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Rhyme Circus Winter Special EP

by Marcus Carab & Pals

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about

It's been very cold, so we recorded an EP. Bonus video included in download.

credits

released 24 March 2014

Vocals by Marcus Carab (Leigh Beadon). Guest vocals by Mach Spitz (Cory McCallum) and Grant Livesay. Music by Emtee-L (Adam Bé) and Grant Livesay.

Mastered by Grant Livesay at The Gales House.

Grant Livesay: grantlivesay.bandcamp.com
Emtee-L: soundcloud.com/emtee-l
Mach Spitz: beefchiefs.bandcamp.com

Grant Livesay instrumentals are from the album Late October Legal, also available on Bandcamp: grantlivesay.bandcamp.com/album/late-october-legal

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Track Name: Cold Toes
And I can rhyme... though I shiver and teeth chatter
But god fucking help me if I ever start to stammer
And I laugh when cats defend grammar
You can mice words fuckers, I'll be smacking them with hammers
Put your culture in the mulcher and I feed it to the vultures
Then come to stack the bones into pretty little sculptures
I got ulterior motives, but none of any consequence
But playing fickle advocate for hire to keep you on the fence
I'm too emotive, I've been known to talk with my hands
Knocking over beer glasses, catching them before they land
Well, one time anyway, some time any day now
I'm'a don a false name, hop a thought train
But the choo-choo was sputtering and you two were stuttering
Like YouTube buffering

This is the kinda shit cluttering up my mind
It's like time's stuck and I'm buttering up the sides
And then the pain comes fluttering up my spine
Might as well fuck 'cause our number is up tonight

It's hard to juggle chainsaws, my fingers is cold
But I go into the fold, 'cause all the tickets are sold
And so the circus must go on, another day's long
work is thrust upon, and double pay's not happening
Now the cold hands be clapping
...I'm here to gather up the trappings
And map this annual attack on the maddening
Bad things laughing at our sad wings flapping
The cold toes be tapping
...fall into time with the tree branch snapping
And it's not what it seems, no, never that, check again
Y'all been deceived while we popped at the seams
And he dropped from the beams, rockstar in a stadium
Feather hat, second skin, weaponize the reckoning
Step aside, it's the leper kid, beckoning
Semper fi... delete us from the database
I reckon I've got a lesson to impress upon the rest
Of you about the stuff that spreads without lessening
I always bet it on the essence of the day-to-day
And they cannot repress it any more than we can pray away the snow
I need a greater way to go, but the data's saying no
These invaders make a case for laying low
The greater good flows faster by the second
But the wreckage of the summer's in the way,
I guess it's time to pave it over

This is the kinda shit cluttering up my mind
It's like time's stuck and I'm buttering up the sides
And then the pain comes fluttering up my spine
Might as well fuck 'cause our number is up tonight

This is the kinda shit cluttering up my brain
It's like I'm stuck and I'm muttering junk in vain
But then the glow comes bubbling up my veins
Might as well go, 'cause there's nothing for us who stay
Track Name: Ballyhoo Too feat. Mach Spitz
let’s go toe to toe
I wanna see what y’all's bringing to the ring
i wouldn’t sing it if it wasn’t so cold
let’s clear the snow
make a path 'cause the circus trains coming
and it’s stopping in town now
sit and enjoy the show
i’m entering the centre ring,
weather aint a thing, do a matinee too
our menagerie zoo’s got a battery
and generator backing up the magic
of the travelling crew
and it’s ballyhoo true, but the attitude’s new
let’s batten down the big top, this just a
quick pitstop for the hip-hop
mixed with the pig slop tossed in the trough
for the dinnertime rush
i don’t minimize much, but spending time
standing in the snowstorm qualifies,
what have i done
i can mollify some of the bonafide bums
put ‘em in the sideshow when the circus comes
and i’d twiddle my thumbs
but i fear i’m gonna lose ‘em to the frostbite
i gotta find a fireside soon
life’s little but a lot to lose,
i’m on a highwire crosseyed blotto and i lost my shoes
if you can tolerate blues
follow all of my clues
it’ll lead you to the docks, i got a ship
coming in, but it’s in troubling straits,
i sit and hum and i wait, and let another summer come and go
Track Name: Mr. Synesthesia's Wholesale Discount feat. Mach Spitz
Border personality like Buffalo
Apt to snap, go mean green like Ruffalo
Make no mistake not fake like the Gruffalo
So don't be starting no kerfuffle, yo
Because I'll make it put the lotion in the basket
Fuck up yer face, rocky Dennis, gotta mask it
Book you a room in a casket
I'll give you shot but know I'm gonna Tuuka Rask it
Cuz I'm the rap Eddie Haskell macking on yer mommy
The BC delivery, twice the salami
Jalapeño crust, sauce? Inch thick wasabi
You can smell this steez on the breeze from the lobby
Bust the kohlrabi, dust puns like I'm Punjab
Despicable me styles i moon-grab
I'm down with the noon-nap, the boom bap and poon slap
Straight up rocking, davey Crockett in a coon cap
This is for the teeners in betweeners into Biederbicke
Stock up on Weetabix pop lockin wiener dicks
Step to the words you know this fucking nerd'll wreck
Mach Spitz spittin hits rocking head locks and turtlenecks

