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Squires, The Cynic, & Rapswell are​.​.​.​PENPALS

by PENPALS

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1.
Rapswell: PEN PALS! Yo we at it again We been writin all night with a pad and a pen I scribbled vocab to go with a dope track and wrote that Incredible thing with indelible ink I spoke fast and I thought quicker Then I discovered the weed and the malt liquor Now I'm even more sicker Squires, Cynic, & Rapswell What a brutal match We got a way with the words just like Google maps Cynic The Apache: Usin that rhetoric to pen a letter to my pals Tell these fucksticks to get back and get down We only bustin headshots Leave you with the kind of fave that Harvey Dent got The flowin's red hot Accomplices consist of ex-cops and some wise guys Keep my dick unprotected like your wi-fi Times flies when we have fun, we have a lot of it Score the poet laureate position with all of these accomplishments We rockin it Louis Schlamawitz interlude Cynic The Apache: More cushion for the pushin so I'm pushin for days She got her puss pushed in my face, I'm lookin displaced Squires hit me with the beat then I took it away Never do the dishes, she can't cook in my place 'Less it's the chicken cutlets, sauteed in the stinky onions Treat my lady fans like finger puppets Gettin funded for spittin rugged Til I live in London They slowin down, but we gon keep on sprintin Fuck it! Rapswell: We bring da ruckus son You really oughta mention me Cuz I'm dope as a dispensary You'll see eventually Yo I'm meant to be sittin inside of an exotic ride Instead I'm just wondering how to survive Cuz we're alive in this odd place, full of heartbreaks Don't know how much I can take, about to go out like Scarface This joint is laced with the lyrical taste Plus dust that's brushed off from diggin in the crates
2.
The Comeback 03:31
Rapswell: Yo it's the baddest kids, the verbal catalyst Talentless rappers had to battle this to learn the words I spit are so hazardous I had a list of the illest emcees in the universe But soon a verse came in my head that made me forget who was first Like a Lacuna nurse, an enemy of memory The only remedy's searchin for your true identity Serenity enters me from here to Tennessee An this menace be, yet another MC you cannot see A grown dude that owns shoes in chrome hues And when it comes time to pwn noobs, I don't lose I've had enough of rappers actin like they bad as fuck I chatted up the slut with the fattest butt and spat a nut You outta luck, your shit is wack and comatose Even your momma knows you took a fall like dominoes So vamanos, got more flavor than Gushers The spot rusherz Yeah you get props! But not as much as us HOOK Cynic The Apache: Hear no evil, see no evil but we speak a lot it Rapswell: These amateurs and novices get smacked for actin childish C: Hold the weight of Free Willy R: We chillin in the cut Mercy me ya mans a villain, killin every mic we touch Cynic The Apache: I'm like when that lightning struck the kite Benny Franklin held Stash up in my socks, so no wonder why the ankles smell When that angel fell I snatched em out of the sky Split a 40 with em, gave the man a pound, then good bye Heard the sound of a siren and ran, thinkin like a rebel Disorderly conduct for drinkin with the Devil Never payin my fine bitch, choosin my alignment Learned this trick from Nas, only stare at your eyelids Never sleep tho, always check the peephole Hurt em with the vocals, these okeydokes melt down like Chernobyl *Shit talking* Cynic: APACHE! The man to call when your problem's messy You wanna mouth off? Suck on my colossal testes The apostles blessed me, all 12, at the last supper Mass ruckus, blast suckas The wreckage is impeccable Rapswell: Turn you fruits into vegetables, it's easy Me n Cynic we be on the top like ZZ Or Mt. Olympus, down to rip this track to the end And we sound the slickest so we never have to pretend And Cynic: We some true scholars, study til our heads are full You n your man on the throne, knock you off your pedestal Kick it intellectual, or we rap ignorant Rapswell: Countin stacks of wax while we smokin jazz cigarettes Since I met The Cynic it's been double on the wordplay Cuz real lyricism isn't dead, fuck what herbs say Survey says: most people don't know shit! Rather dance around with glowsticks Fuck em the flow's sick Time to spark shit, up in the mosh pit I'm feelin nauseous, put the quill to the parchment An everything's mo better, so fed up with dumb raps Strictly boom bap So you know it's The Comeback HOOK
3.
STFU 04:13 video
