- album name
Got a Story to Tell
- band name
by Big Red
-
Download Album FREE
Got a Story to Tell engulfs you in a whirlpool of terror and tension. -
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1. |
Down We Go
03:14
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2. |
The Road
03:52
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3. |
Mr Jones
02:05
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4. |
No Time
03:11
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5. |
Oh Noez!
01:06
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6. |
Amen
03:41
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7. |
The Animator
03:55
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8. |
Let it Out
03:05
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- about
- I consider this my debut sketchbook; my first hip-hop creation that I don't mind showing to others. I still have a long way to go.
- credits
- released 01 January 2010
- license
- Some rights reserved
- feed
-
Feeds for this album, this artist
View: Equalizer
- Track Name: Mr Jones
-
My man Jones came from a broken home,
At the age of fifteen he was living all alone,
Had to eat to survive so he stole all the time,
From the young and the old and the deaf and the blind,
And the cops didn't find it funny,
Poor dummy gotta make your own money,
If you wanna stop running,
But he kept on gunnin,
He started havin fun,
And pretty soon he was locked in cell 21.
Didn't stay long cause he was only a kid,
But Jones hadn't learnt his lesson from the time that he did,
Tried to fit in with the cool kids, messin up his school grades,
Only thing he wanted was respect like the movies,
But cinemas not the best parental figure,
And his mind needed guidance from somebody who had been there,
Try to teach him morals stead of screamin with the chorus of,
Not our problem, someone deal with him for us,
Poor us, we got problems of our own.
So, alone Mr Jones roamed homes,
Slept beneath the stars on the street,
Where the cars all beep,
Cause they all got somewhere to go,
Jones, hated laughs cause he wasn't included,
Wouldn't talk shit cause he couldn't refute it,
Learned to blend in, tried to take as he please,
Wasn't ever gonna beg for money down on his knees,
Cause he wasn't a bum.
But then again a bum he would become,
Jones never finished school and he slept in a slum,
Now you're probably expecting some kind of a break,
Jones'll find a mistake in his mis-woven fate,
But no, he never found his only golden ticket,
Never came around pity for a lonely sick kid,
In fact it's almost like he never existed,
He died under a bridge and no one missed him.
And the cars still beeped, and the people still shook,
Took two weeks to find him cause nobody looked,
Jones was buried in a cemetery, barely remembered,
In a world of people just as dead as him. - Track Name: No Time
-
I was born legs flying like Mr. C. Wyle,
Had a nice tight vision never let it pass by me,
Coulda sworn I had a goal, found a holy grail to chase
Would have stopped diggin the hole if I recognized the place
But the devil changed her face and fixed the race.
Now I'm trippin on my lace when it smacked me numb
What I thought I was running to I was actually running from.
Success was just a way to fill the gaps
Excuse the lack of rest and breathe with rats
Settle for the now in hopes of better future
Put away your cash n' maybe later get a suture.
I'm tired of lying and putting it off
I want tomorrow today or I'm quitting the job
That's a rule that I live by
I got no regrets the day I die.
My pen is running out of ink, I got no time to stop and think.
I got a package of mail to deliver before I let the drinks seep down to my liver.
People will abuse, lose, and use you like a drive through
But they ain't riding no car they ride you!
Nose glued to the train tracks
Seems like you push 'em and the push back (every fuckin time)
Listen, I've always held the key to upper class
and getting smashed, I thought it'd get me places
But it left me on my ass several times now I'm blind
To the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow
So I put my shades on to keep my eyes away from the sun
There's not enough for everyone
And no one wants to share it, that is a fact
When all you see is smiles you know they're putting on an act
Cause they're clowns with masks cheatin tests just to pass,
Beatin their chests or struttin their ass. To them
Life's just a chance to show off what you'll lose when you die! - Track Name: Oh Noez!
-
I was
bumpin the side 'ah frumpy mike
the yellow bellied seller
who was
runnin without a clue-a
cause he robbed multiple cash tellers
somebody got promoted noted only mine
was loaded floated up and goaded mikey
'till I had to throw a show down
Slow Down
'tsa matter ya bloated villain
need some chill in ya feelin
forget the hundred dollar bills
pretend we didn't do the killin
really, getting silly without a thought 'o your willy
Never been to jail and I don't plan to, feel me?
come in and find a hidin spot
huggin the walls before we're caught
hear the search dogs comin
we're done mike I think we're fucked
Fuck I can't go down like this
I gotta take a piss
Give it a little bit a time
Mike, we'll be out in a jif
Shit, that's a cop
Never been on the job
He's a rookie with an itchy trigger finger
Prolly shocked that he
Actually made it passed the days
of training in a class
I ain't waitin for that fool
he's gon put it in my ass
Mike! Come back! He knows that we're strapped
Bobblin cross the roads gauruntees you get clapped
Smack!
Mikeys spinnin to the side
took it in the hide
Now I'm hiding by myself
when the whole damn force arrives
pause
think a minute,how am I gunna win it
aint no one gotta die if I give up with no more killin
so Im fillin 'up my ego ain't no more fun to be had
stood up and waved with a smile forgot the gun in my hand - Track Name: The Animator
-
Twelve years old, back in the day
Little skinny white geek stumbled across a page
With a black background and cheesy ass music
Where you could grab a club find a seal and just lose it
Brought a couple giggles to this humbles introvert
Wasn't long till he started showing his own sweet work
I remember the first flash he ever made
Stickmen and blood, he thought it was great
But he grew, and he started spending more time with a mouse
Drawing squiggly lines and givin microphone shouts
Self-taught animator, out of the box thinker
Self-proclaimed world hater, teenage angst stinker
The feedback was nice, reviews made him laugh
Nowhere else would people watch this kids twisted trash
So he stayed up late painting pictures that moved
They were beautiful to him and they slowly improved
Hunched over, 3am, and his back hurts
"That's my favorite Saturday, nothing else matters!"
He said to his dad, who was worried for his son
Cause he got a tan from the computer no need for the sun
Stop the track, throw it over your back
Got the next train comin and you're already packed
And your souls in your pocket, no spare change
Gotta sell something to get out of this rain
As the years passed by the boy developed his art
With frame after frame coming straight from the heart
And day after day more folks would start
Asking around about this self taught superstar
But he hardly noticed while focused on the screen
Had a dream in mind he needed to set free
And by the time he looked up man he had started a scene
Of followers and fans hooked on what he believed
Catapulted from his basement onto the front page
Squinting in the limelight but still making minimum wage
Graduated from high school and now had a job
Smiling at a desk for the corporate mob
Dealin art from his jacket for a coupla bucks
Down on his luck he thought of givin it all up
Till some classy black suit with a devilish grin
Came by with a contract and offered a pen
Soon as cash enters the picture something's bound to snap
And a rash flip of the wrist left him bloated and trapped
The intro scene was clean, no foul punches
The big screen shined for all of those missed lunches
And all those lost days, erased by applause
But that insatiable craze was laced with a pause
When the popcorn was empty, the building deserted
He was busy thumbing cash when the crowd passed a verdict
"This man is old news, we choose to move on"
He chased after with a paintbrush but they were all gone
And on his knees in an alley he screamed for a friend
Only his manager answered and again held a pen
"Now get up boy, every second's a dollar
You're wreckin all'a your cheques layin here trying to swallow"
Distressed he spent the rest of his days alone
Animating commercials for the businesses that owned him.