odessa Kane

All tracks produced by Infinity Gauntlet

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Track Name: Chapter 6 Verse 19
San Diablo, SouthEast Spit
without my hood, my fam, I wouldn’t be shit
I’m speaking truthfully, this here is from the heart..
The year was 1978 that’s where we start
2 years later thought we escaped the slum..
From Tijuana, Mommy learned how to make cuisines out them crumbs,
and Poppy worked the nightshift
Aye yo it’s 2012 Poppy still works the nightshift..
That’s why my mic shift gears workin’ the graveyard while fools in reverse lyin’ bout hours on their timecards
Vanguard they call us
If anything we just reflectin’ what our OG’s taught us.
It was Know Soul, Orko, that Universe style
come weak at the Improv get you cursed out.
3 in the morning writing that shit though
Chapter 6 Verse 19 for my kinfolk.
Skin soakin’ in sweat spittin’ it OT.
Shit, if I don’ that’s disrespectin’ my OG’s,
Shit, that’s disrespectin’ the squad…I’m El Posolero puttin’ live MC’s in a cauldron…
You ain’t no pistolero you a fraud and are deserving of fileros carvin’ ego’s out my targets
See..for my people I’m a marksman
Chrome lined Ak, Kane’s aim is to sharpen.
Cuetes
&
Balisongs
Track Name: Payback
Aye load that shit Scatterbrain....bout ta clip these fools

Ayo Brain, where the f!$& they at? Point out where the demon is...
I'll take that trachea from him like, " you won't be needin this"
He ain't gon' say shit either, don't know why he payin for guest appearances knowin' i facelift features...
Graveshift keepers f$&! A spaceship to keep you need...
To have mastered flux capacitors and be in my passenger seat
Fluctuatin jigawattz anytime my pen bleeds
On a lowriderbike knockin trendy toyz off their ten speeds
We MC's of true upbringing screamin revolt
They fishin for them compliments but their hooks aint dope
Grab ya books, take notes, back to the audience
They not performin shit they just adding to my ambience
Army is the Civil War, calmly is how I roll up
I ain't dude with the mask when I spit...M.F'n Doom show up
Blow up in your ear, the shrapnel can't be removed
Let me see some documents, a ghetto pass, "this isn't you!"

"where'd you get these papers from?"
"nah, we can't let you through"

How you don't like us but your OG'z respect us?
You better show us more respect than this
Cause if I catch you in SD i'll be checkin you quick
And leave you crossed like i left X Y intercepts on ya wrists
Yes
I greenlit him, let my team spleen split him
Did him horribly, ugly
Left chlroform in his bubbly...
What we gotta do now?
Brain Scatter their remains
In a pattern of a labarynthian cage with no passageways of exit...
That's why we always stayin on that next shit
I really mean their neck our foot on their throat like a lead brick
Ungrateful dead shit, fools wrote me off
Til I rose from my crypt, I snapped... I totaly flipped
I vocally clipped into fools like a headhunter from Ifugao
Filipino guillotine holder, Mexicano voodoo child
Aimin at imperialists, bangin on feudalism...
My likeness of Lapu Lapu, we aint fitted for True Religions
Cause fools claim truth but they usually false
So im in city halls, with an uzi, red kufi, holdin my balls
With my left hand risen in the air...
This is for my folks who ain't here...
Kabataang MakaBayan we stay strapped,
Red flag holdin. Brown People. Payback.
Track Name: Anastacio
My People up in arms…
not just cause we emotional, we strapped; mentalities wrapped in bombs.
Palms calloused, the cause?
Fighting these racist laws, I’m speaking in regards
to SB-1070 at large.
and ya’ll been charged with readily profilin’ cosignin’ a Klansman, wolf breed in a lambskin..
Ya’ll don’t wanna see our advancement
but use us for cheap labor, that’s how you cheatin’ your neighbors huh?
Steep laborers, money don’t equal the work put in
It’s not hard to put into words but if..
you don’t understand…it’s far worse than takin a paycut
if we always starvin’ how we expectin to get our weight up
Hunger strike? nah, this is how the hungry strike
cause companies cut benefits like they don’t live the comfy life.
Meanwhile, the exploitative avoid the native cries
Avoided the screams of Anastacio in them Dago skies…
Beggin’ border patrol agents don’t take his life…
Freedom is priceless is that why he payed whit his life?
It’s not that. I figure it’s the racist in em…
That night combined with a sour taste of venom..
dead them if I had the chance
cause i’m sick of my People dying due to a blatant attack on the working class..
Plus, I got an issue managing my anger
I’m this close to disclosing their f@#$in’ addresses to strangers…