Swell: I make a song that's catchy with the Apache We some latchkey kids that are known internationally Cynic The Apache: Only eat the snatch if it's fantastic b Fashionably late to a dinner date Me n Cynic innovate Switchin lanes on the interstate Thinkin bout the cash we finna take We grab the stash then we grin n skate Cuz we're cold like a winter day Plus it's blustery, house filled with mice and dirty cutlery Go ahead, fuck with me Matter of fact, fuck with us Break ya neck like Bussa Bus Rhymin bout disgusting stuff At your Gma’s crib, baking cookies then I bust a nut You suckas better pucker up, hit em with the upper cut Cynic with the Philly Shell, Swell got the blunderbuss Thunderous applause for the humble fucks! Hit em with a couple bucks we generous gentlemen Genitals be draggin on the ground, I got that heavy dick Never let Berettas rip But tell em bout that mescaline Excellent, cover you with colorful confetti spit Yo we rhymin sick Won't be satisfied until we're signing tits And divin in vagina lips Strictly from the hard bars Can't remember where the fuckin car's parked Standin still with Nardwuar, march against the Sarduakar Masters of the art of war, studied the terrain Mapped it in our brain Smashed the window pane Crashed the plane Cracked the safe Smacked you in ya face son We rhyme iller Fear is the mind killer I'm feelin great, make papes like Bill Gates And ill tapes filled with straight billingsgate They buried me alive, I still escaped But I lost a fuckin lung Torque wrench under the tongue Some sunuvaguns, fuckin with us you'll catch a punch in the nuts Wake up to blackness cuz you're stuffed in a trunk Me n Swell'll do a hit, just for a quarter prolly Yo I caught a body by pushing over the port-a-potty Whoa La-di-da-di We likes to party Order up the pizza, pepperoni and the sardines Ya nahmean My crew don't do much On the roof, view's plush Two hundred dollar toothbrush Never had to move drugs, only had to spit words Drop a sick verse, hittin bitches til my dick hurts Mixed elixirs made by a witch doctor Hit yo bitch with the shocker like shiiiiit GOTCHA! Tossin in Siracha for the hotness, rock this Only for the love not the profit, that shit's obnoxious Equip binoculars and spot em from a distance Rapswell n Cynic been a couple sinnin misfits I'm toe tagging these no dough havin Frodo Baggins Slow as Volkswagons eat you like komodo dragons My modem laggin but I'm still watching efukt with three sluts Squeezin on deez nuts, son try to keep up We speak rough, conversatin on the late night Takin bites of prey we in the nation of the Great Whites Break mics on stage, I know you gon remember this We blow your spot up like it's London on November 5th We blending piff with the Bally Shag Holla back Ain't no time to lollygag Jack you for your trolley pass You prolly mad cuz we zipped you up inside the body bag Rock mics in the Temple of Doom until the columns collapse We caught you lookin Off puttin Sauce cookin Lost in Brooklyn Hear the sound of applause Now bring the hook in HOOK Talkin shit about my squad OH MY GOD! STFU You need to SHUT THE FUCK UP Talkin shit about my crew son? Who the hell are you??!! STFU You need to SHUT THE FUCK UP Incoherent mumbling
4.
Rapswell: The raps gon stomp on you flat like a car demolisher Do you want more?!?!???!!! Cuz I'm starvin like Oliver Not a follower, I'm a born leader Clockwork Orange reader, talkin nadsat in the porn theater Up in the spot, greeted by hostile stares No choice but to start tearin out nostril hairs Say your prayers yo I'm nothin but bad news Mad rude, shootin lightnin bolts back at Zeus I smash taboos While the dude called Squires makes the fat beats crunchy as cat food SNAFU, situation is not right The nation wasting time with political cockfights And still I'm able to rock mics and do work Like my grandfather's Bambaataa or Kool Herc Show respect, so I kick an old school verse I'm droppin jewels son, this is proof that the truth hurts HOOK You think you hot but you ain't rippin it son My style's raw ghost pepper on the tip of my tongue You know the deal Ill flows and true skills The dudes who kill without havin to use blue steel Cynic The Apache: It's Apache and Rapswell comin from the depths of hell Lame dudes tryin to fake moves, took a step and fell Bless the L with Afghani Kush, you can check the smell C-Y-N-I-C, hope you know the letters spell The one and only OE chuggin sunuvagun Never fuck with phonies, trust me me homey under the sun Prolly none as ill as me, abilities can reach way past Any other brother holdin the mic, so let's face facts Dudes who chase cash stop writin n call it quits Chuggin all your liquor and the wine, alcoholic tip Sellin me your baller shit, tomorrow I'm returnin it Injectin rhymes into your bloodstream, bring the tourniquet Hope you learn it quick, know the deal with these cats The flow is real, never hold the steel that's a weak rap Make a clown bow down so fast that his knees crack You can eat crap, fuck critiques and ya feedback HOOK
