Rip Eat Prescription

by Razorrawks

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1.
02:06
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02:47
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02:38
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credits

released January 8, 2016

All tracks written by M. Rawcliffe

Additional performances by Bianca Kinane.

All tracks produced by M. Rawcliffe except Bang Your Head, Snakes On Ladders, Dirtbox & Molly's Song; produced by M. Rawcliffe & A. Smith

All tracks mixed and mastered by A. Smith & M. Rawcliffe.

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about

Razorrawks Preston, UK

Northwest rapper, truth sayer and believer in all things lyrical. The new album 'Rip Eat Prescription' is out on 08/01/16

For contact - info@razorrawks.co.uk

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Track Name: Bang Your Head
I'm attack with that skull shattering rap, the kind that loosens tooths and turns the faithiest to atheists you're brave enough to flap your gums behind my back you beat your drums but when faced for the truth you took the liars route.
I'm indescribable out in the fields planting charges making terra firma crack just like I shoulder barged it, and by that I mean I supercharged a bodyguard I'm avantgarde and dressed in scars while throwing bass at Scotland Yard,
take the music intravenously inject it in an embryo then hit play and watch the fucker go,
contorting till aborting all signs of normal hormones just an over grown prawn with huge muscle tone,
and ability to stage dive while only being half alive he'll survive if in his minds eye he thinks I wanna make the tracks you get wrecked to I wanna make the kind of beats you bang your head and snap your neck to!

Bang whip crack snap your neck back till there's a dorsal fin where your spines been
Lets all believe em that's how I treat em alarming I'm harming underarimg
Bang whip crack snap your neck back till your lymph nodes grow and they explode
You've not forgotten I bring the rancid antics and semantics offhanded

I'm the witchfinder kinda guy creating spells with synthsizers crystal balls and spectrum analysers,
not obliged to take the bull by the horns but what the fuck you in it for if you don't wanna throw stones,
I've soaked this track in venom but don't care for fashion like a biting cobra striking out with viking fighting passion,
this is a lesson for legions of rappers out there who sit and stare I'll snatch your chair right of thin air like a solar flare bursts and brings a flame to your game your DNA will get melted with desire for fame,
and get pelted with bricks and thick hockey sticks quick bollock kicks hits till scrote polyps split,
I've got tunnel vision eyes and thats reinforced I'm on a Trojan horse
riding a collision course,
you want a track you get wrecked to? I'll make the kind of beats you bang your fucking head and snap your neck to!

There's an affidavit Sellotaped to a plate somewhere that still shakes repercussions of an 808,
what a state never seen a finer china party liner hold a crowd in the palm of her hand a pride rewinder,
a slight reminder as the beat kicks the floor splits a double hit of this shit will crack your fucking hips,
I wanna make a track you get wrecked to I wanna make the kind of beats you bang your head and snap your neck to!
Track Name: Snakes On Ladders
I've been seen hit and pick pocketed like a fully clothed fucking strip search,
Tories out for glory what's the story cunts troll me,
lonely islands are getting filled out with the corpses of relatives and sedatives umbilical cords get killed and more,
gravestones'll fall and eventually mark the call to arms the dole'll harm the fallen farm will sow the seeds and line the trenches,
and burn the benches raise wigs from severed heads MP's and constituents dead pave the streets with free bread and cash,
which won't last cos the guy with his hand out'll shout and ask the bastard faster than the crashed bank disaster blasted past ya,
are lower class doomed to be under a thunderclap'll crash and blow your arctic shark pit through a tundra!
A hundred mile an hour winds scorch and scream for gallows your in a ship at sea in life as we drown in the shallows,
you're in a Martian marsh your mellow turn your cheek to hello,
like Marti Pellow went from clean to washed up preen to feral...

Time for class a social divide,
I spied there's no where to hide I tried I've pride that's mine,
I don't suit suits and boots I'm skint too true but ostracised, why?
Give me the means and interest to start a party, Marty's little army, I won't I can't be arsed hardly,
there's a sound of cages, a boiling point around town there has been for ages.

