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The 24 Hours & Counting EP

by Crocker, Krosswordze, & Walter Kronkite

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1.
(Crocker Verse) /Another round up: Kross, Crocker, & Kronkite/ Walt smoothed it on out, gon' get your cigars tight/ Goin' through the count, making sure that the bars right/ A quick in and out, sun-up to the starlight/ He should've got Feather, I'm bout as smooth as a Jack shot/ Chased with kerosene, that you follow with mouthwash/ But fuck it, since we're here, say "Aah!" like your mouth's hot/ and I'll spit it back to you, be the nastiest backwash/ /Pissin' on the track, like I got no tact left/ Stay fucking up lovely, prom night and some bad breath/ Bout to seal the deal, and got not a strap left/ Reassure, then premature, start feelin' a tad stressed/ Father's son, no question, my penis thinks for me/ Screaming "T.M.I." but you can't ignore me/ I write my real life, you chumps tell stories/ You can fool those white kids, but that shit be corny/ I could never see that the Semi is you/ Just a fulla shit teddy bear: Winnie The Pooh/ Play the dozens with my bars, plenty of Proof/ Crock-Bridges Lebowski, son I'm really the Dude/ So, Lovelorn Records, kid, my record's impeccable/ And they a long way away from resembling respectable/ Convex, concave, couldn't see us with spectacles/ Know I'm a lightning rod, but please get off the testicles/ (Krosswordze Verse) /On my road to redemption/ Pains paved a path to my problems/ Previous premonition/ And prediction pierced pieces of progress/ I'm plagued with problems/ Dark deeds soaked in solvents/ Sentences of solidified solace/ In the hopes of tomorrow/ The truth is hard-pressed like benching four-fifty/ Bring the war with me/ Fight until the hoards hit me or until these whores kill me/ Deep in depression/ I seek sleep, but bleed of aggression/ So I speak speech of grief and to impeach the president/ In life's lines my lifetime ain't a channel for women/ I'm having a time trying to handle my business/ Going from aggravation to adulation for motivation/ This flow is consolation of rhyme physics practical application/ It's back to basic with flows that are packed with patience/ Precision preformed, but never be rated with greatness/ /A swarm of words, relegated to the forms preferred/ Scientific since abilities from the moment observed/ Close caption, closed casket is the life I deserve/ But is the knife when composing the urge/ Me molding the verse/ Holding the worst, controlling the hurt/ So watch as I roll in the dirt. Until they roll up in a hearse/ Then I find myself...but then again, I can't find myself/ So I look for money in mind to define my wealth/ But no one sees me and no one believes that I be the best/ So take the light that I'm reading and I'll be the only one left/ (Walter Kronkite Verse) It took two minutes for me to get up in it They put me at the back cause of the way I finish I creep in like a burglar, come in and steal your jewelry Joke with Crock and Kross and leave Tom with the foolery Ha ha… I swear I’m killing me The worst part about is y’all ain’t really feeling me The beginning of the E.P., no tearing please Ears pressed to the concrete like y’all hearing the streets Albino Rhino, I should be a comic book character My power, make it rain on your parade in any weather Never feathered, hell yeah, best bet we focused It ain’t been this serious since the Jews and the locus Power bar down, time to relax and sit back Spit tracks that give goose bumps on fine bitches cracks And that’s a fact, look it up if you don’t believe me We kill everyone we encounter and make it look easy Bringing the 80’s back like I was made from a fist pump Teaching kids to rhyme like there’s no room for bitch punks Orthodontist surgeon, stay aligning them jaws Locked, stocked, two smoking barrels as we feed ‘em to the hogs If you ain’t here to fight, then you ain’t down for the cause So quit asking for shit bitch, I’m not Santa Claus I’d like to welcome you, if you ain’t noticed by now We’re here for 24 hours to show you how we put it down
2.
