Hunting Bald Eagles and Other Ghetto Tales


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    Black vinyl release of Hunting Bald Eagles..and Other Ghetto Tales LP. Free CD, download link, poster available (while supplies last).

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    Debut album from Tableek from Maspyke. Features BurntBerry label mates Blaknerd, Stan Illa, and Whosane. With special guests Sadat X and Roosta. Production by Roddy Rod, Chil Rock, Kid Sublime, and Tableek.

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released December 23, 2013


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Verse I
put your fire out
BLEEK on that high route, general
back out the kitchen with that knew subliminals
the criminally clever, all in together
yeast in the dough, make it blow how its supposed to be
whether you feed or get fed upon
your set either got setted or your set got set upon
in ya moms driveway, where ya 9-5 be
think i wont wyle out, and cancel your harambe
thats a stupid ass question,
you tryin to make me mad when them wolf tickets is cashed I fall back and laugh
relieved of your nonsense backyard fussin
im taking pain you can't cure wit no tussin
a strain that starts small but keeps on fussin
my louieville sluggin just keep y'all buntin
i remember a day though, stoned out blunted
a fly mona lisa was all a nigga wanted.
workable ambition,
I copped it locked it kept in the pocket, parallel parked it.
on and on hold that in a fistful
similar to water the result ain't blissful
niggaz hold to shells like carcinogens
an if you only lost one you can win again
im in the booth with no walls you mashed on tonic
that certified flow you know BLEEK stay on it

Verse II
Like a hornet or a coronet
louis armstrong out the gate spit froze unorthodox shape take flight in the lunar time arrival in the solar
hand all leaf to the designated roller
methodical encroachment, inch by inch
the seeds to your demise been laid in a pinch
my domination a cinch i dont piss babble
i pulled the string your uniform in shambles
stranded like a long lost mammal what a scandal
props to the gamble and the road you can't handle
I re-set in sight, in flight i might
resort to the usual fight with the machina
im all in between a
revolutionary act
return to the scene of the crime in BURNTBERRY looking fat and so fresh to death with every breath
I managed the damaged these niggas made then I left
Track Name: MONIE$
I want the dollar$ the pe$o the cedi$ the rubi$
funds so I can clone my nuts for all the groupies
cash i can burn on car lots of hoopties
rear view celly for geniuses who pursue me
i build wit em till they chatter boxxx
shadow boxin scared of they own shadow
I rock cheddar locked in
a free mind state, clock my weight
I come back weigh double no skills no debate
left and right from the center
since the placenta
pimped them presidents like i had a vendetta
they offered a weigh in but that didn't fit a (nigga)
they send in goons an little killers
no matter though
beatle bailey, beggin for a funeral
im buckin down with mad fists of fury yo!
wall street journal peep BLEEK in the centerfold
piff an a bird the boss man "Yo that nigga cold"
got mo, gidde gidde up gon get it
i'm puttin in work, that dough their we gon split it
i try to be non-stingy i dont rock fendi
back in the day wanted a box thats benzi
so i could rock that tape i made last wednesday
im thinkin at levels to keep the dough streak in me
peace to flip and all the flippers thats wit me
whether its guiness or a side show called ripley
run the shekel$, dinar$, yen, plus euro$
shilling$ i can slide like a black superhero
coppin sky scrappers want the paper with zeros
getting to the mountain top on big pillows
pressed in, north of what trump would make
in his lifetime my potential so great
got a rusty mcnugget, flip turn to gold
sothebys auction in 5 mintues that's sold
whiteys be shocked they like that man so bold
you keep the checks i want the money that fold
dead the credit, your train of thought getting old
get off the sedatives got your brain on hold
cough up the dough, ruble$, pound$ for my troubles
keep it on the low don't put sam in bubble
or irs to put stress on my bundles
im tryin to pc in triples, not doubles
the monie$
sippin lemonade i was livin in the shade
selling tinted goggles at the pr parade
i had a cascade
a thought so sublime
a future like picasso my canvas was written rhymes
i was hanging wit gorillas thats the sign of the times
until i understood we was designed by divineness
thats the kinda thinkin make u wanna kill wit kindness
opposite of you seein the world through blinders
so what you sayin, so what you playin wit
you snort a little power now you power and legit, shit
sour skits hit the nail on the head
they cut it with some coolant now you end up fukin dead
such a shame is shaitans plan my jinns is deenin
why cant you make up your mind, and dead the in between a
rock and a hard place hummin that rob base you basic
seein scarface dreams man you need that lasik face it
we in a million dollar studio with beats from the basements, nig-ga!