5.
Blue 03:09
Cynic The Apache: Sometimes I feel like I'm livin life in City 17 Fall asleep and see blackness, these obsidian dreams Sick of the people pitying me, sure she's pretty in pink But probably prettier with an opinion, whattaya think? I hope you agree, she gotta have more brains than just Chokin on d, so pale I'm soakin in bleach And I feel the feeling of defeat is fleeting but I need it, it's key To feel successes I reach, the pressure's building I'm restless, need sleep, my mind keep running Give me a second to breathe On second thought, pick the pace up Y'all spit the same stuff I wanna be ahead of the curve, a major change up I came here ready to work Sever your nerves from your brain, promise it's painless Picasso couldn't paint a better picture I'm not famous but I will be, you don't feel me? Take a step closer, the winds'll knock on your back Stay on top of your tower, I'm at the bottom with an axe HOOK: Rapswell: I'm feelin blue like the ox of Paul Bunyan I gots the jaw runnin, now the props are all comin Cuz I got these fools lookin like they chopped a raw onion My commentary's so cunning, flow's stunning Cynic: It's a rainy Monday morning and I'm feelin so blue Take the day off: Me, myself, & I with cold brew There's a mystery to life but I'm left with no clues Tryin to find my soul, help me fill up these old shoes Rapswell: Now it's time to build with the skills my accomplice Put down the pen and spill my subconscious on this, And music's the outlet Wear my heart on my sleeve like it's part of the outfit Tryna tell you how I really feel about shit Which isn't very easy to do usin the alphabet This composition is for those that doubt me A natural born writer like Hank Bukowski Or Kurt Vonnegut, yeah I'ma get literary The way I baffle emcees on the regular's a little scary I spit a paragraph out like a loose toof It shoots through the room, then we gotta new tune Deeper than the sound of a bassoon when I flow god Yo I'm comin like Omar, you know I'll go far My words travel across the globe like a postcard Conduct myself like Mozart for the most part HOOK
6.
Burners 03:20
Rapswell: The blank page is the enemy or more like a sparring partner In the end I'll be the one you can call an author Philip Roth of the manuscript The left hand is inanimate The right writes with reckless abandon It's a joy to remove an organ From a man who is not supportin Insubordinate, it's important According to laws of rap ethics Eatin all the scraps then I'm comin back for seconds The track beckons and this one's beautiful The way I wreck it's undisputable Suitable for city dwellers and the little fellas in the forest Got gnomes bobbin their domes to the chorus The beat's porous and I leak in Change the whole zeitgeist just by speakin Yes I'm seekin the question to the answer of 42 This life, universe, and everything I thought it through Cynic The Apache: Swell n Cynic penny pinchin til we at the top R: That's how we livin ain't no different, tell your moms and pops C: That's how we rock R: Stop! C: No need to grip chrome R: We been rockin mics since you were sportin the flip phone The Cynic: And they knockin on my door like "Hey, is the kid home?" Nah he out sippin Kool Aid with Rev. Jim Jones Still ain't drop dead, ain't got bread I got soul Now my conscious won't leave me alone Drop the money where I tell you when we speak on the phone Don't make me tell ya twice to leave your heater at home Keepin it low key It's so easy, eat a rapper and shit em out Softer than a grown man pissing while sittin down When I'm droppin a verse I make em stop and observe Bright mind, disconnect those optical nerves Old knowledge like the rocks in the earth I'm the man in the spot Leather band on that mechanical watch She not a fan of the cock? Can tell she's lyin Verses on papyrus, I been miles ahead of em And I always leave my footprints for evidence Wreckin em with gusto Gung ho, tell em we some veterans R: Swell n Cynic penny pinchin til we at the top C: This how we livin, ain't no different tell your moms and pops R: It's how we rock C: Stop R: Some lunatic minds C: We been up in your face, you dialin *69 R: Get ready, I'm known to be petty Settle arguments with the help of a machete Flip on ya like Gyp Rossetti I'm a problem Mark another win in your spinal column Stay solemn as an undertaker, love to hate ya Make ya run your pacemaker son We hittin harder than some Ginger Baker drums C: Takin funds and attackin the wackness right at the source of it If I'm not rappin I'm at the