1. |
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On taking the streets, my heart is set again
I’m one with political MCs
I want to march on an overturned Capital
I’m walking towards a permanent and organised revolution
Fighting capital, the Daily Mail (TF1) and Murdoch (Claire Chazal)
Through boycott and a general strike
This ideology doesn’t seem ‘pragmatic’
For Kautskyite renegades or the Communist party
You’ll learn this whether you want to or not
The most dangerous are not the least intelligent
I want the white flag to be covered in haemoglobin
And become a bloody colour
For the red flag to lead us to revolution
For the proletariat to wake itself for emancipation
History is too slow and maybe we need to provoke it
Here’s a thanks to the militants readying minds
My socialism’s scientific, my concepts metaphysic,
My ideology is Trotskyist, my materialism, dialectic
I’m unashamedly for the fourth international
I believe in oppression and in its destruction
Vox populi, the voice of the masses needs to be heard
If you want peace prepare for war immediately
The wind of change will spread eventually
I’ve got to have faith or end up swinging
To go against the mass will lead to mass revolt
20% decide for the whole 100, this will end in blood
I feel the West (France) regressing
Democracy: A joke.
I come to say, youth will not stay passive
I come to say, our minds are sharp
NO race war, but a big fucking class war
Death to the bourgeoisie, dump the old Etonians (Enarques) in the canal
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2. |
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All those molecules accumulated inside my haemoglobin
Allowing me to forfeit the gift to the haemophiliac
Assimilating my physique to a metaphysical concept
Constantly nourished by black market and trafficking
The result of my excess concentrated in my spirit
I’m doing myself a favour by avoiding the canonical age
The connections in my brain are replaced by black holes
The questions haemorrhaging, are fuelled by depression
I’m pacing while thinking of my condition
Not to complain, but to be authentic to my statement
All those moments, those sessions of sublime
Contribute to extenuate myself and to prove myself an Epicureanist
Fuck it, let it go, if I’m wrong I can still turn it around
I am slow to understand, but Truth is there, somehow
A false start, a sprint, a few missteps
A marathon, and like Icarus, I want to feel the warmth of the sun
Delusion comes and he fucks over Truth
Peacefulness has gone, Neurosis buried her
I’m walking backwards, my eyes blindfolded, yet still closed
I’m working hard so my lyrics, each one to be exact
I’m too behind to be ahead with my money, the hole in my pocket is worrying me
My spending on nights out which income can’t keep up with
The sum of those nights out which my head can’t keep up with
All those burnt-out neurons, all those euros to forget
All those first names to remember, my memory starts to fade
It’s insane to tell ourselves that this craziness does erase
All my memories on the surface of my brain, because indeed
The effect of all of this, while on my way
Is only made to turn away from the problem, but not really efficiently
And then to be alone with yourself during those hard come downs
Mentally and physically in a state of lividity
Avid for fluidity, to stomach our own simplicity
In need of fustigating everything which surrounds us
And all those days, struggling to do the most basic, even though my fatigue is inherent
Cornered, out of strength, but still determined to start again
An endless spiral even though my mind gets sharper
In a world falling apart where Violence gets stronger
Imperfect, perfidious, already lost is the battle
Going on inside us, where we alone are against ourselves
To perfect my diction, to forget my addiction
To stop playing the game of the carrot and the stick
To build productivity, to repent and then fall back still
I teach myself to lie to myself and yet always divided
Between my admitted mistakes and my repressed desires
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3. |
MC AMALGAM - La Bulle
03:21
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Electric is the climate which divides us;
A new individualist era where egotism dogmatises itself
The perspectives are nauseating, the fear of the future is dissuasive
We are sacrificed on the alter to the glory of nihilism
At the end we are nothing, we are just human beings
Only flesh and blood in the blink of an eye
We are going to return to the ground, and let our bodies decompose
Out of our entire human life our death will be the apotheosis
Because here on earth all our egos are juxtaposed, opposed
Superposed and then explode
Under those circumstances, because we neglect our existences
Because we bring on our decline, because we defy Providence
Because we are advocating Decadence, because we are also careless
Because we deny our essence, we will end up in violent turmoil
I can seem overly analytic, but it is my rhetorical style
I see only a cynical response, to all my chronic obsessions
Even though I’m ironic, I see a cadaverous future
I see it apocalyptic unless hypothetically there is a wake- up call
I define myself as a hagiographer of the working class war
And I would like to define myself as an epitaph on Destitution’s tomb
I fuck the rich, fascists and bourgeois
Annuitants, bankers and all the shareholding
To the little bourgeois who think that my fight
Will fade, who think that it will lessen
Me, I don’t think it will, but fuck it we’ll see
But if the future proves them right, then I would let them cut off my hand
All the regression in the name of public security will bring back the war to end all wars
It’s a plague in my mind, the more I think about it the more I feel rotten
The social traitors as drivers of the matrix
All those things are submerging me because it’s profoundly out of our control
All those clothes, supposedly street wear at £100 a jumper
But then tell me, in that price, where can you see the street?
My hip-hop struggle is my social struggle:
A frontal shock which topples money off its pedestal
The bubble - political, media, financial
The bubble – written press, dominant record labels, mainstream radio
For me they’re all the same, just some elite
For me they’re all the same, some opportunists to burn at the stake
The bubble - political, media, financial
The bubble – written press, dominant record labels, mainstream radio
For me they’re all the same, just some elite
For me they’re all the same, send the elite to the gallows
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4. |
VORAS Malta
We are couple of guys with more than 25 years of combined experience in Production, Promotion and in general Media related
Services.
Let's talk about your project! 07549070265
downtowndigital@live.co.uk
Downtown Digital Records is home to:
-MC Amalgam (FR)
-Debbie Howard, Vocalist (UK)
-Patch Harmonix (UK)
-Kryzo-p (UK)
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