VERSE II Blak Nerd (aka Daktur Banff)
this is original ban-tissue
stance of a top official
got the signals
and sound waves to stop a missel
plus a green lou ferrigno
vibrate crystals with the intent to hit you
where its meant to
the weight of the pencil times the mental
equals pressure points getting pushed into
and make mince meat out of mices
take cover intense heat out of mic devices
breaks over, heathens
wack rappers only hearing they dope from other wack niggaz breddin
now thats biting made easy
so exciting and appeasing
barely breathing, rock hard from all the cock teasing
execs call it pocket breazing
for the well oiled machining
one body blow
leave you floor wobbled, stoned and cobbled
clone in the bottle get smashed at full throttle

VERSE III Stan Illa (theEarDrugz)
my neutrons circle around my atoms in high velocity
robin hood of the game attack the opposite of passively
ST spit aggressively like the government been testing me
intensity like when the french carried they kings head thru the streets
emcees nowadays be faker than diglycorides
so high, i can teleport to the deck of the enterprise
they just rhymin words
figure out what you tryin to do
we bond jewels to melodies, iconic individuals
exploitation of art i can never respect
a nigga said my flow old skool i wave em off like a fair catch
they need to exit stage left
they front an emulate death
ready to hop off the ledge
the noose tight around they neck
the system with the music for my somalian cousins
and bars blarin hiphop on the narrow streets of dublin
and my aight lookin chick, from the south side of london
she said she diggin BURNTBERRY and our style she lovin
i got my passport up, from the hood to the pub stage
then i might copulate with a cousin
just another bar in the new ass ripper
16 bar serial killer STAN ILLA
Track Name: COCO WINS
never would i call u bitch
i got no time for politricks
yo- can a brother be a little late?
no slow mo but i'm worth that wait don't
fix your face come outside
make up time might kill that vibe
the suns shinning theres a breeze
my number hit i just cop some trees
dont take this as simple dating
acting like your two months late an
look my love no hesitatin'
why wait, so frustratin
burn that bacon make this move
my rhapsody got a soulful groove
mysteries fu man chu
of course i'm deenin how about you?
much too busy like forty deuce,
war or truce, shake that loose
peep my elbows nice an smooth
best believe i rock coco coco

spent years invested in
studyin the estrogen
refined is what im lookin for
yall can keep them porn stars
instead my inspiration zooms
watchin through the different rooms
realer than reality the whole galaxy hears the boom
boom what im sendings true
kalidescope got different view different hues like your shoes
hard to find a woman with a fukin clue
my stash is blue, pastures greener
make all the noise that you want, in the arena
i flip fast on the vocal
my face is shinned rocking that coco

while yall choakin on them other vocals
humpin on the local yokels
strokin every out of towner
getting the number counter don't add up
what the fuk
p is free go earn a buck
winning off beginners luck extra innings and now your stuck
now all you can do is wait
checking times, checking dates
inne minne yeah he's safe
find someone gotta take his place
like a tool used to measure
broken promises for pleasure
you deserved a treasure, now your loco
missin that coco, coco, coco...
Track Name: GAME OVER
don't go steppin to me jack like you wont get none
TABLEEK's the name man you know the outcome
mush, mash you like a rash on a nasty ass a figment of the future
lost your past i got point for narrowly breakin ya ass
(yo let it slide make the music that the streets ride)
i rock pants with the pocket on the outside
inseam let it breathe long on the sleeve will i still bring the rukus (indeed)
im more than the man of the hour
deeper than your respect money and power
devour, your ideals and false images
beastin cause you scored ten points at the scrimmages
i'm sicker, i get twisted like i'm bombed on liqour but don't touch it my fetish to react quicker

Chorus I
hold up freeze
you never raps like these
spendin all your money on trees
pillsbury dough boy
go run and get dough boy

hold up freeze
you never raps like these
spendin all your money on trees
pillsbury dough boy
go run and get dough boy
damn right i get dough boy

see i really will hit you with whatever you want
i got a chair, a left hook a right thats text book
i write with my right hand how can you have quick sand
elusive like peace in afganistan
my team is man and woman
sharp and on point like razors for conan
but you im no cave dwellin raw meat ingestin
psycho syllabator paid for my protestin
or back bittin, snitchin, lyin
im smelling more than grease in the pan thats fryin (hey)
smitin that neck to show your people
my sights advanced not no coleco-vision
you won't hear the ringing if you don't listen
atomic rhyme theory, bust the fission