We clean your life and calmly drain your toilet it's a joke when the shit that has blocked it is worth a lot more than my fucking time to stop it,
man blow the ram explode all the dams and explore all monocled snake eyes with a jolly "Ho Ho" Wurthers shook hand,
gold teeth chime on gold spoons so lads in 9 x 6 rooms take time in exchange for the chance to relieve you of satin pants,
like lizards fry for energy better be medically chemically on sync synergy is poverty conspiracy? Gotta be!
What a life when a spy from the MI5 flies by and high fives a guy defined on thy big pie of lies and tries to buy the head of the BCCI,
fuck no fingers no pies, described minds intertwined tied and don't care if you die,
don't like what I say fine blind eyes won't decipher lies between the lines a needle eye survives without a glass to magnify,
like parliament like Guy Fawkes in an argument a legacy heresy wrapped in dirty parchment and a filthy sergeant.

There's jack 84 in his flat he's suffered 2 heart attacks in 1 year just now bouncing back,
now it dawns he won't survive on his own when there's a choice between eating or heating or making a phone call,
he's shot the devils on shore's and sold the medals he wore to peddle his self that little bit more to go,
careful conundrums live's weaved through numbers,
that separates the doldrums which encumber the wonder and sunder,
you're under when you are banned brand the floor with thunder,
it's understandable man expanding the plans of dead hands,
it's unmanned and fucking unplanned a flame to the land,
a kiss to the whip hand that's taking a piss on a witness stand,
and making their business taking a risk on waking a sleeping grit looking to move when liberty hits, so move with trickery and aquit,
kick the legs of this rickety shit so pick a team rocketing to a green seen in a dream with a sheen got a means to an end I believe that I'd bleed for a friend but that's what I mean...
Track Name: Catalogue Of Errors
Like a square peg in a round hole, takes guts to undercut the crowd though,
flip the mattress on a cool cat actress just to practice the art of saying "NO!"
You can complicate it all, or know the aim's to fucking push it on,
or looking like at least you wanna fucking flip a song,
instead of nicking from the biggest ripping off the fittest,
but always slipping on whatever next you're sticking on...

I see you sonny - so to win it I'm in it I'll run a ring around your fucking track and bring it back under the tongue,
packing lyrics - talking shit in hysterics you're dead un-necessary and worth like 2% of the buried,
the ferryman got the coin for your eyes lie as you might wanna die,
rhyming you might wanna try, even if simplified!
Suppose that makes me a cynic? Just know, to snatch away your bollocks'll take me less than a minute...

I don't get it? I support many!
And many men have said they're "born ready!" x2

It's production by numbers - full of numb-skulls in abundance
then you wonder why we passed it and undermine the bastards?
It's dog shit - the cost of which delivers terror
it's all that bleeding ears hear - a catalogue of errors

In times of war when the old closing door's open only for the poor
looking to know how much they've never had before -
we need something to unite us! Ignite the fighters!
And fuck off all these rappers repping dickhead-itis
so it's up on my damn feet - where there's always a plan b
walking calm in a storm that I've been warned I can't beat
and alone I can't sleep when there's only my seat at sea
shrinking like a sailors fate - sinking to a symphony

Like a square peg in a round hole, takes guts to undercut the crowd though,
flip the mattress on a cool cat actress just to practice the art of saying "NO!"
You can complicate it all, or know the aim's to fucking push it on,
or looking like at least you wanna fucking flip a song,
instead of nicking from the biggest ripping off the fittest,
but always slipping on whatever next you're sticking on...

