Double disc ($5,000 Flashlights and 102 Magnets), sealed with custom ribbon affixed by a laser-etched aluminum boombox with industrial grade adhesive backing, includes holographic BoomKofa sticker. Only 50 were made.
Includes unlimited streaming of $5,000 Flashlights
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
And the Lord said, “Agent Orange, rock those Cortez.”
But make sure to get a matching pair of velour sweats
Portrait of a king, rolling round in George, red
October in the back with the critters she force fed
Reaching for another heater, rubber gloves, forceps
Leonard Part VI, Fournette in a Corvette
Special delivery, G Depp at your door step
Uppercuts at candy rappers, hoping to score Pez
So snap back, relax, my rap snacking is more fresh
Miraculous attack the track tackling sore necks
Simply stated, if you don’t want it, don’t set it
You’re a bootleg Jerome Bettis with a coke fetish
Scores slept, maybe they’ll eventually arise
Don’t intend to be another, my identity is mine
Forget a better pedigree, I don’t have energy to lie
From Chesapeake to the place that we can mentally arrive
The propensity to test the armor density relentlessly
Sensitive gents and frenemies get overstressed and jet indeed
Wandering amidst the treacherous memories cloaking me
Openly scoping for some weaknesses they can/could seek to grow with grief
Rotary phoning me, circles turn inside of iron demons
The grotesqueries of my arena, try to see them
Notes and remedies hemorrhaging feathers from an angel’s wing
A fatal fling but the highs really made it sing
Try flipping me the bird, I’ll tar and feather every digit raised
Laser guided focused on the target, no ricochets
Sick of strays, randoms in the thickets, grazed
Panicking and drift away, and I promise, nobody’s going to miss you babe
Your image is frivolous how you holding up
Under all the cosmetics embedded a soulless nub
The floss fetish mirage has got you glowing golden dust
sober as a judge, hold a grudge with a cobra clutch
Open up a keg forget your pitiful cans
I’ve got you ditching every bit of your original plans
I heard your miserable jam, the one you spit and ran
I’m inhibiting the way you breathe, so sick of the scams
Several sucrose sibilants you’re chiseled in sand
Thinking that you’re going to last when there isn’t a chance
Find yourself imprisoned wizening away with your camp
Waving a flag closely watched as the craven advance
I’ll be blazing the jam, from basements of mayoral hopefuls
To bars or the all ages stages, I slay with vocals
I paint proposals in the shade of opal, maybe could have made it global
But that’s unlikely, I’m staying local
I traveled enough, being where I am is where it’s at
The F the O the R and the T, nothing could compare to that
I’m your coworker, using big words at lunch break
Not to curry favor, it’s the way that my tongue sways
credits
from $5,000 Flashlights,
released September 2, 2019
Produced and mixed down/mastered by Agent Orange
Started following Juga-Naut upon hearing him break down life and rap relating to Kool G Rap on Crate808 and I've been a fan since. Wordplay, skill, the dope backdrops, what's not to love? Sankofa