Chorus II
hold up freeze
you thinking that this is so easy,
but you don't make joints that please me
pillsbury dough boy
go run and get dough boy

hold up freeze
you thinking that this is so easy,
but you don't make joints that please me
pillsbury dough boy
damn right I get dough boy

well it was seven of your niggaz and they got gashed
im more severe than just a can of the whip ass
i slash where you look at, bash where you cook at
crash never settlin the beef cause your crook-ed
i last cause im looked as real so im booked
ask any fan always leave the stage unhooked
have you ever seen a pocket book?
elusive like red bones and clever crooks
im out now, save all the dirty looks and stay tuned
its high noon from play grounds to boardrooms

Chorus III
hold up freeze
you never get raps like these
spendin all your money on trees
pillsbury dough boy
go run and get dough boy

hold up freeze
you thinking that this is so easy,
but you don't make joints that please me
pillsbury dough boy
damn right I get dough boy
Track Name: TIME
my time is limited
all press, frantic
a losing game and stakes is gigantic
make men panic
take toast, slam it in the front of they skull
too close it got jammed why so dull
you waste time on the porno tapes, shootin blanks
talley ho'd some rank stank ho's eatin franks
(my time, your time, hard time, any time)
how can we serve this time better
determined to line chedder
pop champagne yeah we see them
but usually they scared to death man they so weak
sellin dreams till the time when sleep or death meet
man the time the time im at a lost
marriage with no purpose get divorced
single woman no prospects niggas is soft so she, fills her time fills her mind and takes off
only time will ever tell if she succeeds, niggas get stabbed by time and just bleed
never make the corner, never make the turn
circular mistakes i pray in time they learn
look, i'm running out of paper, im running out lines
looks like im running out of (time)
culture crazy
writtens lazy
sideline hazy
tricks dont amaze me
war refinement
peaceful tyrant
modern day pirate
far from the movie
handheld grenade launched right at your boobies
spilled half the trees out the doobie
mixed up h rap from huey jig
i guess one has to die so the other get big
born in the borough but what makes me thorough
the p-y-k-e the deen in the bone marrow
i could be your brother but not everybodys nigga
sometimes close my eyes bring the daylight in quicker
i'm wavin at madness to introduce sicker
lost in the sauce gingerale no fizza
paper rock scissor
fu*k fed ex we the ones that deliver
you little toy figure
this a mans hustle
move heavy use your brain muscle
toss up to tussle
rock rings like bill russel
too many rings to rock you stay muzzled
i need a runner, a gunner with back bone
thick thighs at home bout to set into a zone, i'm on
watch me work break that corporate sh*t
you ain't slick little bit*ch do what you got

a small temper with big hands
dont never get to talk up the road i'm listenin
salt and pepper shake you out your shoes
I hit fans
thats small talk nigga come back big plans
structure document opulence you little bitch scram
whip me up a three egg omelet no yoke
get a nigga fresh squeeze orange you slow poke
i'm just beginning like i'm eating my breakfast
straight path like your reading my necklace
pray to the east me and my brother BLEEK
both see the direction of the
suratul musta real rude boy a roosta
put it down cape town to worcesta
turn it up loud hear the sound of the music
and when it hit the ground thats the sound of the movement
Track Name: RULEZ
check the resume
we the next skool pedigre
fu*k who's ahead of me
we call em out
future bout
rumble in the jungle
tableekin and they laid out you cookies all crumble
you niggaz not esco
you peddlers i crush competitors
your teams no brolic
stuck from the chronic if you rockin that wack sh*t I'm not on it
i'm buildin in damsco
my food got cilantro and other greeneries is you seein me?
im on a scout for empty bellies, bangin on spinnin perellis
you callin this one winning but not on the telly yet
a place on the border
thats an order or a threat
i been with the kinda woman that are hard to forget i salute ya
end to end bends if its my karma that suits ya

Look alive, lets get active, what rulez are stopping you from proving they backwards
Look alive, lets get active what rulez are stopping you from proving they backwards

Remember the times when the rhyme was more critical
individuals were more critical
more critics were casually critical in ways that were critical for growth
now niggaz make a beat with one note
everybody rap so rap is just a joke
you wantin a punch line here
you thinking this the lunchline here
im servin up this life food here
take your rabbit ass clean your underwear
don't stare, the hallpass years have been over
I roam the earth general to soldier
so, run with your left overs left over
from a recycled style
of bullshit prose meant to seem wild,
but if you bust guns I bust planets real foul

Chorus (repeat)