It's like a ceremony of "fame and money" hungry men
marching to a rhythm they've diluted through a Parker pen
again, it's getting darker, then the argy-bargy started
and if a target's on my head, then you need to know exactly what I said - "I don't freestyle or battle rhyme" - no punchlines either
and this ain't for dick size or the tricks I can use to hide the fact of interaction, I don't do it for glory - I do it for the peace of mind I get from burning stories that would always haunt me,
in a flat in Preston, some fucking mad depression pressing buttons when I'd nothing - started asking questions like 'what the fuck?' and 'why'm I here?' Toasting ghosts that would appear - I kinda feel I overdosed on fear, hence some common sense in my defence I need summat for stomach cramping, await the rapture - so I'd capture it - and started stamping, to clear brainwaves with an Atom bomb
is better than the staircase and the rope I won't be hanging from...
Track Name: Discontinuation Syndrome
I've been sedated almost a third of my life and that's a long time to be spoon fed your feelings at night
a chemical castrated mind where a compound decides what your brave enough to listen to "I've been christened a fool!"
nobody listens to the ramblings of a fallen soul so crawl on home and pick up all these fucking meds and go it alone,
straight to bed and hell let the tablets go to work in repelling your person which results in a diluted self, in exchange for my insanity the weight of gravity and wait in humanity tortured and saddened me,
it had me locking arms wanting to self harm but no conviction in existence led to paths of least resistance

You make me feel cold, so now ill appeal to my mind,
I want to feel like I'm unreal, taboo,
never have I never seen the sky so blue, for you...

Nature or nurture means nothing when you can't escape the cycle but I need the exodus of this disciple,
been wandering round modified for long enough now I'm really trying to smile admittedly it takes a while...
But I need this - I can't live life sheathed up a doctors sleeve
where I can't breath and keep pushing down what's underneath,
I'm either overlooked or overseen but I'm getting weaker week by week and each day it's getting harder to speak,
I feel like I'm inhaling encrypted blocks of oxygen taken hostage fight or flight state adopted on the myriad of life or suicide
I need a choice of the two but that's because I don't love me, not you
Track Name: (Sinister) Mr Minister
I'm ready to roll up my sleeves deep breath and smash my teeth on the centrepiece,
pretend to be the beast just for the press release,
so grab your shoes cos we're collectively the centipede that's marching on the marble arch facade - present the entity!
The Fleet Street elite whom each received a cheat receipt accosted via deficits of those who could not beat retreats,
so why you bleat under assumed belief we can't perceive?
That only means we can't achieve in what we don't believe.
We'll take it to the streets where revolutions need to be
and when you call for peace with riot police and calls to cease,
you'll want to shoot the breeze promoting dreams freedom of speech to those alone born breach with nothing left but six degrees,
of separation in terms of education, lifestyle and patience
placate the rage with longer names and calls to polling stations
occasions call for sugared spoons to stave the confrontation our agitation only grows to point of amputation,
the end is now the corporation's coming down its set for detonation town - evacuations academic out the epidemic comings bringing desolation drough - you needing liberation? Shout!

It looks like Eton's best have made a fucking Eton mess...

You think your family crest makes us fucking second best...

Too long we've been oppressed now uncivilised unrest...

Yeah we're the underclass fact we're not denying that but we're underpaid undermined and under asked over worked and under threat of debt from rising taxman's axes crashing down around for pounds we haven't got the point of access,
It's a class attack with glass to cut supporting tendons like cutting puppet strings askew to pruning rhododendrons en mass they fractured lonely sections of more co dependents maximum control of all the urban sprawl remembrance,
we're socially defunct but blamed for economic ills chime atomic drills, monophonic trills a sonic calling brings the fallen to the polyphonic hills,
foretell the omen through a crowds supersonic will,
fate will kill the legislation now dead in its tracks I'm sick of picking through morsels and pilfering scraps,
we're gonna adapt, we're gonna attack - wrap you up and burn you up inside your Union JackQ
It's abhorrent we solemnly swear to follow the torrent and shatter columns that's hallowed and bore us hollow we've swallowed enough and wallowed stolen from beggars and borrowed,
we cannot live today yeah so bollocks to-fuckin-morrow
-- you pick apart the heart like Liberace and Boneapart half and half a breed apart a cross between decrees,
narcissistic bitches with little mans disease!
Track Name: Dirtbox
Permission to die lie rigomort and fade out I spy lots with the eyesight of a two eyed cyclops
Man I'm crawling on all floors man I'm banging into doors King Kong hang head in shame
A broke throat spitting slitted vein sick there's my crown I'm down you want it now
I admit you got the gaul and balls to face your foes alone told denied breaking a home a broken token bone
A flipper a dipper a trippy Jack the Ripper a nippy nipper a slippery kipper a cunt a grass
I've been force fed vowels which I'm only now spitting out all over your walls halls and mole dug holes put holes in your lawn - bones alone - phones full of friends no more man you got fuck all