castle practicing sorcery No magic, it's alchemy when I scorch emcees I get off on a dope beat (Pr0n sounds) It's actually like porn to me Brought up on some vinyl scholarship Known to pick up chicks at the gynocologist Scoop em out the waiting room, then I ask em how they hymen is If the shit's intact, she bout to know what time it is R: Swell n Cynic penny pinchin til we at the top C: This how we livin, ain't no different tell your moms and pops R: It's how we rock C: Stop! R: We at the battle spot C: Kickin rhymes since you callin collect with Carrot top C: Swell n Cynic penny pinchin til we at the top R: This how we livin, ain't no different tell your moms and pops C: It's how we rock R: Stop! C: Find your way home We in the booth while you tossin your quarters in pay phones
7.
HOOK They wanna slit our necks on some cut throat shit Step in our home and you know that's where GUSTO lives Talk shit… NAH SON, you better shut yo lips Everyone around the town say don’t trust those kids Rapswell: I’m an amalgam of shit you hear on ODB’s album Along with tough talk and Maltese Falcon Word is bond, I’m about to steal my own grammy kid Take advantage on some good friends of the family shit Cynic The Apache: I’m the bomb diggy, No Bob Digi, this Bobby Noble Kick it local for now, ten years, we probably global Tossing rocks at the popo, before we hop in the Volvo And then it’s back to the cribbo, so we can chop up the vocals  Jamii Bass: Reusing condoms to fuck you filthy animals Give me lip I'll snatch your weave off on the avenue Strangle you, type of dude that’s eastbound and down I’ll practice at slapping you, Hop on your couch with my rabbit boots And happily snap at you if I’m tempted And your ass is not protected? Get injected with bum semen use that turkey baster method No regards or recognitions steal your grandmother's collection of silverware Asking god if I should give a fuck replied that I shouldn’t care, I swear HOOK Cynic: I’m gunning it, wind sprints, aint no leisurely strolls Made in the shade, paving the way, we clearing the road You a bum a fucking chump I hear the fear in ya throat Level the whole fucking city like Akira came home Rapswell: We keep on makin hits, we aint part of Illuminati They’ll find the scars we left when they exhume your body Hot toddy squad, You better pray to your Gods Or hope your spaceship's got escape pods Taking jobs from honest hard working Americans my MO The hitman disguised as driver of the limo  Spin around and fire two, you get the day off Then point the whip in the direction of the pay off Jamii: My mother's biggest mistake, I spit that shit that you wouldn’t dare I snap your daughter in half and break her back with a wooden chair Nah I’m lying, I just feed her dick and splash on her derriere If it’s precious I’ll still eat it just as long it aint hairy there HOOK Jamii: Filthy animal, better known as Carl Weathers to my two brothers Obnoxious arrogant ignorant still no one is above us I'm rushing radio stations to play us with no payola Sucking sloppy spaghetti sauce off your mom’s areola Cynic: Watchin tentacle porn with identical whores Pulling my dick with the Vulcan grip till my testicles sore Fuckin sluts, think they passed ya man the genital warts.. Better tell these motherfuckers that we’re ready for war Machete’s and swords a massacre. What a fucking amateur She can’t handle my massive girth, sickened by the catheter Won’t be surprised if I’m catching herps afterwards Fuck it, it’s the truth I’m being honest and the facts can hurt Rapswell: It’s hot fuckery, nukkas can not fuck with me These jagoffs should back off and stop suckin me Luckily for them I’m a pacifist That means I pass my fist through the fucking face of these rapping kids HOOK Cynic: Copping top in corollas like, The fuck I need a beamer for? No stopping no hold ups I tell her keep sucking the penis off  Please be warned, you see the kid skiddadle lickity split.  They aint on my nuts yet, but they licking the tip You fuck around you catch a kick in the ribs This that gourmet these other fucking dicks spitting the kibbles and bits Rapswell: They some bitches by definition And we the illest, no time for objectivism, Check the mechanism I inspire wack clones like T Pain Spit on the track like I’m waiting for the G train We came we saw and we conquered All over a beat that’s BONKERS Jamii: It’s nothing to call her, Meet her then slaughter I got’s to have it She reached down and ripped off my banana hammock I’m stuffin muffs, with these disgusting fucks Catch me fucking these sluts, while they bumpin they cunts I’m ratchet HOOK
8.
R. Crumb 04:05
