Laughter Is The Best Medicine

by #thebarexam

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04:42
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about

for more music by MICjordan and TheGreenRoom, please visit:

micjordan.bandcamp.com
westtkraven.bandcamp.com

for music by other TPR artists, please visit:

Agustus ThElefant at soundcloud.com/agustus-thelefant
Bru Lei at soundcloud.com/bru-lei
Century Got Bars at century1.bandcamp.com
Mahtie Bush at mahtiebush916.bandcamp.com
MICjordan at www.reverbnation.com/micjordan916
MLS (Monotone and Lou Slug) at soundcloud.com/wearemls
Nome Nomadd at www.reverbnation.com/nomenomadd
NowOrNever (NON) at www.reverbnation.com/noworneveroftol
Old Ghost at oldghost1.bandcamp.com
Poor Majesty at poor.bandcamp.com
Styles1001 at styles1001.bandcamp.com
Tribe of Levi at tribeoflevi.bandcamp.com

credits

released October 1, 2013

all beats by TheGreenRoom
all lyrics by MICjordan:EnsiteNonStop except where otherwise noted

recorded, mixed, and mastered by MICjordan at Metroplex, Sacramento, CA

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all rights reserved

about

#thebarexam Sacramento, California

WesttKraven (aka TheGreenRoom) and MICjordan have been teaming up to create unconventional underground sounds since 2001. Rejecting the notion that hiphop shouldn't challenge its audience, the Sacramento, CA duo takes pride in making music the so-called 'wrong way.' ... more

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Track Name: 02#murdermachine
We speak to power on the Capitol steps
seize the hour like the back of your neck
this is discipline
weaklings cower from the wrath of the vets
you'll feed the flowers if you actually step!
I'm finna "finish him!"
hit him with the friendship-then I'm out, peace
you babies don't deserve fatalities
observe us blaze the stoutest beats
draped in crazed shouts and screams of amazed crowds,
we claim the clout you seek,
bang like shots rang out, brains on streets
you are lost at sea,
we are lava steaming through the bottom of the deep,
monstrous, your fear calls to me
we are the fathers whose fiendish acts make the sons and daughters weep
you are carrion, y'all want no parts of me
I am evil like the archetype of white people
and slaves in the old days who in reality were owned by-Negroes
control minds like TV shows
saying we are cold's an understatement
we're a day-with eighteen feet of snow

kill 'em all
(murder everybody)
kill 'em all
(murder everybody)
kill 'em all
(murder everybody)
I came to kill 'em all
(murder everybody)
[x2]

We take what we desire, fillet you into parts
staked over a fire, displaying your beating heart
terrifyingly efficient experts of dissection
monstrous curiosity, evil geniuses' questions
every avenue's an abbatoir,
bodysnatch you, Avatar,
Shiva, Kali, reapers, volleys carving battle scars,
cold steel cleaners, clever, cleavers sever
scythes, sickles, the reaping, you're merely meat and leather
creatures creeping, leaving freezing weather
people weeping, liters leaking, police and stretchers
trying was a sad joke potna, you cats ain't anything
we're scientists in lab coats, doctors lacking empathy
you're dying as you grab, grope awkward, gasping, grimacing
crying as your last hope's slaughtered at the guillotine
it really seems like rap is a serial killer's dream
burned and wrapped in plastic, leaving ears filled with screams

