Death of a Salesman

by Scurvy D

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01:42
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02:46

credits

released September 3, 2009

Scurvy D, Anthony Jackson, Wyatt Furtherton, DJ D, Nothingman

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Track Name: Bi-Polarity (feat. Anthony Jackson and Forrest Jameson)
Scurvy D:
Here we go, drop my flow,
beat so good you tap your toes.
Ant polished off the Booker Noe,
Wy hit the bowl and lost control.
Forty Frames better than the rest,
forged refined by my boy Forrest,
occasional bleep from Xplicit,
DJ D taking double hits.
We all about the Mary Jay,
look in my eyes I'm perma-blazed.
Woods 08 with your boy Poody,
just how I spend my days.
Don't want no beef,
don't want no action,
you'll just end up back in traction,
I'll split your wig into fractions,
best to not fuck with my chillaxing.
Seven here mastered the craft,
don't dig us? you must be daft.
All our tracks bonafide blasts,
Ant it's lit, yo here's the pass.

Anthony:
Hacking up phlegm from the Lights last night,
should a spent more for the Turkish Golds.
Stripping dollar bills flooding both my pockets,
show her baller skills plugging both her sockets.
Run-and-Gun
Konami Contra
Blasting mother fuckers while I yell my mantra:
"I got big balls, I got big balls".
What?
Here we go, here we go,
Here we go, drop that flow Scurvy D be on a roll.
Fucking shit up like Stuntman Mike
Type the right line or I'm a read it twice!

Forrest:
Sounds resound, we came to get down
And we'll match your force back straight pound for pound
The time has come to pack your shit up and run
We spit the fire flash like the barrels of guns
It took you this long to take you to recall
You're about to fall and you ain't ready at all
These days I find I'm ready to design
Narrating stories in my mind
Make your move, we got nothing to prove
First rate, check mate, we got nothing to lose
Mic to wreck, green rupee on my neck
Music over image or cash, show me respect
To you it don't mean a thing but bling bling
Cranial radio impossible to be seen
Flow with the quickness, give me a witness
Get ready for the psychic fist!

Anthony:
I got big balls, I got big balls.
Track Name: Death of a Salesman
Scurvy D:
It's implosive when my notes hit you.
Overdriven script flipper, ready to rock.
Bust you in the ear with my wrist-ah
Ask Clarissa!
You like Sam, so I’ll diss you
Get ready for my flow to hit you in the kisser.
You suckers don’t know me,
blazed out cat named Scurvy D.
Mic ready, hype heavy, switch up always deadly.
Then we puff on these headies, get with the betties,
streak off in the night in the Jetty.
Know where I’m coming from?
Holla at your boy.
I’m the real McCoy, beast of the east,
quick with the ploy.

Next greatest thing since soy

No doy!

I play mother fuckers like Tinker Toys.

I generate more fear than ol' Doc Crane

and levitate when this shit hits my brain.

Turn wheels to make deals,

hustle the game.

Blazed up suckers just one of the Frames.

Hold up son, you’re out of control,

the narrator wouldn't hesitate to tell you so.

Take it as an order from my boy Fambrough

either scold is cold, your ass got told.

I'm a con artist working on my next scam.

Street genius hustler ripping off the man.

Cash roll in for tracks that ain't bland.

Fair price to pay for one of my jams.

You can never create something from nothing,

so quit your cussing, with the D in effect

your defenses be crumbling.

All that strutting got you busted cousin.

Now I'm laughing ‘cause I'm buzzing



Wyatt:
On second thought!



Predator:

I'm not Scurves for the sake of this song,

that’s all wrong.

You can call me Predator,

blades sharp and arm strong.

Hit you with a sedative,

you think like dumb blondes.

Your life isn't worth keeping around for long

See into my eyes your heart rate stunted,

by a cold blooded blunter with a knack for hunting

I'm on attack ‘cause you mother fuckers been fronting

Can't give up now your asses started something.

You're going to hit the streets to keep out of my reach

your number one betrayer will be your own feets.