And if the foal fails, dismount
And return it for the wholesale discount

whoosh, it was a near miss, a mere hiss
it smells weird in here and this beer tastes like piss
so let's keep on hopping down the streets
keep on talking on the beats
we be rocking out in threes
Synesthesia's a machine
the scene makes me wanna smack the emcees
chew through more two fours and bring back the empties
for the loose change, hit the con for booth babes
Synesthesia need a bit a hooch when he soothsay
doomsday! doomsday! no way - true say!
embrace your new fate cause it's too late to pray
HEY! i'm just messing with you, fuck, quit rioting
i seem to have released a leviathan deeply wired
inside of us better get the world's tiniest violin
i am tired of firing blindly into the sky
i'm in a fridge box with crayons drawing rockets and hubcaps
dizzy off a drop and turned on by mud flaps
i've done that, and if I recall I've also been there
mr. synesthesia living leisurely and impaired
till he's interred... and then dug up again
goddamn grave-robbers all wanna fuck with him
lucky them, clucking hens pucker for a buck and ten
what a gem, plucky and a sucker when he plug her in
scatter back for pink drinks with such-n-such
on a fast track to wink-wink, nudge-nudge
but i'll say more, try and stop me, yeah right
you'll just try and copy, yeah bite, drop the damn mic
the price hikes when the feed hand bites back
i'm don't have all the details, but it retails for twice that

And if your the fails, dismount
And return it for the wholesale discount
Track Name: New Year
strut into to a new year
stuck in a rut of new gears
superseding sequence feeding trophy room of bluebeard
who's here? call present second a motion i'm proposing
to destroy the annum by composing some oh so imposing
opuses supposing it's appropriate to blow to bits
the coda and flow over it we're going to need an opiate
and fifty-two strokes of brilliant genius
stitch it all up into one that's seamless
pitch it across the plate and drop 'em late if it's convenient
but vivid or not the vision is hot and we're gonna pawn-to-queen this
stop me if you've seen this, or tell me I don't mean this
but I'm on the top and the bottom of all of the oddest improbable dream lists

I'm'a build a keep here brick by brick
I'd be going out if I wasn't so sick
I'm'a hibernate till the springtime come
spend the winter holed up sampling drums
i been feeling ripped off, stiff as the breeze
why do all the pitstops hit you in threes?
i should have known I'd do right by me
I would have been wrong but I would have been free

this is a plea, there isn't a lot to see
I'm beginning to rot am I living or not
can I give what I got to the trees
or maybe the seas, can I seize the day and be
can y'all just take a knee and break a leg and waive the fee
I am intimately up in infinity slipping a mickey in all of the drinks
I am a flaw hidden deep in the law within all of this straw is a needle I think
every enemy every envenomed IV or anemone spreading the love
it's mostly supposed to be ghostly
a rodeo do-si-do show so there's no need to shove
no there's no need to shove

I'm'a build a tomb here brick by brick
I'd be dead already if I wasn't so sick
I'm'a melt the ice with the fever I got
toppin out the mercury believe it or not
i been feeling ripped off, stiff as the breeze
why do all the pitstops hit you in threes?
I should have known I'd do right by me
Track Name: Capture The Flag
listen to to sound of the wind all up in the steeple
of the derelict temple being converted for people
putting gods on the street where they oughta be pulling 50 a day
or double if they can come up with something to say
or a sign with a funny reason for needing the money
appeasing jesus is easier when he’s drunken and grubby
i’m bleeding litres of my sunny disposition and needing stitches
i’m watching serenity get eroded by twitches
and pitching all over this rapidly diminishing habitat
bitching isn’t a habit at all it’s taught in the tabernacle
and practically canon i’m wishing i could be having a ball,
but it’s out of my hands and i don’t know who makes the call

and there’s a killer in the corner with a cardioid condenser
tryin’a blur and obfuscate the message to avoid the censor
but the filler isn’t mortar and the bricks are gonna topple
and the people in the court are gonna think that shit is awful

there’s prisoner in the tower with a ticking geiger counter
trying to get the jailer to agree to pay him by the hour
but the power’s fluctuating 'cause the tallest trees are falling
and the people loving freedom start to hear the prison calling