The jinns couldn't stop the truth through the monitors,
probably have to wait till my time is up
to get the proper props for all the gift with the rhymes and stuff
but fu-fu*k being the help
i'm swinging like django only not going for delph,
in the league with the vets
we movin week to week check to check
bundle to bundle
king kong so guerilla less less a man be humble
i didnt stumble on to paragraphs they stumble onto me
traced it city to city its just an actuality
facts and the p is free exclusivity make you shiver to your spine
we gonna shine whether you press rewind
co-sign or not
you rappers need to dig a grave and just rot
Neighborhood Drug Dealer
now skool rule
already i claim to build mental
troubl was my right hand man
and what I went through
cause the PYL on the tip like a felt pen said I could trace the curves and munch on herbs
machos on the set perturb how i did it
99 ways and everthing was permitted
mentenally scarred
we move on they irrate
smackin my trey trying to knock food off the plate
and although i aint the biggest, the ruffest, the tuffest
i'll catch em with a quick left hook they're like "smuckers"
its after hours, no more yellow buses
no iron horse so in Nikes I trustes
im on a mission in a foreign land- Black Sudan?
No not near home get the point- alone
the hatred of these island niggas all on me
the hood-lemic epedemic of society
and im fixin' to be the headline on the morning paper
nigga not strapped shot to death on a elevator
i'm prayin' to ALLAH to save me
talking loud moving quick people on the street think I'm sick but I'm not
its just I don't want to get shot, it wasn't in my plans this morning
i woke up scratched my nuts made wudu, always true
best words from Uncle Sekou, let's move on
best words from Uncle Sekou, let's move on
I'm back on the scene mint green overalls
in the phone booth nervous with the frantic call
stayed busy, and that meant nobody can get me and scoop me up from this per-dicatmente
a store, maybe Coke can boost my adrenaline
waiting cross the street I peep yo its them again
and yo they see me, this ain't I dream of genie
I don't blink bitch I'm no pre-mie
i cross the street, pearl vision 180
a store with the afternoon rush that seem lazy
its crazy, i say fatiha then I press
forward my heart beatin' like thunder in my chest
im reachin' for the door either pull or push more
sweat covered my face a few paces for war
then i braced, my body tight for concussion
as soon as they set it, got the bic to stick something in the neck
I'm waiting for the vic to check, when the door swing open crept up my step
only seeing that this man here play along
so my umi won't be singing the sad sad song
its like what
Neighborhood drug dealer, my man
what up black?
The Loop (f. Sadat X+Stan Illa)
Sadat X
Thug out
Fuck around pull the rug out
drink nigga pull the jugg out, handle the liqour though
the end will come quicker yo
the muzzle guzzles and drinks blood
the east est character whole
side of head was swool from the impact
i heard the crack the calico was heavy
fired out the chevy as it screeched off
dude reached off into the heavens
seen the bottom, of his 11's
man down can't stand down the steel
ain't no appeal when that box get closed
no money or hoes is comin with you
when that thing come and get you
yeah that shoe fit you thats the catch
throwin dirt down the hatch
soon forgotten, bone turned rotten
gots man is plottin you an after thought- caught
blood sport what the fuck you thought
real niggaz can't be store bought

Born alone die alone, no matter where you roam
born alone die alone, no matter where you roam
born alone die alone no matter where you roam, I need a new nigga

Stan Illa
To be conscious is the last real trial of the new age
wolves baboons lions roam around the concrete stages
he ain't look up the car muffled his shotgun
babies outside no coats wind blows and they snots run
esoteric knowledge that contained in these jeans
no true religion was presented ever be what it seems
TV lyin to your face how you believe the screen
it be that mirror on the water that reflectin the beam inside
close friends died from pressure on the gas peddle
and pack hit me like the shrapnel from the blast metal
4th down safety scrammblin' for some more chips
players might see the more tish if they hold slip
the game salty and sweet like the corn in the kettle
niggas that know the time but ain't concerned with the bezzle
it be the pressure of poverty put the heat on the kettle
type pressure create a diamond on a whole other level

Chorus (Repeat)

They having a hard time
to hear the heart beat
cries through the street
you layin on the concrete
thoughts of being unbeatable
never ending was your story seem agreeable
but that ain't the truth biz,
the truth is
your physical be gone like the space in my tooth is
you want a long life
maybe a kid and wife maybe a dog with fence named picket
instead you cricket with the crabs
sick with the scabs
those be the breaks on the ave
and now here you
where's the cape, the man just missed me
glad I penned my escape
i guess its not your plan that the world evolve with
lifes for the living and we all are forfeit
you get it, if so you live better
its not a fly style
bullet holes in your sweater

Chorus (Repeat)