Bring you straight back to me, deeper than shits creek

Mother fucker can't handle the heat?

Give me my fees.

I'm on the hunt for Jakes, sharks and snakes,

I'll cut your brakes, I don't make mistakes.

Take it like a man, on your two legs stand

Death of a Salesman, when my nina goes blam!
Track Name: That's the Way We Are (feat. Nothingman)
Scurvy D:
One for the money!
Two for the show!
Three it's getting heavy!
I ain't holding back no mo!
Got a grip on the mic
gonna let the flow take control
this shit is necessary like green in the bowl
This music is classless
it's impact can shatter
rich ass bitch or broke fucking bastard
it can teach not to quibble over shit that don't matter
when surviving the game minus TV cameras
we don't get a prize to live out lives
so whats it matter to you if I choose to get high
when nobody s hurt tell me wheres the crime
the last time I checked its not yours its mines

Nothingman:
Yo let me take to a place where we're coming from
The sorry side of nothing equals nothings yo
that's where we're coming from
The farther living from the point of living from the closets star
Fuck a car, I take a bus to the next star
and when I get there its all the same anyway
We'll give a fuck someday, yeah we'll give a fuck someday
yeah we'll give a fuck someday, we'll give a fuck someday
Hey thats the way we are, yeah, thats the way
yeah thats the way we are

Scurvy D:
That's the way we are
we say fuck your car
and catch scars in bars
and by far
the most def at this
we rock shit
pass the spliff
DJ D two hits
Forty Frames the demps
and when I break it off
no need to get cross
bitches drop your bras
Nothingman is in charge
my boys large
heading out to stars
beats by the barge
Scurvy D is hard
I'll take the next boat
and gloat
when your ass boasts that
your music is close
but heres a real does
of a thing that brings
a spine ting
and makes your ears ring
while sirens sing
Catch the bus it's a must
no fuss
real life or bust
suck on our dust
and TRUST
that that's the way we are
That's the Way we are!

Nothingman:
Yo let me take to a place where we're coming from
The sorry side of nothing equals nothings yo
that's where we're coming from
The farther living from the point of living from the closets star
Fuck a car, I take a bus to the next star
and when I get there its all the same anyway
We'll give a fuck someday, yeah we'll give a fuck someday
yeah we'll give a fuck someday, we'll give a fuck someday
Hey that's the way we are, yeah, that's the way
yeah that's the way we are
Track Name: O.P.E.C. (Our Public Energy Crisis)
Chorus:
Drip drip drop

pumps never stop

Saudi's on top

while America rots
Drip drip drop

pumps never stop

somebody call the cops

Yo Bush got bought

Scurvy D:
We getting cheated, yo

and that is factual

the one's with the oil

yo they got control

up the prices go

paying triple

their word ain’t credible

outcome inevitable
shit like this happens all to often

the masses get dogged when they want they profit

folks complain but congress mocks it

'cause pals in the biz line they pockets
They want to blame

on those who speculate

they say they wreck the game

make the price inflate

try to legislate

and control the rate

but ain’t that the same

as those that you want to frame?
Where's the glory in trodden on your fellow man

squeezing him for cash just because you can

sadistic plan helped by the government

jades my opinion at the sight of another scam

Chorus

last nine days you've accomplished jack

our mother fucking congress is the pinnacle of whack

it'll go on like this ‘cause the deck is stacked

‘cause we addicted oil like we addicted to crack
when the fuck you going to get some shit done?

when the fuck you going to pay attention chumps?

when the fuck we getting out of this slump?