(Chorus)

These snakes gotta pay..
Cause these snakes get away with mass murder, genocide everyday
2x
And it adds up, to all my folks who feel me.. now put your hands up
Cause the Cause don’t die, the effect they gon’ feel it all that racist noise they keep bangin’ We gon’ kill it.


This is a tribute to the slain.
Attribute it to the abusers of power
Cause the good die usually when feudin’ with cowards.
Cowards love drive-bys, talk indirectly,
act gangster on the internet.
Exactly.
Them the type to kill like Mehserle, attack me while i’m cuffed up…
Face down, put my medulla in sweat..
the darker the hue of my skin,
the darker the future get
carcasses left imprinted with an officer’s size 10
Racism knows no end, so my 44 spin
Shots out of control like the coastal wind
at the Popo’s skin
Not all of them is bad?
But a lot of them ain’t angels
I told you on dangerous grounds about the nefarious angles
Burial sites set cause of the stereo types
Wet youth with real life super soakers none loc as
the police is that odious stench in the air?
But you can’t blame it on the chemtrails it was already there.
We livin in a Napolean complex and the walls is shrinkin…
What the fuck was ya’ll thinkin?


(Chorus)

These snakes gotta pay..
Cause these snakes get away with mass murder, genocide everyday
2x
And it adds up, to all my folks who feel me.. now put your hands up
Cause the Cause don’t die, the effect they gon’ feel it all that racist noise they keep bangin’ We gon’ kill it.
Track Name: Niño de la Tierra
You untrustworthy bastard…
couldn’t make them lies sound more believable before you had them mastered, huh?
Usin’ raps just to glorify those petty crimes
To make shit move quicker than Filipino assembly lines…
you would compromise your art form?
you would degrade your own mom for em?
See, now I’m torn yall...
Cause should I show him mercy or give him the Black Palm phone call?
I know ya’ll...
would much prefer that I go off on a tangent
Send him an e-mail with his mom screamin on the attachment
But…
that’s a younger Kane
nowadays, I got me some youngins under my brain usin’ knowledge to cure their hunger pains.
I much prefer that
So when they look in the mirror it’s a soldier that stare back…
Highly intelligent, relevant, disciplined…
Got left as aliens so I fight for the rights of Mexicans.
You damn right, we want our land rights.
Look how our land’s left.
For that, it’s black eyes when i land lefts and rights.
Landslides.
Shanti’s built on hope…
only to find that our system still thrives off dope..
plus the Pope? F$%& the pope…
How’s he rockin’ gold when his children bare footed slangin’ chiclets on the road?
Momma po, Poppa smoke with a culebra
but you gon’ hear my cry... Niño de la Tierra.

(Chorus)
True, True, True Niño de la Tierra
True, True, True Niño de la Guerra


I’m the Cucuy with slanted eyes..
my gun’s la llorona when she cries she rings the ears of the antiChrist.
That’s for sacrificing young lives.
It’s unwise to utter lies when your forked tongue is tied and you ain’t once tried to divide that pie even…
That’s why i’m not leavin’ until the dajjal’s (antichrist in arabic)
jawline leanin’
Appalled how demons crawl out from the cement..
Cutthroat game, me and my squad don’t play prevent…
We speed up defense
Intercept your signal.
That’s brimstone, molotov’s through FBI windows..
Get caught up. Out of bounds.
Pick 6 triple, get 6 sickles through all of yall devil’s thick temples.
If it offends you, i’ll end you within a crescendo
of bass, treble, levelin’ brain scape syndromes.
La llorona snatch coronas from a fallen king…
The echo reminds you…beware of who you following.