there’s a rally in the centre to demand the end of winter
and they’re selling raffle tickets brother you could be a winner
but the odds are getting thinner as we filling up the barrel
and the gods are getting baffled as the people going feral

i’ll try to care,
but the beat done switched and i climb the stairs
to the parapet, fetch the flag and play capture
y’all sit it out and count the fake raptures
that sure hit the spot, the warm fuzzies
bubble up but nothing can stop the born monsters
buddy cops can buzz the known mobsters
but this dizzy height resider’s clear 'cause he’s
the muddy sky lover with the mental immunity
to political trickiness, heir apparent and soon to be
ruling over the season with elemental effectiveness
and intuiting treason with elementary methods
it’s that simple, don’t be telling me different
and don’t be selling me shit as if i don’t know my own business
how do you presume to be cold calling the king?
the phones aint down yet, but i’m’a let it ring
Track Name: Blurred Lines, Whatever That's What It's Called Fuck You
The lines get muddy and the borders bleed
Like the tide that's dividing up the shores and seas
Like ink in water we're losing definition at our bounds
And diffusing ever thinner in a cloud

I had cardboard shoes
But when I started to march they wore through
Ooh...
I better find a star port soon
'Cause my heart aint in this big blue nightmare
A pig flew yesterday and I had a new idol
A big breakfast for the early morning suicidal
Stand right there, y'all make a fine pair
I'll take Swine Air, I prefer the sty in the sky
And the lie's looking far more true
So I decided to buy and scored two
Phew!
When the fuzzy city limits evaporate
That parade is gonna have to wait
We got kings to decapitate
And my appetite's growing but there aint no food
Oh I sowed and sowed but so few grew
No it just don't matter what I do
It's dark when it's sunny
And then my vision go funny

And all the lines get muddy, the borders bleed
Like the time that's dividing up the morn and eve
Like an old time movie you can call it black & white or night & day,
But it's all just muddy middle shades of grey
Track Name: Dead Rocket Robots Pt. 1
i've been known to solve unknowns, and draw out poems
the loner in me gets a boner for fallout zones
i have flown up in a throne stuck in the nose-cone of the drone
delivered payloads say hello down below
come and play [be afraid!] love is strange [we're in range!]
nothing stays, bluffing pays, huff some paint [bombs away!]
i want to hawk odd concoctions in the tonic days
be a great binger in virginier in a chronic haze
now that's what i call holidays, i'm off in space
coughing in a coffin dropping off of telescopic range
it's the red eye to jupiter,
cooped up screwing with computers choosing losing lucidity
superman saying screw it, moving to a new city
and turn into a luciadore refuse pity, it's luther's turn
is this a do or die truth-or-burn universe?
who knew that you were right all along superchurch?
if I recoup the earnings squandered on this super-sermon
turns out it was worth it - fuck, you know i think I'm really learning
something today, I wouldn't get drunk if it paid
and if I blunk you might have thunk this was a drunken tirade
but I think my eyes can tell you I can tell a club from a spade
or tell a flush from a straight
or see you blush when you raise, faker
if my quarry goes to ground i'll bore a quarry down
and cantaloupe the planet open, see who's sorry now
Track Name: Fuckhiphop! feat. Mach Spitz & Grant Livesay
Rep resenters represent represent-sent
Rhyme circus no time like the present
Rep resenters represent represent-sent
Step-lepers straight plucked like a pheasant

Hold onto your hats kids
This gonna be tactless
Rappers getting weary
putting theory into practice
smack this up into a better tier
up into the mesosphere
rap is reinvented by my presence here
seven year itch on the back of the master
pitching from the stitches to the back and the catcher
i'll be sitting shiva when the track is remastered
like fuck hip hop, you magnificent bastard
up in your system like my name was the password
DJ with a hard drive, here to raid your archives
marcus is a far cry from your average barfly
think you got it figured out? well let's hear it smart guy
dark side tightrope balance is precarious
think you're making magic but there's malice in your fairy dust
and still it isn't scaring us, not enough to bury us
is that shit your best shot? because that's fucking hilarious
- and I can carry us straight to the heat death
of the universe i am weightless, don't need breath
i exhale verse, eat words and I bleed hooks
wondering if other emcees can even read books
if he want a battle on the fly i know he's cooked
I stared a muse in the eye - and she shook
i know you're confused but just try to relax
because we're doin this like brewin moonshine out back
i'm pursuing you blind but i'm right on track
you'll be moving through phases, i'm glued to your gazes
i know, the truth often amazes
but i'm not one to have faith with no basis
i'll put my money smack dab where my face is
if it seems tasteless try to contemplate this
if you knew you was who was setting all the pedigrees
who would you bet on? y'know, hypothetically

this is a whole new kind of vision that I'm setting free
this is a whole new kind of demon that's besetting me
this is the meaning and the truth of what a dreamer see
making the scene look like it's chewing on the scenery
this is the world encompassed in a word for all to see
this is a whole new kind of global hip hop policy
this is unstoppable it's hopeless no escaping free
this is a crazy huge explosion overtaking me