(Krosswordze Verse) /Where I'm from, the lights aren't as bright as I'd like them/ / So the rhymes have more life when I write them/ Tell the truth to you/ Impale the truth thru you/ See this is "me shit", not "hard to see shit"/ Dig up the root to you/ From all the nights of hearing fight over the money for bills/ It's no wonder I'm not mentally ill/ So I essentially feel/ That the place is what makes you/ And it's what shapes you/ It's shit you're gonna be/ Not what you want to be/ That's mighty dumb of me to think/ Hope would come from me/ Any hood has problems/ But I gotta deal with them/ Spectate or participate/ Or you just live with them/ Come out a rose or decompose/ That's the hard part of it/ You've got be smart of it/ And this is home of the heart of it/ Regardless of the hardness of all the shit that I am scarred with/ And that's why I started it/ I could be a part of it/ Now I'm taking 'part the shit/ (Walter Kronkite Verse) Mother’s drugged out, throwing shit on the lawn Any kind of decency’s been long gone They try to tell me cocaine is a hell of a drug But crack’s where it’s at where I grew up Any role model that wasn’t biting a pipe, Was one with anger issues that just hated life? At least more than twice I’ve had a guy pull a knife You better walk away before I catch a contact high Karma’s a motherfucker, that’s why I wear a rubber I always sport a raincoat in any kind of weather Looking back in the past, still can’t laugh /It’s like smelling garbage after taking out the trash/ /I remember many lessons way before my time/ /Like the color the water changes after you drop your dime/ /Never got money or clothes from any a list/ /I guess I’ll make due til cheap gets me famous/ (Crocker Verse) /See that paint chip, faucet leaks drop/ Curled up, denim coat and some worn Reebok's/ The cold makes the bone chill, won't cease. Stop!/ Try to numb with dollar-beer, feel your right knee lock/ Ain't shaved in months, Shower, forget it!/ Last meal, a Debbie cake, can coke, and come chips and/ Didn't settle shit, hear your stomach a bitchin'/ Thinking of your family and the tear in the stitchin'/ Gave careless forgiveness for the prayer that you'd listen/ Unaware of tradition, and the ware that you're fixed in/ Feel that roach crawl, feelin' despair/ Hell you'd cry again, but who would hear you or care?/ Those stains on your pipe, went and painted your soul/ Disengaged, been afraid, down in a hole/ In control, out control, hopin' you fold/ Death'd be release, hell's suffering old/
3.
(Krosswordze Verse) /She is my type, five-foot five,brown eyes, thick thighs, chick rides any time I beckon/ As far as fresh ,she comes right out the package/ Bringing rah,rah, and racket/ Is she dope? No need in you guessing/ Very opinionated, most of friends are flavor/ But she is the Sargent Major/ In the army of hot babes/ Got rear for years, I grin ear to ear/ Other brothers give Leers, but her place is right here/ Never is it an issue of neglect or misuse/ I'm her cocoa brother, she's my Swiss misses /In which this is the part that I'm not getting/ I'm saying, I'm not sweating ,she'd never leave/ Or at least I like to believe /But if there is another dude, I think I'll be cool /Naw I'll probably act a fool like Ludacris do/ Not that I'm jealous but if I find that fella/ I'll chop up his spine with helicopter propellers/ (Crocker Verse) /Kross spoke about a broad, so I'ma speak about you/ How you leave my pockets limp, never say "I love you too"/ Talk to me all the time, undivided my attention/ Speak about your problems, insecurities, & wishes/ How even though you're older, you're not like the other bitches/ Raised lower class 'till you came upon some riches/ Such a negative image when they speak of your description/ They scare of your confidence and defiant positions/ I revel in it baby, dig the vibe that you give/ And my people get live when you're around 'em and shit/ But you stay taking from me, might ruin my future/ Be 40, credit shot, in a rust out Supra/ My exes hate you, said you always had me/ Since '04, on and off, can't last, sadly/ Nights I'd see you out, you'd always grab me/ Back smiling and laughing & pick right up rapping/ (Walter Kronkite Verse) /No other man competes; you can’t just leave me This isn’t me mad, angry, or greedy There’s never been time where I’ve ever been needy But at this moment, I need you to need me I want you to want me, in my dreams you haunt me But in actuality, all you do is taught me But it’s ok, I swear I’ll love every minute If this was jail time, I’d be ok with the sentence Asking you to come home, forget these clowns We can move to another town if you’ll just come now Kross don’t know you; Crock wants what he can’t have Me, I’m the perfect package, I’ve done had it in the bag If women were butter, I can’t believe you ain’t real Yeah, I know it’s cheesy, with me you get your fill Just come home baby, the bed’s been calling Penis been screaming, so why you stalling?/
4.