kill 'em all
(murder everybody)
kill 'em all
(murder everybody)
kill 'em all
(murder everybody)
I came to kill 'em all
(murder everybody)
[x2]
Track Name: 03#paradiselost
in '88, the scene was all love, trading dubbed tapes
now it's free MP3s and the feeling is love-hate
I'm saying, it's entertainment, but the game changed a bit
from niggas we loved to hate to tremendously fuckin' fake
so the language went from truthful to commercially fruitful
you know that gangsta shit got plenty lames paid a grip
did it doom the whole genre when Interscope's budget takes
the whole culture in a different direction, so what you make's
a reflection of intent to create disconnection
when half these fuckers are scrubbing papes or fronts for Jake
or BOTH,
so make of that what you will,
I know the game, fuck what's real, 'cause it's too complicated,
motherfuckers feel
like reality's not enough, truth is stranger than fiction
like hidden incentives to stimulate anger and friction
feeding silent partners in private prisons a new harvest
of slaves, and it's constitutional due to due process
okay, let's say for the sake of argument
it's made in a way where very few artists consciously take part in it
and the ones who find out and don't agree get targeted
so those who do, know how dangerous knowledge gets
I'm saying this while claiming it's a farce, but shit
if you're utterly heartless and rich, really how hard would it be to start that shit
if intelligence agencies bought partnerships
with media, prisons, and popular products through sponsorships
then suppressed knowledge by refusing to acknowledge important shit
or exploring it while ignoring important parts of it
who's the bard? to wit,
if there's an authorized party line, then who actually authors it?
it was written like the book of life, but if you look, goodnight
seen good men like King get cooked in the good fight
while crooks live the good life, like kings, I guess the game is just a jux, right?
No wonder listeners wanted to listen to the hood's plight;
it's their story laid bare! Staying scared to take it there
in real life so that NWA tape is where they found the gate to fair play
tear away the veil, it's so basic if we dare to face it, rare
is the man whose mind sees through time, breathing lies
isn't being my self
so of course those who like to dwell in fire say life is Hell
I'm like, why be another liar, might as well
do it to death, but is hiphop expiring? time will tell
I got more music next. Close your eyes, I write in braille.
it's the force fused with tech, Ensite is alive and well
muh'fucka... non-stoppin'!
Track Name: 04#noescape
I make waves underground in the west coast--destruction
after this cut's done you'll be finished like post production
I roast your function, not Comedy Central
Birmingham your church since you think your body's a temple
stop your life at a stoplight for trying to blot my light
more shots than 2pac, head blew off, goodnight,
Iron sights, blinding lights, you shouldn't have stood to fight
you looked tight but suck so bad you probably should bite
it's just as well, in the clutch you fail, tuck your tail and run like hell
you were constructed to fail 'cause your structure is frail,
fuck your sales, we bump like uncut rails
you'd get punked like jail, punched and wailed on, I will take your luncheon pail
your soundscans won't help you when you're a drowned man
the difference between me and you is like pounds and grams
and you're right if you're like "he's just making this up"
but you STAY playing tough, so who's really fake as fuck? WHAT

lives based on balling are the national pastime
real leaders are either offline or on standby
scandalous lies on the TV, it's a damn crime
they're after your time, it's nothing to take your last dime
lives based on balling are the national pastime
real leaders are either offline or on standby
scandalous lies in what we read, it's a damn crime
they captured your mind, so it's nothing to take your last dime

pray for us--
there's no escape from this craziness, it seems
playing games, rats racing chasing pay, slaves to cream
anxiously pacing awaiting what our fates will be
angry, hating our babies faithfully,
creative latency, fakes and schemes reshaping dreams,
we're merely crazy apes that scream
for modern Martin Luther Kings too afraid to make a scene
they're aware CIA shooters await to blank your screen
fade to black, back in the days we stayed in backs of buses
now we fill them up back to front, packed like lunches
police pointing gats that punch us as we're arrested
why question the underlying facts as we're digested
to live in the beast's bowels amidst shrieks and howls, confessions
doubtless, without outlets-we're freaking out from the pressure
grimly recounted how it ingrained initially preconditioning
niggas from infancy to continually repeat history,
grist for grisly scenes, but that isn't what you're gonna get from me, listen B:

Rhymes based on balling are the national pastime
real leaders are either offline or on standby
scandalous lies on the TV, it's a damn crime
they're after your time, it's nothing to take your last dime
Rhymes based on balling are the national pastime
real leaders are either offline or on standby
scandalous lies in what we read, it's a damn crime
they captured your mind, it's nothing to take your last dime

we were taught profit is a proper motive
so whose fault is it really when all the laws can't control it
corral or curtail it and in actuality grow it
and when you check the connections, each is mutually supported
saying it's twisted isn't the half, shit is contorted
recorded the cost even a boss couldn't afford it
it's years, but not the ones the convicted serve
it's the time our kids will live in desolation once we strip the Earth
spoke the magic words forcefully but didn't listen first
to the warnings that were attached to them
unleashed forces before we mastered them
disaster in the making building walls destined for crashing in
wars for gas begin while the masses clap and grin,
technocrats cashing in while Mad Max blasts your friends,
this is the math of sin, the wages of which are death
niggas slashed and trimmed for skating and missing steps
grubbing off gambling, that's the skim, make it stretch
it's gangsta, in days of future past, I present the present next
let it rest, in peace, pieces of a dream deceased
from the slow death of deferment, unreleased heat
woe to our foes, it's curtains, through our guns we see… our seeds