I got a rep, yep, and i'm'a straight perpetrate it
Fun times and gun rhymes And sometimes x rated
Crumb bums with down thumbs, I'm used to being hated
No likes from tykes for the hype we've created
But that's ok, cuz I'ma keep dropping tracks
And wack jacks in backpacks can tell me to relax
But I'm a shark son the dark one the fish you don't poke
Jaws on the stage, grab a cage or get broke
Folk croak non-stop "yer shit's in the pawnshop"
While I'm rocking lawnjobs and waitin for the bombdrop
Rom-com wrecker with the spoilers
Way before my time like the oilers in 82
And I'ma say to you "yer tripping"
Wack sadsacks meet the mad jacks, we rippin
Throats yanked, tongues planked and mounted
Young wankers stand up and be counted

But no ones even listening there's no one to hear
Take hip hop and fuck it in it's ear
No ones even looking yo nobody even sees
Fuck hip hop and kick it where it pees

here we go it's round two it's down to
the count and the ground-view
the crowd that surrounds you's
about to get a little hit of Marcus Carab
heartsick struck by the marksman cherub
and darkness scare 'em
one kick put you past sputnik
lug like a drumkit
would you have thunk it?
battleship? sunk it
bullshit? debunked it
fast gear? cranked it
last beer? drank it
thanks kid
that shit
really hit the spot
now gimme what you got
can't stop me
I'm jimmying the lock
straight from the top spot
this is marcus the demmagog
a-k-a m-d-c don't get it wrong
but we can get along in time i suspect
if your style can admit that mine is the best
formalize that, sign it in a tie and a vest
i'll give you time to reflect, i think you'll find i'm correct

But no ones even listening there's no one to hear
Take hip hop and fuck it in it's ear
No ones even looking yo nobody even sees
Fuck hip hop and kick it where it pees

fuck hip hop?
why yes, we fornicate voraciously
found ourselves fondling
roundabouts cirque du soleil
traipsing o’er syncopated tightropes
a team trapeze act to spark a flash mob light show
juggle verses with the finest of rhyme circus
acrobatic larynx lurches
for the loveliest of birds in
peacock tail feather dresses
perching stage-side with the fellas
pigeon-hearted darlings for the daring
and damn-well daunted
haunted by these daughters born of hip-hop mantras
emcee pitching a three-ring tent in Toronto
elephant in the room fed off cilantro? plausible,
but applause, cat calls, and faux pas
appear a more probable cause
spit fire fire eaters fueled by the fury and delirious
queer but us clowns clown for serious, period.
bleary eyed bastards like baboons to bananas
and buxom funambulists fidgeting for fan service
never shoot for Barnum sans a shot of baileys
guest represent the RC ‘til Emtee-L’s beat is fading...
Track Name: Last Act
last page of the program
last act of the night
last flake of the snowman
last rat left alive
knowing i’m the new dinosaur
the old day dynasty denoument ambassador
there’s no longer any other way to spin it
the bugs in my intestine ‘bout to get their fifteen minutes
of blissful ignorance, wishfully thinking they can win it
they shoulda read the minutes from the last meeting
but no one ever does
end up like they never was
un-immortalized in the halls of has-beens
the portal lies where the palls are passing
on the other side the horde’s amassing

or much more likely, the void’s a vanishing
act, statically managing matter
without talent or tact
and when the talons retract
it’s the balance of fact
that wins back the occupied cities
but we gotta find grittier stuff
if we plan to attack
cuz the bluff aint driving all the animals back
we were tough and thriving when we ran in a pack
now we just the fried snacks for tiny giants
biding time and slightly pious
but mostly just blind defiant and biased
uninspired sellsword, bored of class and don’t test well
well-worn, here to try to stand where the rest fell
aspiring tyrant, maybe overly reliant on violence
but money can’t buy me silence
and the noise is just masking the death knell
the bell voice here to put a crack in your best shell

oh dear god, what is this fresh hell?
the frying pan aint seem so bad now
i used to sizzle with the strength of sandows
but here in the fire i rely on handouts
a man down, he couldn’t handle the home stretch
a born wretch like me saved but tone-deaf
no breath, he lays down his weapons
and silently counts down the last few seconds