Like a prima donna I wanna see Madonna gone, I'll sneak up on her in the street and set my beat upon her
All the horror your honour comes from the belladonna what a lie to nip tuck and borrow to look younger tomorrow
It must be hell when your two thirds stem cell rest post menstrual breasts augmental dental work like a mental gentle fetal creepy people fragmental
Coughing in skin coffins the boffins on limbs got in no stopping on tip topping your rotting and never stopping on
You wanna live in the light excite a parasite
You might be better at night you melt in Fahrenheit
Excite the fright on to sprites a little oversight
Haemaphroditey in a nighty got it all in sight

Don't look back for me now, now that I'm back around, all them words you don't say prepared me fairly and squarely kicking you away

Like a genie in a hand lamp working in the damp with cramp
An armless cripple in a chair at the foot of the ramp
I wanna stamp up the street cracking flags with my feet off beat demolishing concrete
I've got my reasons to fall I've got my reasons to crawl but there's fuck all to let you trawl my abdominal wall
Your in the bit of the pit between the fibre and shit evacuate, you take the bait cos I lose weight when I spit
I got pockets of rockets I lock my lyrics in lockets you stop me rocking? I'm dropping rock in to clock in
Shit, fuck this bucket list I'm mr missed this pissed twisted sisters wrist with a blistered hiss
Track Name: We Lack Shellac
We lack shellac so come on bring that beat back,
drop the needle on the spiral of the vinyl track,
slip that mat and bring that cross fade back and when the beats match set for relapse,
catch the moment hold it it won't be long before the stories told and gone and reminisce until your teeth are long,
grin and say that old cliche mate that back in the day I was a rave dj

Back before I fried my mind and worked it overtime it was great to dig in crates wasting time and be the next in line for buried finds,
labels whiter than any face paint on any mimes so when you struck gold knew this time you'd tingle many spines,
this whole rigmarole could crush your soul thirty thirsty Dj's round a water hole waiting for a water bowl,
like the Masons once they knew your face you'd get a wink a nod a "mate I saved you this there's only twenty two exist"
days and wages used - just one more recluse vinyl more addictive than any known form of drug abuse,
my walls adorned in flyers Technic's the pyre Dj messiah with hymns preaching sermons get us higher,
it's all about the sound you found the decks the blood and the sweat on the set to perfect before you recorded to cassette,
it was more than just a lad alone at home with two gramophones
and if that's what you thought you've clearly never party thrown!

This was a movement no one said it but we fucking knew it,
that kind of culture that crept up through the street and grabbed your feet picked you up and grew it through it changed your frame of mind this feeling lasts forever but over in the shortest time,
I wish these kids'd get to see the industry before an mp3 and hold a song long before they put it on
Long before they digitally time stretched the hits and changed the whole concept of the mix and swapped the skill for fix
This was underground we found a part of the wonder sound
The loudest calls of tribal roars in dancing halls they'd seen before
Dance floors were crowded got pounded down below foundations to sounds of youth frustrations bass and pirate stations
The infrastructure got in ya hooked ya culture ruptured
Your blood were flooded till your minds instructed limbs erupted
And then the soul ignited no point to try to fight it
Parents said the sixties but man I had the early nineties
Track Name: Molly's Song
He was found broken on a bed, dead twisted veins exposed
neighbours caught the smell, his shell began to decompose,
alarm bells never rang with absence of his features,
a solitary essence like a dissipated creature,
his belongings neatly stacked in the corner of that derelict non-action packed part of town where this went down,
children played outside, never spied inside
interest cast aside - been vacant back since '95
there was a broken gate rusted from all the rainy days,
that opened on the stairs that led the way to judgement day,
the policeman cursed as he traversed the landing,
in ten minutes his shift finished but there's no-one left to change the hand in,
he opened up the door to a sight he'd seen before
so compassion's all but vanished, he can't be shocked no more,
deceased was fully dressed in all the clothes that he possessed -
a pair of socks, shorts, a vest, a blazer with a double breast,
jeans, a T-shirt that he'd found, a short sleeved shirt shirt in brown,
a beanie with a rounded crown enclosed inside a dressing gown,
boots with soles ground down exposing all the flesh,
and what's left of laces bound them to his legs since they'd been found,
he had no ID - Caucasian male aged 25 - 33, blue eyes, brown hair and blood type B
a tattoo on his wrist which spelled Marie
and upon that name he hacked a cutthroat razor blade
until his life force drained away
Track Name: The Bitter End
Since the summer of 07 someones been severed,
whatever, forever we're all divided,
S'all better,
the rhetoric, spoken out open and choked on it,
I hung a coat on it, turned my back to the folklore, fuck you all with it...
This tradition of sticking thick and thin in committed-ness is ridiculous it's prisoning,
just sentencing the sentences helps to make sense of it,
and pretending to be anything else would be insensitive...