(Chorus)
True, True, True Niño de la Tierra
True, True, True Niño de la Guerra


I’m the Cucuy with slanted eyes..
my gun’s la llorona when she cries she rings the ears of the antiChrist.
You ain’t heard that before have you?
Get burned by a book of matches or the Book of Matthew..
Stained auditory walls of the dajjal got his jaw droppin
After this his message gon’ drop 5 octaves.
I’ve adopted fiber optics to transmit
Echoes of Revolt through a cyber infinite bandwidth…
the Gauntlet land shifted entire brain scapes…
that’s where i consciously plant seeds to rewire mainframes.


(Chorus)
True, True, True Niño de la Tierra
True, True, True Niño de la Guerra
Track Name: Pancho Bonifacio
I rock with that Civil War Gang
Why? Cause they illa than
E.R. patients with bullets lodged deep inside their livers
Lord forgive us, our enemies hadn’t figured tho
that you can’t take from the dead unless you breakin bread.
Like if dudes ain’t give Jay Dee’s Ma Duke’s that scrilla
then we ain’t tryin to hear no shit that sounds like J Dilla’s
sallallahu alayhi wasallam
seldomly i’m seen
but when I do it’s overwhelming to your team
Plus all that back talk gon’ get your ass chalked..
if not that, have your ass sniffin’ bath salts off bloody ass asphalt.
Crash course, results usually end bludgeoned…
Ball point plunged in his head’s dungeon… left his pineal gland sunk in.
Tops, Brain, Kane
you know what that rep like?
Tetsuo, Akira, Kaneda blastin clown’s from that red bike…
Get your head spiked, in slow mo…
Back to Neo Diego with mo’ flow.
I attribute that to being homegrown.
This that 619 chrome thrower mechanism
A Filipino guerilla with a Zapatista’s vision
I’m like Pancho Bonifacio, no machismo
Francisco’s listo
for both struggles I go beast mode.
You submittin’ songs still?
I’ve submitted to Allah’s will.
If life’s a game then guess who's got the cheat codes?
I tell ya’ll they gon’ want my uniform red like D. Rose...
Track Name: Briarwood
Kane on a mission.
Especially with 2 children and Wife carrying my 3rd..
my vision different.
It’s bigger than me now.
It ain’t just stlyin’ off the dome to be known for my wit..
I’m trying to disembowel the game just to see how deep shit get.
Up in the chest with a deeper purpose I fit words and insert knowledge when it’s needed…
a certified linguist.
Certainly, you heard of my linguistics…and if you haven’t
It’s most likely due to your appreciation of the average.
Murder & Madness in my Kenwood when I step in hoods…
Track 7 on repeat.
You see what I’m dealing with?
I roam the earth with some savages
My blood line surrealistic
So deep that we distant but we rooted.
Plus we bearing life from the branches of our music
And the acoustics stem from a hallucinogenic gem…yeah

You feel it right?
Scatterbrain, Odessa Kane, Civil War Gang on site…
we got that new spill
this is that new feel.
Somethin’ you can rock to in your pad, Trooper, Coup de Ville..


Look… I open up ya’ll brain wide
and through that opening..
fill it with rhythmic dopening, drug cochlea’s with the latest high’s.
In the field of music you should get a feeling from it..
Turn on the radio…I don’t get that feeling in my stomach
my skin got goose bumps the first time i hear Boogie Down…
the Production and Rhyme’s had me hooked from the crown..
Chakra shook life into me
That day, I knew where i stood..
15 years old spittin freestyles on Briarwood.
mad years later
I still feel innovative
In a theatre of thought
Faded off sound waves we updated.
Upgraded.
Enough hate it…
But Most support the recordings of the creative patterns that we give to the People in portions…



You feel it right?
Scatterbrain, Odessa Kane, Civil War Gang on site…
we got that new spill
this is that new feel.
Somethin’ you can rock to in your pad, Trooper, Coup de Ville..