when the fuck are prices dropping at the pump?
are you really trying to give us some relief

alleviate the pressures here on the street

don't condemn me just because of my belief

that the oil companies are nothing but thieves
I'll part with this to say
republicrat demoncrans
get on the same page

this shit isn't some fucking phase

don't turn this shit into the end of days

Chorus
Track Name: Baird Street Apokalypse
Forrest:
Brimstone, fel fire shooting up from below
Your last toke, you choke in thick black smoke
Invoked, your fear stoked like a flame in the abyss
Persistently lit by the torch in my fist
Sick when I rip, dexterous when I flip
This track, attack, change the tack, and wheel it back
Stomp! I'll shake and break the earth
Richter Scale off the charts when you enter my turf
40 P to the F, bridge to the spirit realm
With a mic, manifest the Ninth Layer of Hell
Dip our cup into Eternity's Well
The Sundering, unlock the gate to the demon cell
Legion of the Burning Rhymes, emphasis so sublime
The heralds of the fucking end of time
The world rests before the Dragon of the West
One more roar as the sun sets

Scurvy D:
4-51 degrees of heat
When The Frames come together, bitches keep your seat
Don't want no clashing, let's keep it discreet
Just in case, I've called in DJ D
Wyatt Wyatt on the track, bringing afros back
Fojay hella blazed, Ant sleeping in the back
Dreaming dreams of 50 bill stacks
Do what we want, when we want as a matter of fact
Life will change in ways that amaze
When the sky and the ground are set ablaze|
Guns over god in the End of Days
Remember each death is just a turn of the page

Anthony:
Bring it back bitch
Yo, here comes your thug
Popping people in the head
Fill your chest up with slugs
Get some more shots
'Cause you might got tetanus
Ant be in the back
Making drinks like a date rapist
Place us on top of your CD collection
Whip out my nuts, yo do these look infected?
Got to take control with a proton pack
Cruising the strip, spending two-ton stacks
Changed my name to Mister Vegas
Fifty grand at the table
Just got wasted!

Wyatt:
Never the best for first,
with these misplaced affections making me feel the worst,
these soft skies, and rehearsed lines
that take away from everything we say,
fall is just another season I'll be today.
With nothing on, just bark on an old tree
and a bell no one's supposed to ring,
I feel the wind like the church feels the choir sing,
"He lives within my heart" a feeling I can't relate to
without the cards you said you'd send
but didn't I know you meant to
I'm burying your driveway with leaves
and I couldn't be stopped for anything
the wrath is so pitiful but genuine all the same
and the heartwood in me says that that's a damn good thing

DJ D:
I don't have to remind you who just stole the mic from your lips
You've been stalking stealthy,
so your part in this song got skipped
It doesn't matter what you say or want or do
'cause you aren't the wiser to the quiet in the room.
And I'm not saying this to be at all unkind
That's how the darkness comes and swallows up your mind
It roots in deep and just grows and grows and grows
Up till the real facade oh so truly shows
Let the fire inside fuel those fiery eyes
Cast me the shadow here cause fire burns alive
Its chosen you, it chooses few
Nothing you can do til the judgement ensues
So, step back and watch the master
You just might enjoy disaster
Of that i'm the high grandmaster
Cause my killer rhyme reactor
Wipes your brain clean that much faster
Then a hit of pure grain ether
Flashing finger so you'll remember
DJ D from six feet under
Track Name: Radio Hack
You gave up your heart
You gave up your dream
You gave up everything to make a little C.R.E.A.M
Nothing more than a programable being
used by the labels to transmit a beam
to send out their message of hate and ignorance
and ply the masses with ads for cigarettes.
Artists should keep the media in check
instead you tap dance at the man's command.
You said it yourself, “It's all about the Bens”,
even if it means the death of some friends.
You got another story in which to blend
encrypted hate they tell you to send.
It's alright player, live your lie
stacks in pockets, you doing alright
sellout is just a word, no cause for fright
ignore those colds sweats and terror filled nights

Chorus:
They jamming on your smash track
Radio Hack
You made a little fast cash
Radio Hack
Remember one sad fact
Radio Hack
Sell your soul
you never get it back

If you do this for dough,
there's one thing to know
once your sales drop off your out the door
they got no place for yesterday's ho
especially when that bitch don't produce no more
just an over glorified pitchman
your label made shit is trite and bland
the public won't buy your scam
or give a damn,
that your ass scored a track on Rock Band
It's not that hard to get creative control
take back parts your checkbook stole
remember how the music used to sooth your soul
and get back in touch with the art of your flow
Follow the way of The Frames
make your music for the sake of staying sane
or just because you got something to say
for the best things in life you never get paid