HOOK Stackin rhymes Y'all can peep the catalogue Maker's Mark, Texas Hold Em with the tarot cards Kick a fly verse Then these bastards gone Thick women n mics is what I'm smashin on Cynic The Apache: Terabyte to the back of the head stashin files After a while, you guaranteed to say these crackers wild In the spots where the OG's scratchin vinyl Crushin concrete, crackin tiles My head's wrapped with wires Rapswell: We on the track by Squires, flatten your tires Me n Cynic be the reason that these rappers retired Hang it up, we'd had enough of hearing that you slangin drugs The world's fucked, it ain't wrong if you blamin us Cynic: Playin the cut in the corner poppin a molly cap Rockin a Stalin 'stache Old school, Hollis Ave Told you, we never droppin stacks on gold jewels Royalty raisin their glasses up to make a toast to Rapswell: My whole crew feisty like a young Pacino Yo we runnin the casino, soon to blow like Gus Fring tho Deeper than the voice of Bun B goes, amigos Drinkin vino with some guidos screamin out "Rumino!!!" HOOK Cynic: Tired of these kids flashin average bars Carrying cannons like they been havin Samus' arm Once the barrier's crossed, guaranteed they sportin soiled chinos Tryna find my fortune, vacation up in resorts, casinos Maybe a villa, makin a killin droppin dominos With a mafiosa out on the Almafi coast Fuck rockin a sloppy flow, we bonifed Real Rap Raw So that mask you wearin, peel that off Who you foolin, sippin on grapes, publishing music Need the best never settle for less, no substitutions Rapswell: Kinetically, I approach the mic with a pedigree Always on a quest to be a better MC Sittin in the park on some Motown type doo wop Words spark like an oowop, you do not Jam with the technique, nasty with the etiquette Stay grimy like a third world settlement Represent HOOK Cynic: Dodging bullets, breakin limbs Like I been trainin in the Matrix with the Agent Smith Fuck a DVD, I rock a laser disc Spittin heinous shit that makes you sick You better take it with a grain of salt We watch your brain dissolve Rapswell: Paint a portrait, you poor kids should forfeit Get off it, you on some baby dick sorta soft shit Poppin pills like Morpheus I'm awfully sick Thinkin dark thoughts, go into a coffin to spit I'm an ill guy, drop science like Bill Nye Spittin like I'm a llama til these muthafuckas realize It feels nice to kick mathematics Kicked most of my bad habits except I'm still a rap addict Quit spittin, and in six minutes Cynic: Yo we back at it Spasmadic up on the stage, they tell us relax Get slap happy We gainin capital off these tracks Addicted to the mics, we put em down but then we relapse HOOK
9.
Cynic The Apache: Fresh grapes gettin jammed beneath my cold feet Angelina Jolie wanna handle my cannoli And my family always told me get it in with a famous broad Stay with your squad and don't even think of hatin on mine Savin my time for sprayin these rhymes with the eloquence Of pelicans diving for a fresh catch Make an okeydoke nod his head until his neck snap My best tracks comin from the lockbox, you not hot I make em stop drop n roll, I'm not opposed to knockin foes down like dominoes Stop your flow it's trash for amateurs I'm a connasseur, sippin liquor til I vomit on your floor Bringin large force to the session, abort with the weapons I mean it was cool when it was torture with Method So what happened? Guess they forgot where it came from It's all about bass son, not spittin that great funk So let me be the one who really writes the message They admire autotune instead of dudes in cypher sessions That's the type of lesson to take the monkey off my fuckin back I'm shaking up the game like a rumble pack Pussy Charles Schwab: Bougie bitch threw me designer condoms, Prada on my third leg High fashion smashin, never felt this classy in action She even kept her pinky up when she started duck sickin She loved  my song, we played it loud and thats before we bumped *Buhkaccckkk* Gotta love it Love bragging about the music my crew's making with no budget Just some bogies and some dutches and some 40s and my musket My pen explodes loads of gold fool This my career weapon, yeah my Pro Tool I'm old school, satisfied by hard bars Not this new fuckshit where you stutter about your hot cars Mama bred a rap star, climbed out the womb holdin a mic Cyphers in the nursery thru the thick of the night I'm never gettin it right, a hard headed muthafucka Never went to high school, I went to school high Cool guy Homies with the thugs, just in case a smart guy tried to exude his confidence, I had some homies that would bug *I dont why i cant remember this line man, FUCKKK!