- Give it em all and I'm over the wall now I'm down and I'm out in the open, look back and I'm broken from the fact I got trapped in a packet of jokers and after the smoke and all these jokes have faded all the walls been talking ages they've told me things that I ain't thought of lately,
in hindsight I think a hand or a shoulder is all I needed,
blind guy with a right to a friend or a break a pre emptive strike right to the skull of a cunt right to a frightened full of himself gullible fucking bell pointing fingers and laughing like everyone else

I Simmered down and out and thats how I found out I that I could see the lies
I simmered down and out and that's how I found out that I could see the lies
I simmered down and out to find out that I could see and hear lies fly by between mine and this guys eyes the sheer size and how hard he's tried to imply to me he's an ally right?

Breaking the sockets of knuckles on rock walls, been dropped whole in a hell hole,
So fuck it I've lost hope and mangled the handles on locked doors
its important to rest though
know before each and all tests hope I make it a mission decision to listen to risen divisions and those who all say so - my head's in a halo thats been painted on hoods so I stay low d'ya know I prefer to live in the floods to put out the fires and payloads?
It seems like swords are broadest called to carve the way forward at least one swipe of mine is primed to turn the fucking place over

I had to hold a phone full of fake phony crones
didn't wanna fall so I took it to this stony horde of grown only in form so with thoughts alone I drawn rings round these brain dead and homely clones
- You'll not ever hold me close to the fire and toast my entire attire to boast how you exposed my wires,
they remain the same; close to the chest I'm suggesting keeping what's left'll be the real Intelligence test

- they'd pick at the carcass like they're sharks in the darkest parts of starkness, the question mark comes not from the arc of the bite but why are they are barkers?
Untether a proud touty pound for pound loud mouth shouty now and see the clown out of town unbound by the things you found out now!
The law of all averages demands we see all the savages lined up and all chained like traitors on the road behind the carriages...
Damaging everything ever seen never clean never been
nothing but enemies and once again jealousy's descending on me...
Track Name: House Of Frauds
I'll snatch rap snap it and give it back

Watch the clock as it ticks and tocks from the stocks as I pick the locks to hip hop I lose plots as the hearing shocks now I can see the fright on fuckin faces drop

My cage door is broke I gotta go cos I've no time for spoken wars to stroke egos
I'm pouring fuel on the floors and fuckin walls and more to go
So the crows will even choke on the smoke when I blow
I'll never show you all my soul set in stone I'm unknown
And I'm the bastards own bastion master dethroned
An I'm a lone cyclone I'm throwing homes like a wrecking ball deformed I'm snapping bones taking falls
I'm a see em off like a behemoth cut em off at source and of course with force fuckin tee em off
I compress the fresh mould to test the threshold and leave the rest cold your best hold to those who've foretold
It's only natural to reel in jealousy so when I'm in action man I can feel the heresy
Only stakes burning returning I insist on hurting the vermin that twisted me in the curtain

There's a clause
You sign at the close of the doors
No applause in the house of frauds
Razorrawks

