We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

D​̸​a​̸​t​̸​a​̸​b​̸​a​̸​s​̸​e̸ B​̸​Z​̸​R​̸​K̸

by Plebs & Fuckboys

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.
    Purchasable with gift card

      name your price

     

1.
Verse: A mudda skunt, a mudda skunt, they dribble at this from the view of a nun, and then summon demons to enable Omans, sexy little things, amazing at best, these guys need to be shirtless to feel the heart in their chest. Do you flush these things with a vortex? Feeble prison, wrapped up tight, when you're immortal, you only lose one life. They touch base, when you're not looking, it's clever, whatever, your focus could be better, for every winter. But you want the heat, for every little beef. Don't you know demons & their pretty little peeps play with such things in their pretty little sleep? You may fuck around and lose arms boxing a forum of virtuous black sheep. Whoa your wild horses, the cliff is a few away, I wanted to pause a temporary day. Your mind is made up, won't listen to reason. Your demise will be roasting for a group of semen, or deep water demons. Keep it coming...
2.
Chorus: From Dalí to Musa, and the pussy of Medusa, the fruit is bare on ripe lands we share. But can you hang? Can you hang? From tree to tree WE WUZ KANGS. From Dalí to Musa, and the pussy of Medusa, the fruit is bare on ripe lands we share. But can you hang? Can you hang? From tree to tree WE WUZ KANGS. Verse: A Congolese master with disaster in his after life eyes, looked after whomever with a blanket of death, and December is next, winter winter, snow fell and hit a bitch with a victim complex. More or less, the sense is written in the nonsense. Dip your hand into the pudding, feel it, then the heat wave becomes before the fall. Then the bridge will burn them all. Chorus: From Dalí to Musa, and the pussy of Medusa, the fruit is bare on ripe lands we share. But can you hang? Can you hang? From tree to tree WE WUZ KANGS. From Dalí to Musa, and the pussy of Medusa, the fruit is bare on ripe lands we share. But can you hang? Can you hang? From tree to tree WE WUZ KANGS. Verse: Quick death, screams ring for long, slow steps. A miracle baby gives birth to itself because its mother is a junky, the future is now, take a look at every end of a porn scene. Pick your favorite, lock it in your thoughts until the time comes for you to bring up these bars. If I had riddles for every time I saw strange fruit, I would probably be a vague cop killer too. Chorus: From Dalí to Musa, and the pussy of Medusa, the fruit is bare on ripe lands we share. But can you hang? Can you hang? From tree to tree WE WUZ KANGS. From Dalí to Musa, and the pussy of Medusa, the fruit is bare on ripe lands we share. But can you hang? Can you hang? From tree to tree WE WUZ KANGS.
3.
Chorus: Engulfed warehouse, fire hazard struck spimeans; but is that really mean? Engulfed warehouse, good nature, fresh touch, death is feeling lush, engulfed warehouse, trampled brats flatline, single file into hell fire, engulfed warehouse, minuscule investigation, road trip, retaliation. Burn burn; burn it down, watch burn burn down, burn burn; burn it down, watch it burn burn down, burn burn; burn it down, watch it burn burn down, burn burn; burn it down, watch it burn burn down. Verse 1: Left side of yellow line, on the way to arson is our son, speeding while high on red pill men, sniffing lines of sheep, cruisin' for a reason known to the observant, a potent potion with unholy lotion flipped the scripts of pseudo-wise guys in his backseat with mead, drink up drink up, on the way to party hard, your party animal side won't leave you scarred. Chorus: Engulfed warehouse, fire hazard struck spimeans; but is that really mean? Engulfed warehouse, good nature, fresh touch, death is feeling lush, engulfed warehouse, trampled brats flatline, single file into hell fire, engulfed warehouse, minuscule investigation, road trip, retaliation. Burn burn; burn it down, watch burn burn down, burn burn; burn it down, watch it burn burn down, burn burn; burn it down, watch it burn burn down, burn burn; burn it