* I slam poetry and smack poets, at an open mic Then choke a dyke with my fuckin bare dick Then do tricks up in the uterus, I aint new to this Been doing magic for a decade, watch me prove it, BITCH! When you were playing Mortal Kombat about to finish him I was watching girls look for their panties after finishing Run game, scrimmaging  All along the east coast, Parlay in boston, that where i got my first deep throat Homegirls ask me, why you rap so nasty?? You gave me the material, to you, I owe this grammy Peace to my lady friends, peace to my lovers If it wasnt for the hot sex, i'd still be undiscovered Jamii Bass: Yeah they say the mission is impossible Murder Tom Cruise just to show you folks what I could do Came from out of the hospital from bein the sickest I use my tongue to make her come, time to show her what my cockatoo Talkin bout hip-hop, the only bitch I love She so corrupted tho, she'll cut your throat Pussy good but fuck it though Never lose the feeling even when I'm on a buncha coke Life's a bitch she's such a joke, but give me head and suck it slow Always feelin comfortable, even I'm awkward That's why I fly with Faux Pas, you see me in the cockpit Til I'm in a coffin, love actin retarded Ain't bout the money, but I could say I'm happy you bought it Classic! Comin from the team that knows the rules Drastic, Jamii be the one to blow the fuse See I'm 27, still feelin like 19 doe They say I bring the wave remind you of El Niño Rapswell: Yo I sip the lager then I hit the bottle over heads of men That try to spit bravado, talkin shit at my recital Yo I'm gettin homicidal over drum tracks Verbal gun claps is what happens, around rappers I run laps I'm an original son, you can't copy cat The animated style Hayao Miyazaki raps Howl's Moving Castle, run up on you wearin hockey masks The Bash Bros, we smash yo, it ain't no stoppin that Ta ra ra boom dee yay And all you sleepy muhfuckas are soon to pay Cuz even if you don't see me, know that I'm still a threat Out of sight, yet I be killin it with my silhouette Willin to be tyou're a punk kid Now I woke ya little silly ass up son, who'd a thunk it? Brought the funk talkin mad jive But at the end of the day, just be glad that you're alive Am I in place with the bass and format? Explore rap and tell me CYNIC ain't all that Am I in place with the bass and format? Explore rap and tell me SCHWAB ain't all that Am I in place with the bass and format? Explore rap and tell me JAMII ain't all that Am I in place with the bass and format? Explore rap and tell me SWELL ain't all that WHAT
10.
Cynic The Apache: You don’t know? Rapswell: Theres no hope C: Quotes in the overcoat R: Yo we so dope, never sold dope C: We the reason old folks decide to relocate R: It’s okay C: Munching crab legs with the Old Bay R: You obey when we giving orders with the Voice  C: You getting double crossed, fucked over like an altar boy R: You fuckin with the art of noise C: Running with the Barbaroi  R: Coming with more lines then a mime wearing corduroys C: Riding star destroyers, Hopping through hyperspace You feeling some type of way? You getting punched in the face For a couple of days till we rupture ya veins, R: Slow down son, you're confusing their intellect You know that me and Cynic been a vet before the internet C: I’m killin these kids, fuck slowing down cuz my abilities sick And fuck nine thousand my power levels over a million bitch R: Yo what is it? It’s a blizzard, mid-December anthems We throwing temper tantrums over instrumentals and some C: Plus we handsome, probably stealing ya lady Hold her for ransom, extorting Samsung executives And vandalizing their Phantoms R: DAMN SON! You really spit bars Fat man with a big cigar saying “This kid's a star!” C: Toss a bag on her head and throw ya bitch in the car Kidnapping women to fund my addiction to liquor and caviar. R: One time for the verbal raw It’s Rapswell the kid you never heard before, the herbivore Serve em all, lunch lady cafeteria  We smack inferior rappers with the bacteria bruh C: Now ya hearing two of the sickest with the pens kid Pass airport security with vials of epidemics R: It’s contagion, I’m amazing with the pen simply Me and the Cynic be like Ren and Stimpy C: Sixteen bar verses, leave ya head in the dirt and R: You fuck around when we on the stage and it’s curtains C: Snatching jewels outta turbans, R: Yo you heard what he fuckin said? C: One hand on the Mic the other one clutching shrunken heads R: You punks are dead! C: Under ya bed with meat cleavers R: Stuff ya body parts in little boxes like Pete Seeger,  C: Spit venom R: Speak ether C: Defeat creatures R: With heat seekers C: Beat preachers  R: Drastic C: Deplete beakers R: With acid C and R: You bastards! R: You try to fuck with us and it’s a wrap kid C: Forget about international, we finna go intergalactic  R and C: And that’s it!