Chorus
You made a little fast cash
Radio Hack
They jamming on your smash track
Radio Hack
Remember one sad fact
Radio Hack
Sell your soul
you never get it back
Track Name: UnNatural Change (feat. Anthony Jackson)
Anthony:
Peek-a-boo
I see me fucking you.
Nothing more potent then a needle in the vein
injecting some shit that will make me entertain you.
Ha nah I'm uppity, crack you in your face
like the fucking governor your ass be erased.
Vanessa, Miss America.
Got the crown revoked
pictures surfaced of her getting poked
looks like my chicken's getting choked.
So my name is Anthony J.
and I'm an alcoholic ok?
Dance of the Switchblades
at number thirty nine
get with four girls
slumber party of five
they cheer and twirl
add a frame.

Scurvy D:
I've got eighteen styles and flows,
Nine silver, nine gold,
on lockdown to seal the temple door.
And if you look into my eyes you know
my gaze is cold when I exert Xavier control
Your mind body and soul are mine
I can lift you up or crash you down with rhymes.
And if you stumble a couple of times
huff a line, while I take a puff of mine.
It's D with one of The Frames, up in your brain,
cause reactions in chains, leaving you lame
It's a shame you wanted to stay the same
Ant and me, a force of unnatural change.
Track Name: New Era
Scurvy D:
Scurvy D here doing a little solo joint.
You know how it goes.
Sit down, shut the fuck up, feel my flow

Creep around my spot, just chilling tonight,
don't want flashbacks of that fright.
Find a new hookup need to buy a ton,
Oh shit! What?! Y'all stunned.
I'm the prophet of the New Era,
Start shit with me, kid, I dare you.
Consequences you ain't prepared to handle
Treat you like the president, another scandal
Bush says he needs another eighty billion bills
Beat the beast, rack up the kills.
Not a thing to you, it ain't your kid dying.
Nameless faces, lots of mothers crying.
Understatement this world is screws
Drink beer, get drunk, about all we can do.
Eventually things are going to change
for the better if we're lucky, but ain't it all the same?
I can tell you this, on the mic I spit.
If you got some drama, get over it.
Get your swerve on, have a bit of fun
Before you know it, your life will be done.

The next time y'all hear me, it's going to be Forty PF time.
Ant, Wyatt, Scurvy D? Fuck off.
Track Name: Must
Scurvy D:
Motherfuckers you could have called me Atlas
from the weight that I pushed.
I was good. Those Jakes, they never got shit on me.
I learned from the best. But all good things must come to an end.
It had to be to avoid catastrophe
and honestly, it's alright by me.
I got fed up, tired of the scuff
escape was a must, sanity or bust.
I lost for sure, but gained much more.
Expansion in my flow,
hella bags of 'dro.
Over time, I joined with the shine
of the rhyme, found mine, giving sight to the blind
I do my shit just to make a hit
not to line my pockets, just to drop another riff.
Feel it in my bones, enlighten the drones
while stoned, sending codes to wherever they roam.
Unravel the meaning of author J Keating,
Carpe Diem, mother fuckers, time is fleeting.
You never know how shit will go.
Live life in the fast lane, pedal to the floor.

Chorus:
I had to get, had to get, I had to get, had to get the fuck out.

Pusherman of the weed,
like my boy Nizzity.
Drop cops from chasing me with stops at Krispy Kreme.
Those days of old, I had to let go
Still smoking on the bowl,
but there's music in my soul.
So now I twist like cows in the wind
Giving props to Paxton
piss your pants Simon.
No longer pushing weight,
never catching court dates,
'cause my intellect is great
and I'm quick on my skate.
The best in town, pound for pound
you won't find better,
when you take a look around.
'cause it's me, the one and only Scurvy D
My soul is finally free, I'm letting me be me.

Chorus:
I had to get, had to get, I had to get, had to get the fuck out.

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