Years of Rain

by Khemmeta

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  • Digital Album

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about

Every silver lining has a cloud. This is the autobiography of a whore trying to "walk between the raindrops" as Iceberg Slim once put it. A broad snapshot. In all honesty, this is the calm, before the storm. But the storm is coming. After the rain comes the harvest. Hope rides tomorrow.

KMT/AI/CC

credits

released 20 November 2012
All songs produced, written, performed and recorded by Khemmeta, on his laptop the Giant Portable, except where otherwise noted. Allied Intelligence is a licensed trademark.

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Track Name: Everybody Dies
they laid him face down in a puddle of his daughter's blood
snatched out her neck by a bullet from a copper's gun
the kinda rage that's only stifled by a daughte'rs love
the kinda day that wasn't scheduled for the martyrdom

she's innocent, but did you really need to hear that too?
what would make it fair game? if the girl had had a back tattoo
or daddy had a hoodie, would it matter if they're black or blue
if moms was doing acid, crack, or sober, would that matter too?

PEACEMAKER, live from the beast maker
pride city, USA, right where they breed haters
teenagers catch it daily in the hood, we get desensitized
i guess that's prolly why outsiders fail to sympathize

i guess that's also why meserle got a sentence like
he robbed a fucking corner store, it's not as if he ended life
i mean, for real, it's not like oscar's skin was white
the suburbs watched the shot from home but didn't comprehend the sight

public execution on the fly, another kid loses a life
another pig has crossed the line, but no big deal in sight
retroactive lynch mobs whitewash fascists' little crimes
maybe if Emmitt Till were teal you might just feel his plight

maybe on April 22nd when you see a 9 year old
playing alone you might resist the urge to dial that 9
11 number and have the dispatcher say you abused the line
maybe when they tell you not to follow him, you do comply

but we all know, how it really went
black kid, hooded sweatshirt, must've been a miscreant
look at him defend his right to live, like Neli Latson?!
wasn't s'posed to fight back like that, you had to blast him

Zimmerman and John Sanford standing their ground
safety was still on the skittles, one suspicious kid down, wow
they thought his cloth was easier for the blame
that's why Geraldo rocks his own hypocrisy in the rain


everybody hurts, everybody cries
not everyone truly lives, but everybody dies
and we don't know the hour or day, or the route or the way
or the how or the fate, no way to counter it

everybody loves, everybody tries
everybody slips, but everyone doesn't fly
and when gravity's attacking who's the winner of the battle?
status quo puts you beneath the earth under the gravel

everybody bleeds, everybody lies
everyone doesn't work, everyone doesn't thrive
and the sweat and good behavior get rewarded in the inverse
no good deed will ever go unpunished, and that shit hurts

everybody hurts, everybody cries
not everyone truly lives, but everybody dies and I'M
black bloc'n on the city of rap
laughing at pussy muthafuckas feeling pity for glass.
Track Name: The Occupants
2 trillion in bailouts 2 hundred billion in bonuses
3 hundred million Maydoffed and punked on the hocus pocus tip
3 million homeowners reading foreclosure notices
1 shining city whose major export is hopelessness
don't forget, Troy ain't the only state sponsored tragedy
more of our soldiers murk theyselves than finished in Afghani heat
war budget never ever drops into the heroes' pockets
their sacrifices won't matter when they're back here and jobless
we are the 99, we are the War Class
unprotected, unemployed, fuck it call it the Poor Class
spinning our wheels for the blessed ones in the More Class
expecting rewards and instead we're treated like whore ass
we aren't asking for handouts, we want our earnings
and if they hide inside of that building they'll find it burning
they sharked the game for too long, tables are turning
we're a horde of angry parents whose starving babies are hurting
we are the occupants
they forged our mortgages and called us the undocumented
we been here decades, and now they want us to stop existing
remove our lives from the premises for the profit vision
we loaned the loansharks the dollars to keep their halls in business
they kept on sticking it to us as if we're awesome victims
so we came to collect, including all the interest
they want our houses? we're locking down their metropolis
no more bullshit this porta potty is occupied
sew the assholes shut, now there's no one to talk those lies
set up stopping lights, and booths to let the gold go
wall street is our street, so you can pay the road tolls
we'll be marching til our rage is fucking smashing these walls
champaign fat cats think it's party time, sanity calls
they won't be smiling snapping photos when the balcony falls
JP Morgan's enforcers can't lock up gravity y'all
get a fucking clue.


WE ARE THE MULTITUDE, AND WE ARE NOT THE DEAD TODAY
WE ARE NOT THE SLEEPING GIANT, WOKE UP FROM THE BED TODAY
TRY TO PEN US IN, NEVER'S WHAT WE'LL NEVER SAY
WHAT YOU GOT? OUR EYES ARE MADE OF TEAR GAS AND PEPPER SPRAY
WE ARE THE MULTITUDE, AND WE ARE NOT THE DEAD TODAY
WE ARE NOT THE SLEEPING GIANT, WOKE UP FROM THE BED TODAY
TRY TO PEN US IN, NEVER'S WHAT WE'LL NEVER SAY
WHAT YOU GOT? OUR EYES ARE MADE OF TEAR GAS AND PEPPER SPRAY
we are. . .