(Crocker Verse) /I write 'cause stackin' chips means: more weight on my shoulder/ Another cross to bare, another valley to soldier/ Write for the peaks that seem so out of reach/ That they'll turn an ear here, and take the time for my piece/ That there's dawn after the dusk that I paint on a beat/ That rap's more than a trend of actin' a hood in the street/ That Caz'll get his due and the money that's owed him/ I write to keep it balanced, gravity into motion/ Write to show my brothers that you can be who you want/ And not have to fall prey to that small town rot/ Minimum wage job and a dub-wide trailer/ Everything Wal-Mart, not a bit of it tailored/ Write to escape the place that defines me so/ Where they prefer I take it down and to rhyme beats slow/ Write to show the contradictions, yeah, even my own/ I write to bring the light and hope it tides me close/ (Krosswordze Verse) /If ever were there a reason, a motivation for speaking/ /I know a nation that's grieving, cause it's people are bleeding/ /Forced into believing what the media feed it/ Agreeing that we're needing to see what they ain't feeding/ Hope isn't among us/ The darkness is breeding a fungus/ A pestilent plague that poisons peoples & pages/ My history promise, of living life in abundance/ Won't change the horrors that hunt us and then those that confront us/ They say that music is the thing that's keeping me young/ I say I'm "The revenge of a slave who was beating and hung"/ So I cringe from the hate and the grief of the dumb../ And I can't understand, the streets are so numb/ /To be bequeathed with a queen and a crown of knowledge/ And all the stuff I never learned in college/So my fears are abolished, and my peers become polished/So they shine, We shine, the labels' demolished/ And in time, I find, that mine's can reach the stars/ So you see us? Yeah, we tear it apart/ And I know it can reach us/ And I want to speak to all of us, each of us/ That's why Kris Parker is the greatest to teach it/ Crocker told Kronkite to get Kross to write it/ So Kross put it down and now Kross is excited/ So this cross that I carry be the cross that ignites us/ Carry us past the threshold and we united/ (Walter Kronkite Verse) /Page filled antidotes stimulating your mind Bars for the stars and a flow beyond your time My peace is inner, kind of strange for a white guy Throwing words together martial arts, cut it up, samurai I don’t blur my face because I’m camera shy I just want you to hear the music before you decide Until then, get all of my words come in as shots Sly fox, crazy thinking, mind outside the box I got something that others can’t be taught And a story, I’ve been told, won’t be bought Not looking for gratification, more like anticipation I feel like I’m always racing, and everyone I’m facing Please test my lines, I bet they won’t break Cause one thing my lines are? Never fake Murder on the mic, got a homicidal outlook Arson when they start him, don’t even need a matchbook/
5.
(Walter Kronkite Verse) /I’m coming in, trying to achieve the American dream But it’s the only thing I’m gonna do until it’s time to leave Money in that drop box, ego past that normal stee-lo Actions colder than below, why you fucking with me hoe Got that blade in the pocket, hearing voices say stop it I’m just a stupid watch kid who can’t seem to clock it I need some adrenaline, and I’m sickened by you simpletons Bitches get mad when they learn more ‘bout the inner him My life’s been fucked since the sound of a gunshot Drop a bomb at a 7 Eleven, kill y’all in one stop Killing for a cure, while y’all paying for some loving I murder for the fun of it, shooting while your running I’m dumping while I’m gunning, steady laughing while you crying Should’ve known better than to bet against a lion So best advice to hide all the women and babies Cause whoever I aim at is pushing up daisies/ (Crocker Verse) /I dig your smile and your walk, there's something calming about/ Sets me out to ease, something charming about it/ I love how you love me, there's something honest about it/ Cynical as I am, I'm a kid when around it/ Luck's bottomed out, bout to buy some cartons now/ Chain-smoke til my throat bleeds my esophagus out/ Bob James on repeat, zoned to Nautilus now/ Mirror cracked, staring at who I'm targeting now/ Reach for the phone, when it's best that I shouldn't/ 'Cause how I really feel don't reciprocate what you put in/ You see what I could, not the box that I'm put in/ Open up your heart and I pretend that I look in/ But I'm down, so I call, with selfish intentions/ Conversation, you're elated, look happy to listen/ I know where this is leading, now, wish that I didn't/ You know, true quote, I hope you never forgive this/

about

A one off EP wrote and recorded with Walter Kronkite, Krosswordze of The LoneGunmen, & myself in 24 hours . Entirely produced by Walter Kronkite.

credits

released July 4, 2012

T. Crocker, Jr., D. Harris, & C. Diamond

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about

Crocker Spartanburg, South Carolina

Co-Founder of LVLRN RCRDS (Lovelorn Records).
Your Favorite Rappers Favorite Cracker
Spartanburg, SC Native.
Marxist Gnostic.

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