down, watch it burn burn down. Verse 2: Stationed in urban realms across the map, intact venom, is ready for brats, road trip for a taste of revenge. Brats burned down red state homes, and now it's time to hit the brittle liberals where they're comfortable, a home away from home, perhaps a vanguard attacked that, slaughtered boring bones from a throne of drones, left a path of a justified inferno. Chorus: Engulfed warehouse, fire hazard struck spimeans; but is that really mean? Engulfed warehouse, good nature, fresh touch, death is feeling lush, engulfed warehouse, trampled brats flatline, single file into hell fire, engulfed warehouse, minuscule investigation, road trip, retaliation. Burn burn; burn it down, watch burn burn down, burn burn; burn it down, watch it burn burn down, burn burn; burn it down, watch it burn burn down, burn burn; burn it down, watch it burn burn down. CC, graffiti mob. CC, graffiti mob.
4.
Surfr Blood 03:12
Chorus: Metaphors on every shore of conscious, surfer blood the blood the blood, blood blood. Meteors with showers of violence, surfer blood the blood the blood, blood blood. Reptilians with some sort of sacrifice, surfer blood the blood the blood, blood blood. Angels roaming, flashing their paradise, surfer blood the blood the blood, blood blood. Verse 1: An incoming fleet of disparity will shake the grounds of the aspire to be free from brash men and women who cover themselves with the death of those they deem as cowardly. The rule of a nation will start with a bloody fist, it usually does. And this is one of our gifts. So why miss it? Chorus: Metaphors on every shore of conscious, surfer blood the blood the blood, blood blood. Meteors with showers of violence, surfer blood the blood the blood, blood blood. Reptilians with some sort of sacrifice, surfer blood the blood the blood, blood blood. Angels roaming, flashing their paradise, surfer blood the blood the blood, blood blood. Verse 2: Sand storms crept upon the nudists as they fondled each other to the thoughts of an unkind Buddhist insulting them; of course they're masochism held a modicum of a setback. In the eyes, as they burn and burned. An orgasmic winter crept in and turned them into nightstand urns. Chorus: Metaphors on every shore of conscious, surfer blood the blood the blood, blood blood. Meteors with showers of violence, surfer blood the blood the blood, blood blood. Reptilians with some sort of sacrifice, surfer blood the blood the blood, blood blood. Angels roaming, flashing their paradise, surfer blood the blood the blood, blood blood.
5.
Palme d'Or 03:51
Chorus: Monsters are fearless, cause illness is endless. What makes us familiar, is golden flowers. Monsters are fearless, cause illness is endless. What makes us familiar, is golden flowers. Dear you hard souls, I'm free to kick the concrete, I'm free to kick concrete, like a weed I am, I'm free to kick the concrete, I'm free to kick the concrete, I'm free to kick the concrete, like a weed I am. Verse 1: A roulette duet in the scene of a due vet, with a fragile corset that squeezes like a python, gone comes on. Mara's in a thong during a marathon, death is the choice every 60 minutes. To outrun beasts is feeding them for weeks, without losing yourself. People love to bet it all, with minimum wealth, or health that is hell to Skeletor. The run goes on as everyone falls to a matador's door, looking for a fight with the God of addiction & fright. Chorus: Monsters are fearless, cause illness is endless. What makes us familiar, is golden flowers. Monsters are fearless, cause illness is endless. What makes us familiar, is golden flowers. Dear you hard souls, I'm free to kick the concrete, I'm free to kick concrete, like a weed I am, I'm free to kick the concrete, I'm free to kick the concrete, I'm free to kick the concrete, like a weed I am. Verse 2: Yes, it's stupendous loathing with bricks of an Oman, broken insides led to weaponry, and through many windows they boomerang out. Victory came fast like Macbeth being well planned out, now. So who's so torturous next to thee, I put spotlights on folks with F.I.Bs. Fictitious ignorant books of the mind, I can write movies about how a facade shines. Chorus: Monsters are fearless, cause illness is endless. What makes us familiar, is golden flowers. Monsters are fearless, cause illness is endless. What makes us familiar, is golden flowers. Dear you hard souls, I'm free to kick the concrete, I'm free to kick concrete, like a weed I am, I'm free to kick the concrete, I'm free to kick the concrete, I'm free to kick the concrete, like a weed I am.