about

From the Chopped Herring Records description:

"Hailing from Brooklyn, Squires [Beat maker], The Cynic [MC] & Rapswell [MC] are...Pen Pals. Dudes hit us up to check their music and honestly yo, we were COMPLETELY blown away. Was this a classic super group using a pseudonym? Q-Tip, Ad-Rock, Edan, Slick Rick, Doppelgangaz with Prince Paul and [lost] Paul C production? It made no sense - how could a first release be SO well put together? There was/is something suspicious about it!! They hit us up with 2 tracks [of the 10 here] and we cut a deal there and then - didn't need to hear any more.

The second project is already recorded and will be droppin ASAP. PURE HERRING YO.......PLEASE ENJOY, RAP FANS..."

Cop the EXCLUSIVE vinyl at Chopped Herring: www.choppedherringrecords.com/catalogue/category/item/index.cfm?asset_id=2432

There will be 350 copies pressed ONLY
Full colour jacket with spine
The first 75 are on Clear, Red & Blue mixed coloured vinyl.
The next 75 copies are on Solid Blue & White coloured vinyl.
And the remaining 200 are on traditional black vinyl

credits

released July 10, 2015

Mixed by Gian Stone at Stone Recording
Mastered by Kia Shavon at The Mix Artist
Cover design by Desmond Tetrault

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PENPALS New York, New York

Rapswell, Bobby Noble, & SQ

Filthy Animals Music

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