They All Die- This song came about thanks to Cadence Weapon, who mentioned my name to Tod Lippy at ESOPUS magazine. Now that I think about it, this track might have been the spark to start my collaborative process with Keter for The Tortoise Hustle. I was commissioned to create a song inspired by a visual work (photograph, painting, or sculpture) and chose Execution of a Viet Cong Guerrilla 1968. I tried to envision the various factors at play which were frozen in that moment, from the person being shot to its context within the war. After getting Tod's e-mail, I hit up Keter on AIM and asked if he had any beats handy. He sent one over and the song was born. Let it be noted, he felt iffy about that beat and I gave him the Manic Depressive spiel (Before you throw out a beat a beat you're not sure about, let me hear it.). The song was included on ESOPUS4 (Spring 2005 for those keeping track at home).
lyrics
Metal pressing to his skull, it’s come down to this
Screaming any god’s name in vain, a polytheistic twitch
A wrist with tendons tense, ready to clench vengeance
Wreaking havoc in the tattered fabric of another victim
Sickened, a country falling apart, this answer is a trigger
Cancerous, crisis, price paid it the handsomest
Panic attack, a hand with hate to fuel the bonfires
Corpses all around, eyes black, palms skyward
A calm fighter gone beyond the call of random kills
heart’s weighed on the scale against the blood that a hand has spilled
Soldiers in ragged fatigues patrol the dirt roads
The jungle swallows them whole, some saw the earth close
The crossroads where the bad and worse met to fight
Tunnels under the warpath, traps set tonight
A slack weapon glides, silent as the reaper steps
Defiant trying to find them hiding in a secret breath
Regiments, police chiefs, grief and pestilence
Friends, omens, countrymen kill for the testament
What’s a victory without a little death in it?
Uncertain future but the present is a definite
Trading his soul for a sense of quiet in the typhoon
The violent eye of his storm, as the flies swoon
Deprived wombs thicken with invader’s orphans
Delayed abortions, made to hate them and they raise a portion
Wives, sisters, mothers, cork and a razorblade
Forced hands…from apathetic to engage and slay
A maze of prey, impossible to breakaway from
Throbbing temple mere inches from a raised gun
Brigades run in green berets through the thickened brush
Ducking ricochets, napalm ash, stricken dust
Another sacrifice, kids are never quick enough
choppers swooping down to try and swiftly pick them up
A dash of agent orange, newborns without limbs
Blown away by claymores, the brown ground’s grim
From rice paddies to the distant hills, the count’s in
And the bodies keep piling up…
Regiments, police chiefs, grief and pestilence
Friends, omens, countrymen kill for the testament
What’s a victory without a little death in it?
Uncertain future but the present is a definite
A brand new Job for God and Satan’s bored wager
Truth mixed with fiction in a vivid war stranger
A draft underneath the door is bringing cold chills
families try to hold on, but they can’t hold still
Chaotic-turf battles in a maze of jungle
A main opponent, name of Charlie, and his aim is morbid
Some made a fortune selling the planes and choppers
Guns and ammunition, from a nation made to conquer, sons in camo listen
Skin slick with perspiration, body bag and hearse awaiting
A brand new cause worth debating
A percolating pressure cooker where the heat never lacks
Evacuate with medivacs, then send them back
Chamber spins, pelvic thrust of the firing pin
A camera clicks, the moment frozen, it’s time to win
people back home keep on and try to grin
But the quicksand just gets thicker
Regiments, police chiefs, grief and pestilence
Friends, omens, countrymen kill for the testament
What’s a victory without a little death in it?
Uncertain future but the present is a definite
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