6.
Verse: It needs to have a breathing monk. It needs to have a sleeping nun. It needs to have a running bride. It needs to have a hiding sty. It needs to have a killing pimp. It needs to have a crying simp. It needs to have a teen, before suicide. It needs to have a flying prince. It needs to have a mourning mom. It needs to have a moaning slob. It needs to have a queen, before genocide. It needs to have a driving grinch. It needs to have a dying pinch. It needs to have a salted fish. It needs to have a crimson eye. Chorus: Alive alive; on my plate, alive. Alive alive; on my plate, alive. Alive alive; on my plate, alive. Alive alive; on my plate, alive. Alive alive; on my plate, alive.
7.
Chorus: Breaking toes, your legs, hands and nose, in Little Havana, you will get Castro'd. Your void is spinning, with obvious grinning, you the lost the war before you knew it was coming. Breaking toes, your legs, hands and nose, in Little Havana, you will get Castro'd. Your void is spinning, with obvious grinning, you the lost the war before you knew it was coming. Verse 1: Walking the course of midnight, a sufferer from a broad time streaks and shrieks at the mere sheer modicum of something darkly bleak. Some of us bark at this person as if they have an interest or the patience to decipher gibberish. Foolish souls try to toy with the ghouls. Chorus: Breaking toes, your legs, hands and nose, in Little Havana, you will get Castro'd. Your void is spinning, with obvious grinning, you the lost the war before you knew it was coming. Breaking toes, your legs, hands and nose, in Little Havana, you will get Castro'd. Your void is spinning, with obvious grinning, you the lost the war before you knew it was coming. Verse 2: Your empty space is in a loop, and you now look like an unfinished puzzle. So as you try to put yourself together, you contradict yourself while holding up your flag proudly. You aren't a patriot or a nationalist, not even an insurgent. You are the invader who knocked over & spilled your box of puzzle pieces. Chorus: Breaking toes, your legs, hands and nose, in Little Havana, you will get Castro'd. Your void is spinning, with obvious grinning, you the lost the war before you knew it was coming. Breaking toes, your legs, hands and nose, in Little Havana, you will get Castro'd. Your void is spinning, with obvious grinning, you the lost the war before you knew it was coming.
8.
E-Z Bree-Z 03:12
9.
Chorus: Rhythm & blues, with wraps, intact, with facts, back, I am. Bricks & things in walls with doors, & step-walls, I manned. Open, your heart, to me, is what they said to thee, now they're in our world, you should go hide your pearls. Open, your heart, to me, is what they said to thee, now they're in our world, you should go hide your pearls. Rhythm & blues, with wraps, intact, with facts, back, I am. Bricks & things in walls with doors, & step-walls, I manned. Verse: .....
10.
11.
Verse: Not everyone aims at a target to feed the maggots. Dreeeeamin', lucid blades sharpened for deadly range, scheeeemin', creepin' up on the book keepin' slaves, eeeeatin' 6 times a day so my horns can spray, buuullets, for each of the preached peached bullshit. Tragic what floats, so scapegoats are tortured then killed when their friends are escaped black goats.
12.
001 tout... 04:43
13.
14.
15.

credits

released December 23, 2016

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Plebs & Fuckboys Miami, Florida

The Experimental & Noise-Hop brainchild of Ripdae La Wise & Nickk Dropkick

contact / help

Contact Plebs & Fuckboys

Streaming and
Download help

Report this album or account

If you like Plebs & Fuckboys, you may also like: