1. |
REBIRTH
01:06
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Believe me when I say this is a long time comin
Sickenin addiction and guitar line strummin
Sittin in the kitchen with my arms wide open
Itchin for the inspiration, part time poet
Hard line pushin till my bars gettin broken
Intuition twisted till i start getting focused
Listen to the rhythm, get in tune and set in motion
And assume youre gonna do some stupid shit based on emotion
I don't need to be reminded of the fact
That I've been blinded
in the blackness
Seen a silhouette
I swear to god i rap because i have to,
This how I communicate
My mental health is pay
I could give a fuck about the accolades
Anachronism living in the future and the past
Antiseptic for the sickness
Sip it out a whiskey glass
My willingness to win is widdled down and sharp as tacks
And my tactics all have turned to stabbing tracks up in the back...
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2. |
Broken Teeth
02:45
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Sonic Incapacitator
Chronic Masturbator
Poppy plant pollen popper
Stopped cuz not a moderator
Mr. How's Your Sister?
Listerene strips and condom wrappers
Icky fucking mac n' cheesy poem
baby mama trapper
I traded out the razor blades
Used to blow an eighth a day
Savoring the fragrant taste
Stuck like i was stapled to the paper in amazing ways
baby i'm the king of diggin it out like im the ace of spades
so figure it out
Summer Sanders in my wet dreams
Lewdest, i been Judas for the nudism and sex scenes
Post humous Flow Student
Posted like a broke buddhist
Super Soaker loaded for the flow
Im yellin out GO TEAM!
the stokin im an open flame
gettin loaded off the novocaine
i'm just tryna dig my teeth in
bite slow so they don't know the pain
Yo!
So don't try to ever test me
Dont try to ever best me
Dont try to climb inside or try to ride up on my testes
I don't need the compliment
I know that im hot as shit
i know that im poppin without pocketin a proper cent
I don't got a hot percent
all i got is pocket lint
consequently, i cannot be stopped because i'm not content
so what do i do?
get a million views to prove that I'm a threat?
let a competitor knnow i'm ready to go no matter what time it is?
i don't gotta try i wrote this shit up on my lunch break
ready to make a splash like i been sittin up in a dunk tank
duck tape duck fucking blunted to your dumb face
bump that
icky resin hit em with the pump fake
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3. |
TL
03:21
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This is for the city that we know so well (friscoooo) and the people in it that it didn't go so well (hell noooo) last house on the block, last block in the cell (Tl! Tl!)
Now my neighborhood ain't made for goody two shoes,
if you wearing two shoes,
then you doing better than some dudes do,
but if you tryna cop some new shoes
they selling em on a blanket next to bootlegs some toothpaste and used screwdrivers
with screw drivers mixed in crystal geyser water bottles
sipped on rascal scooters that maneuver round the potty droppings
cuz dudes really be poopin on the sidewalk
same dude datll try to take ya iPod
bring it down to turk street trade it off, five rocks
spit em out they mouth now he ready for some time off
The golden gate Bridge feels miles away,
and I can write graffiti all night and day,
the cops don't stop,
to them its just some childIsh play,
cuz they got brothels in massage shops, extort some pay,
fuckem/
cuz I got bahn mi to eat,
don't drop none down on needle street,
cuz the rats come fast and they need to eat,
and those mothafuckas bigger than motor boat,
go down to Polk n post, find some hoes u can motorboat, and after that they probably smoke some dope, whatever floats your boat, but if you go below, make sure you know the pretty ladies with the panty bulge
I love my city love my block, skid row mixed with hipster shops I love my city love my hood , non stop drama popping good
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4. |
Over 2014
03:02
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12 years old with a bottle of gin
Get a cup and fill it up and swallow it in
Sip it up and spit it up and swallow again
Sicker than the pity we been wallowin in
Some hollerin kids, smokin stems stole from the folks
Bowls full of old moldy, pullin up the tokes
Blindfold eyes glow full of the most
Bad big kids had to show us the ropes
Till we got our own, taught our own
Shots are sold, chops are rolled
Cops are called, fuck em all
Kids with a pot of gold
Vodka coke, Monster bo
Got a case, got a O
Caught a case, caught a cold
Any place, plenty thowwed
Over, we over,
And we really need it man, fuck sober
And we really meanin
Take a step back from that bottle of Jack
Probably look back and laugh
Worry bout it when we older
So now I dream of IV
Try me, get these nine in your eye deep
Cry please, I'm inside with a tight squeeze
Pucker up and sucker up because he likes the
Blood sucked up, truck with the ice cream
Dark brown, heart pound like nightly
Charge found, hard ground might invite me
Face down break loud like lightening, but still enticing
Hit em up with the overdose
Still he poke and toke and chokin up while he blow the smoke
Silver platter till he gather up a posted note
Posted up about to drown, whatever floats his boat
The smoke it coats his throat
Over he over,
And he really need it man, fuck sober
And he really meanin
Take a step back from that vile of black
Probably look back and laugh
Worry bout it when he older
So i sit here, six beers deep in the back room
Hopin to think of something that could wrap up this track soon
Ashing tobacco wrapped grass that I vacuum
Contemplating scarred arms, bruises and tattoos
Truth is, I can't lose
Long as my hands loose
Long as the band move frantic,
And plans do
Pan out, we fan out, we fucked up and cant count
on hands how we hand out, chances to branch out
But I guess if that just ain't enough
And the junk catch up with the way that I must just trust
That the rush was a part of the push
And the kush and the coke were a part of the trudge
But it's harder to judge, when the heart is a puddle of mud
Pooled up at the back of the bus
At the feet of a fiend
And it's harder to love it seems because
I'm over, I'm over
And I really need it man, fuck sober
And I'm really meanin
Take a step back from that heart of the track
probably look back and laugh
Worry bout it when we older
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5. |
Insipid Feat. Trevaillé
04:17
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(ickymack)
Yo
I lock folks to the chopping block
rattle off shots that lob toes out ya cotton socks
piece by piece
i release sweet sixteens
that leave em bleedin from they stumps
they stumped
and peein in they jeans
leave these murder scenes
like school shooters in they teens
or pool shooters, we some sharks
swimmin in pools of broken dreams
I don't concede
conceit, sweet as syrup on a peach
peaches and cream between the sheets
leaches and bees for weak emcees
i come in peace
i mean i come in pieces to the puzzle
you put it all together, i'll have unbuckled my muzzle
cuz im vicious
vicious as abused and hungry pits
its a pity that this picture is ridiculously vivid
you insipid, makes me sick
it is a sin you shitty bitches
spittin writtens that i wouldnt
even put my fuckin dick in
in the kitchen
cookin with fission
shook at the vision
look at the mystic cannabalism
make an incision
cut to the rhythm
just to get in em
i'm a terrible titan
unfairly im fightin
i bite and i knife
and my life is the night
im a knight on a bike
and i might use a pike to impale you
or spike
ima tear you a new one
fuck
that's verbal artillery
hurdle to victory
flirtin with mystery
hurtin for misery
heard i'm a beast so don't even get sick with me
YACK
i dig my fingers in the soil
i was born and raised up on it
can't help but remain loyal
can't help but retain joy
i won't be coy or in denial
san francisco like the Saudis after they discovered oil
money makes a mess for those who do not got it
regardless of the profit at the top the bottom want it
so please don't be surprised if when you run around and flaunt it
the kids you pushed up out they hood put hoods on,
make you run it up outta your pockets
you insipid, makes me sick
it is a sin you shitty bitches
killin culture for convenience
like some vultures lookin for meat
with your eyes glued to the screen
and mind ruined by greed
without trying to perceive
how they be dying in the streets
the money you make gives the powers that be
all the power they need to decieve and to feed
of the need for distraction from minimum wage
so they pacify us with the technology
ironically, the same shit that created the problem by wrecking th community
every time that you tweet, google or stream
you supported the enemy
(Trevaillé)
pack a van with pachyderms who be heavily packin llamas
that's a pack of wolves that'll already come back to harm ya
movin more packs than ronald reagan thru contras
so if you aint packin gats they pack that casket for your mama
teeny boppers
with the choppers
that'll pop up out your noggin
little bastards ridin shotgun
no traction with no options
used to have some housing but they smashed up all the projects
now they mad as fuck, actin up, blastin your surroundings
insipid, quite vicious
watchin yo mama evicted
and watchin these ignorant twits erase the imprint from the Mission
don't have a pot to piss in
just crackpots in the kitchen
victims of a system that is twisted and indifferent
and everyday problems get solved with revolvers
they gettin fucked over by popo
livin is costly don't got no dollars the city don't got time for no poor
dumpin the heat they go dumb in the streets
cuz the city we live in is so cold
people BSin constantly stressin congestion is makin us loco
fuck it
it's been awhile since i gave half a fuck
grew a lot more jaded since we played at bein astronauts
walk up to a pack of bloods, like
what's crackin cuz?
throw up middle fingaz with these bangaz comin after us
cuz we was born to be some beasts
burnin down this bitch its just my homie Ick and me
battle my misogyny while straddling my consciousness
Want a revolution, plus this booty bouncin on this dick
and fuck your boundaries
nigga i done been through hell
nigga i done been to jail
and it was not endin there
in just one year, i lost my son and my friend
so if you got a problem bitch i dont give a damn
mothafuck being famous
fuck your twitter
fuck your facebook
snapchat my dick for your faces
fill my bank account with paper
if the gang aint in your playlist then we invadin your stations
making statements that are heinous as we teabagging your favorites
most em overrated
faking gangsta for some ratings
reason why my notebook pages filled with bitterness and hatred
they say the game is changing, who the ons who rearrange it?
trench gang is in this bitch, we coming sick and so contagious
yup
and we aint the ones to play with
a little message, made it just for entertainment
byotch
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6. |
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I'm not havin any of that bullshit
I'm taggin on the pulpit, and saggin till my soul spit
fat loogies little doobies in a clothes pin,
hoop shootin kick flipping devil in some new kicks
turn a Buddhist to a nudist,
whos this punk rockin snap backin rapping ass dude
give stupefied eyes with his suicide rhymes
spittin nooses and unloosening the truth in my prime like
wooh, damn man that's hotter than hell,
I don't wanna be bother but I gotta prevail,
I don't wanna be a father but I'm raw dog,
hit it with my draws on,
never known to clobber and tell
sanfrancisco is the backdrop,
I spit fire in the city that be smaller than a match box
turn my passion to a cash crop, slanging fat sacks of the raps and the track be the stash spot
They see me comin and they runnin so it's obvious to me, they lackin luster, actin tough, but it's impossible to see, They see me comin and they runnin so it's obvious to me, they tryna pass and get back on top, but I drop, they gotta get it cuz is obvious to see
Fall back if you can't keep up,
yall trash that my ass clean up,
yall cash what yall ass gon run,
i practice fast rap attacking acrobatic lung
tall grass no snakes get through,
haul ass no breaks get used,
hall pass for them fake ass dudes,
Im never less, only greater than or equal to, it's like that
man I used to bang dope
then I used to slang dope
then I took a break and I became dope,
cash rules, but I never follow em,
I lift off before I killem with the heat, like I'm Apollo one
and unapologetic rhetoric,
I'm taggin "ickymacks back!" on ya casket
check the lettering,
I'm better then a sedative at settling the sensitive
tentatively taking over tell it to ya relatives!
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7. |
Apogee
02:33
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Venom givin energy
I seen a Lotta bitin
but my sentence is an effigy
I sing and they ignite it
and they sell it as the apogee
apologize for fighting but the only way to set it free ...
Snap back like a wrist rocket
clean shirt, snap back, iced wrist rockin
I mean it never been nice, like, this shits poppin!
picture perfect, I'm Dorian gray, with shades blockin
but my pedigree is peasant stock
and my presence is dependent on my present talk
like I could lie and tell myself I'm in a better spot
but that's a lot like the pot callin the kettle hot, for real
I just need a moment to recognize the greatness,
memorize the faces,
energize and say this OK,
but no way ima lie awake
with the Venom movin thru me, projecting a bad movie like
self esteem low but the ego so big
look up on the mirror see a shiny piece of shit
I mean I know that I'm the greatest I can feel it in my pit
but the pity that I'm putting on my self ain't hearing it
thats why that Venom givin energy
I seen a Lotta bitin
but my sentence is an effigy
I sing and they ignite it
and they sell it as the apogee
apologize for fighting but the only way to set it free ...
Cuz the only way to set it free is let is out
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8. |
DROWN
01:48
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I don't got the time to sit around and wonder why they wanna drown me under water with imaginary sounds, shake the ground like '89, grew up on Windows 98, thats why the windows to my soul are foggy
Just the other day
I seen my mama in my dreams
she told me keep doin my thing
i think im on to something,
poppin off and lock away the key
my prophecy is Papa Doc
I'm poppin shots and shocking kings,
with imaginary rough and tumble
stumble on the scene,
my Nikes ripped from poppin ollies over all you wack rappers
kickflip em around until all of em ass backwards
you grinding every day, but you staying up on balance?
cuz what i lack in that i make up for in raw talent
im a mother fuckin beast, i'm Hank McCoy'in in this bitch
i'm deployin and destroyin spittin poison in this bitch
me and my boys are crushing toys and making noise up in this bitch
you give a Pho?
i'm the Sriracha and Hoisin in this bitch, hah
I don't got the time to sit around and wonder why they wanna drown me under water with imaginary sounds, shake the ground like '89, grew up on Windows 98, thats why the windows to my soul are foggy
just the other day
I put graffiti on the wall that told em ICKYMACK IS BACK
a psychological experiment, i peer into the black
disappear a bit, a pyramid appearing in my lap
premature ejaculation, I aint waiting thats a fact!
i'm sober and i'm older and i'm holding onto nothing
so i'm bolder and i'm colder and i'm focused and i'm toughing out the loudest motherfucker tryna tell me i aint nothing
don't listen to that man up in the mirror anymore, ah fuck it!
I don't got the time to sit around and wonder why they wanna drown me under water with imaginary sounds...
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9. |
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(Robin Black)
never encouraged by
hated and hurried by
paid, splurged worried my
journal internalized
burdened and blurry eyed
dirty and certified
judge, jury sure to find
cursed i deserved it i aint got shit?
words sure worked to fertilize
hurdles climbed like a sherpa
perched up high i
return to surf the turnin tides current
current divergent verbs serpentine
flex like a serpents spine spurrin
a culture purged,perverted and purified,
get lured in and turned into merchandise
predetermined to die servants
to commercialized purists
spirit survived by prized works that i worded
son me like spermicide
or learn what drive is
hurt inside, still the curtain rises
surprise guys, i surmised your guises
jus unsatisfied with your guidance i guess
yall turned your back, how the fuck could i front on you?
fear what i’ve done? bitch fear what i’m gonna do
you don’t get to die you gotta live through my era,
and i hope it makes you sick, that i just get better
whose gettin paid?
whose the music you make for?
whose gonna cave?
whose gonna wage war?
whose afraid?
whose gettin made?
whose this a grave?
and who is this jus a phase for?