Give me five minutes to look alive committed to fuckin die just look in my fuckin eyes
I kind of like this style of genocide I smile all while hostile I'm leaving no man alive with pride
I'm sick of sinking or swimming a hollow life you bring in a flicking wing and I'm thinking I'm gonna fly
I tried to open advice with pocket knives just think of the prize twice instead of the price
I'll scar the floor with metaphors in threes so freeze geez I'll bring you to your knees diseased I'm obese a piece I feast on chalk and cheese
With a yeast infection and a greased erection please
Bring a priest from a long line deceased the wrong time released a tongue tied decreed beast
Am I fake in being told I can't I can't talk "you wanna spit fire? No chance you've no hope!"
You're right cos I'm shit at what they call rap that's generic as Derek so I buried the epitaph
In response to nonsense correspondence entrepreneurings one like dropping atomic bombs its on
You get me going like leading a fucker on its wrong you crossed a line defining one of my songs
play along, sing along
But in a crowd your so loud like a mushroom cloud that pow wows
Track Name: The Faultlines
Give me cider, give me a lighter, give me a wider smile I'll try and invite the lost riders in the dark the freedom fighters who fell apart and suffer blindness through brightness, it's like this a smoke bellowing horizon stings the eyes like acts of mindless violence, but yet the world turns while mother stares at burns and paints concerned eyebrows above her eyes to prove to you she cares, I can see a liar who don't know she ain't smiled in a while but don't have the heart to tell her either, I could of rose like flyers once but no, I guess all a crow upon a spire really wants is a view to peruse that's been fashioned from truth outside the eyesight of the dark without a heart full of abuse, without scars a skylark won't be a recluse and it's a shame if you don't claim your spot on the roof.

I've been raised on the Faultlines

Go though, it's over, I don't know where they all go...

I closed one eye and then the other, I lost a father, sister, mother and then eventually a brother, so figured introvert-ism would be the theme on the walls of my prison, and I
was dizzy from the get go falling into walls I had to let go, took 4 steps all wrecked though; 1 forward 3 back I mean who'd of seen that? Unsteady legs can't drag a dream back and I mean that,
it's pointless scratching at the ground not gonna find my mind, ever since I'm down and out of bounds and out of time, and now fresh out of smiles looking down at feet in single file don't wanna meet another crisis eye to eye,
find a vortex and hide from life you'd find on a doorstep the hardest part of that's avoiding forceps, and it ain't the pain of being pulled forward toward the open arms of all who's next,
it's more or less chipping the coldest shell of my bones calling out for names in a hail of sticks and stones that really tears the soul
It's a pattern I ain't fathomed yet I feel tattered inside out from all I couldn't get inside a mould that wouldn't set.
Track Name: Feel Like I'm Well
This is the first time in many moons that I've seen the sunrise through bagged eyes and a typhoon mind harpooned in any room,
confined and defined by stigma horror thoughts an enigma
a lot of blows by a lot of blow, pill, powders and gigglers you start from the bottom no need to work up little wriggler,
I've survived blonde wigs mocking and sniggering shocking foundations I'm figuring to put her face first in the mirror and dip it in vinegar and ghost trains,
shallow cats full of effergin forever involved showing off and peckering
Mrs Belvedere your bin bags are here now get your shit and you fuck off!

I've found a way of living for today
But please could you stay
Cos I could never say...

No more blocks no more locks and dreams of going docs
No voice box possessed by hell's ox and my psyche locked up like Fort Knox,
No more suicide plots from a pill box, no more stuck in stocks no more socks in slippers on shined floors no more wards and nurses hordes and curses,
loads more small mercies and curtsies if need be to see in 3D
hell's teeth has just released me it's brief but such a relief believe me
Tell Rich that the drugs do work just well to spell like Brunel adjoined to a coin they'd all say evil aye! "It's just too cruel ooo well..."

I'm under no illusions - that when a fiend vacates the room you can't assume it's doomed I know one day soon I'll resume consumed entombed medication costumed,
but while the fractures hold I'm a savour the flavour and practice all untold normal re-mould of my psychological state a man and mic like a story retold,
I'm reconnecting affecting people reflecting the best that I wept on G's shoulder,
before I'm hectic again rejecting them who and then when again with the trouble it brings,
without a thing it berates me from the wings between now and then how many songs can I sing?
I admit lately I've been through hell but glad today to say that I feel like I'm well.