You feel it right?
You feel it right?
You feel it right?
You feel it right?

You feel it right?
Scatterbrain, Odessa Kane, Civil War Gang on site…
we got new spill

The SouthEast, The SouthEast, SouthEast
The SouthEast, The SouthEast, SouthEast
The SouthEast, The SouthEast, SouthEast
The SouthEast, The SouthEast, SouthEast

SouthEast, SouthEast
Track Name: The Pen & The Gun
If we ain’t met yet, let me introduce myself…
They call me Kane, father, husband, Muslim…
What’s in a name?

If we ain’t met yet, let me introduce myself…
They call me Kane, father, husband, Muslim…
What’s in a name?

What’s in a name? Mine, rooted like that sugar cane
Suited for that war that’s waged on us plus we underpaid
Minimum wage budget stretchin duckets off shoe strings
So I ain’t buy into two chains, that there amounts to loose change…
to me that there is funny style.
How I write its like my hands guided by the souls of journalists killed in Maguindanao
To write it unrestrained, yet well reserved
just know if I speak on my pain..it was well deserved.
Every scar’s a trophy…
Stab wounds, how?
I use that pain from my past to champion that new sound
Blue styles from a progressive call me Mao Davis
Blowin’ them trumpets on them foul mis-educators
It ain’t enough that the police hound us to make a scene
Our own kind slangin our own kind them methamphetamines…
It’s wild and flagrant how they pound us to the pavement
In a style that make satan proud…
it’s wild where we stayin yo...


Get up, round up
Brain turn that sound up
Pick up, rise up, all my youth lost in lock up
Lift the Block up, Lift the Block up…Lift the Block UP
Blakah, Blakah, Blakah
2x

Cause trust what I want for my seed I want for my comrade too…
Justice, Equality, Love, most importantly the truth…
Cause what becomes of our youth when mislead and misdirected?
Teach them to dissect that all these story lines connected..
True
Even on the frontline they try to silence youth
We got violent proof
Mendiola, Civil Right picket lines they would shoot..
Expendable, I disagree.
We are the undying breed.
In the face of greed, steady fighting for our basic needs.
Side by side my Ree, Radiant Supreme yo…
Reeloaded. Iron sharpens iron, blade of KmB.
Cutthroatin’ plus holdin..
Frankie Simone strapped on her side…for our family we ride
For my comrade / love i would die…
For my squad deep in the resistance..
If I was shot i would bleed KmB crimson.


Get up, round up
Brain turn that sound up
Pick up, rise up, all my youth lost in lock up
Lift the Block up, Lift the Block up…Lift the Block UP!
Blakah, Blakah, Blakah
2x

Get up, round up
Brain turn that sound up
Pick up, rise up, for all my folk shot in Gaza
Lift the Block up, Lift the Block up, Rise up for Gaza
Blakah, Blakah, Blakah

I got my pen loaded that means my gun’s drawn
44 Magnum bubble letters straight on the white house’s front lawn.
Be it acoustically, visually, musically…
Every move critical
Ya’ll do this not usually…
We more use to seein fools mc foolishly
Bout shoes and G’z, Ego on one thousand but won’t feud with me…
F@#$ it let’s slap box
Let’s see how far you get in your verse without mentioning hoes, cash, weed, or crack rocks.
It’s pure perpetuation
Clear channel?
Ironic, you should call yourself Clear channel knowing your airwaves is toxic.
In this cultural army, we call upon ya’ll to join our ranks
Pen Loaded
Gun drawn
BANG.
We not shootin blanks.
We not shootin blanks.

PEACE.