(Ickymack)
Neck aching and bed baking a bad mood
sweat breaking and bread breaking with bad news
set pacing, and racing the clock
get a vacation to stop
spinning and sickening spitting taboos
stick and poking and opening wounds, tattoos
pistol smoking cuz opening news past due
spitting oceans and overflowing
and overdosing on sober potions and opium infused cash moves
i aint tripping, my shoe tie the truth
and i aint sipping, my puke lines the booth
i aint pitching no hook, line and sinker
it took time to tinker
my new lines the truth
so let me tell it, i'm taking a new route
i'm breaking the new ground, i'm shaking the moon down
i'm making the news, aiming to shoot, making a boom - pow
cuz i don't got no option but take em to school now, sayin
who's getting paid? who's the music you make for?
who's gonna cave? who's gonna wage war?
who's afraid? who's getting made?
who's this the grave, and who's this just a phase for?
(Davy Droman)
Honest to god I've gotten rotten on em,
Coughing up a bloody lung, my conscious cold as any okanagan autumn/
Racist bigots pitching shade caught in hollow bottles,
now the winters comin & they wondering what brought it on em/
If they can't put the shovel down I'll let em dig a grave,
Bury em alive wit all they sins & misdirected hate/
Cut them fuckers off like a gangrenous limb,
This shit going down similar to flames in a blimp//
I'm in a rage; a militant mindstate in this bitch,
& that's the reason they be walkin off stage wit a limp/
Cuz every time I make connection wit the paper & pen,
My wordplay is breakin vertebrae & they on the mend/
Left a brain & cranium concave wit a fist,
Breakin a brick over the angry lookin face of a pimp/
Now look at that ridiculous face, look like tarantino shared a genome wit Nicholas Cage/
Who's gettin paid?
Who's the music made for?
Who's gonna cave?
Who's gonna wage war?
Who's afraid? Who's gettin made?
Who's diggin graves?
& who's this just a phase for?
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10. |
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Now it ain't never been that hard to tell the truth /
but honestly the truth ain't always easy to pursue /
I mean to me today I swear to you Im feeling pretty cool /
but a week from now might find a needle in my arm and fatass holes up in my shoe bc I know that I been there before /
so how I know that cool just ain't the start a slippy slope /
like Im on my tippy toe, peaking reaching for some hope /
but the walls are falling faster and I'm sinking and my boat can't even float /
I mean I'm thinking that the point in trying to make /
that I got a different kinda truth from day to day /
like a different shade of gray turn my brain a different way /
instead of staring at the sky I put one foot up in the grave and start to wave at all the people and the places got me thinking that the way is knowing each and every face and planning every conversation and it's truly complicating shit that ain't that hard,
lay awake n stomach achin takin hate that far/
some days I wake up feeling great /
write a verse bout being grateful for the food up on my plate /
some days I wake up in the dumps/
write a verse bout murder suicide and razor blade cuts/
some days I wake up feelin pissed/
write a verse but how ima killa leave em bleeding in a ditch /
most days I wake up feelin cocky, talking hella shit like they ain't neva gonna stop me /
whats your mind like?
Now tell me how I'm sposed to reconcile that? I refuse to cultivate an image even though in rap, without an image you ain't relatable enough and for the fans, you either in a pigeon hole end up body bag, I mean ok it ain't that serious, don't mean to dramatize, but the truth is I refuse to tell em lies, and if my music never blows the compromise is at least that I was honest with myself, I mean I tried / Lord I tried, fourth mixtape, of course I shyed from MakinG music that I couldn't stand behind / still poured my mind, whether it was twisted up inside, by a sickening addiction or my ego or my pride or even when my momma died, i still had music to make. It just looked a little different than my mood is today / but that don't mean that tracks but snorting smack off a plate is any less real than conscious shit bout truth in the game/ so who am I today? my clothes are clean and I cuss/ I'm 25 years old still write graffiti on the bus / I love my girl I love my dog / I hate the fuckin mayor but I love the city and the fog / and I love to rap and write even if no one listen I don't see no end in sight/ and if you Playin this and really can't vibe with that, I'm really doin it for me so yo I'm fine with that . whats your mind like?
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Ickymack recommends:
bandcamp limited my review of this album to 200 characters so lets just say this- LISTEN TO ROBIN BLACK. you won't regret it!
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