#mc devlin

[4lung]

GOT BLOOD 🩸 IN MY FECES 💩 BUT I FOUND JESUS ✝️TURNED OUT TO BE A FETUS 👶 THAT WAS RIFE WITH DISEASES 🦠BUT I DIDNT WANNA SEE IT GO TO WASTE ♻️ CUZ IT WAS ALL SMOTHERED IN BUTTER 🧈 AND I WANTED A TASTE 👅 WHEN LIFE THROWS EGGS 🥚 I LIKE TO MAKE AN EMBRYONIC OMELETTE 🍳 WITH EXTRA CHEESE🧀 I THINK I’M GONNA VOMIT 🤮

[drinkslurm72-blog]

the MAD CONDUCTOR --- mechanical claw righteous reggae, blues, punk, rap, gospeldubwhaaaat 1.Intro 00:39 2.Louisiana Truth Potion & The Human Thought Recorder 03:34 3.Tomb Diggin' Shovels 03:02 4.Troubles in the Sewer 03:45 5.Marifasa Lupina 04:16 6.Nairobi 04:52 credits released December 25, 2005

All songs written by MC Devlin & Dan McKinney Recorded and Produced by Dan McKinney at Dan's House Studio in Center Valley, PA, Spring/ Summer/ Fall 2005.

MC Devlin - Vocals, Guitar, Bass Dan McKinney - Keys, Production, Backing Vocals TJ Backwards - Vocals on Troubles in the Sewer Mary Hawkins - Vocals on Nairobi

Backing vocals on Tomb Diggin' Shovels by TJ Backwards, Greg Walls, Corey Tray, Brigid Tray, Maureen Tray and Emma Blair

[slimeystrings]

No-Cash, you don't wanna fuck with me, I burn churches like burzum in the 3rd degree, With the strike of a match hit the gasoline, Drop pills! Drugs kill, but it's worth the thrill, Started in the nazo pits "quick to draw", Sharp like a blade, we'll cut you like a chainsaw, Drink your blood by the pitcher until we feel drunk, Grind your fuckin' bones to lace my fuckin' blunt, punk! Snap back crackle, pop! Motherfuck the cops! Always staying on my toes when I walk the block, And when I go up in the store I bring my own discount, Cause I'm sick of paying money to suck corporate cock, Yeah I know my Spanish is rusty but my English is olde, 40 down grab yourself an ice cold colt 45, Feeling alive drunk as fuck in the daylight, I'm ready to die! Sometimes, sometimes I count the hours, When I'm all alone, all alone with a thousand downers, Like thread, it was just gonna stitch the seams, But now my body is soaked in gasoline! Nazo step to this won't slit your wrist, Cross you off the list unless you're gonna wanna, Throw a punch it'll break your fist, Man up duck down cause the caps wont miss, Bust six shots on an undercover cop, They're all crooked mother fuckers and it aint gonna stop, So hold your ground down, let the drums sound, I'll hit you hard with accurate precision, split decision, Yo, I'm sinning and I'm grinning, fuck religion, Fucked up got a vision so listen, Do what makes me happy not for money or attention, Flying on a forty that's how I get down! You say you're the king but I'm wearing the crown, High on my throne sniffin' lines making deals, Got a chef in the kitchen, cooking my last meal! Sometimes, sometimes I count the hours, When I'm all alone, all alone with a thousand downers, Like thread, it was just gonna stitch the seams, But now my body is soaked in gasoline!

[slimeystrings]

I'm getting better at describing how I feel Feeling less crushed beneath the wheel I'm affected by head wounds, and also concussions Inflicted by us and almost some Russians I am the rudest of all rude boys so keep quiet unless you want some noise No Katana, Sai, Nunchaku or Staff Five Finger Discount, robbers make me laugh They wanna hit us with the Haiku? I guess they could try to But I'd probably stomp them out like I'm stompin' through the bayou Gettin fly on the granite But now I'm diggin holes through the center of the planet what And I'll be hiding in the attic in silence with the power out Eatin hot dogs with mad amounts of sourkraut Me no loot, me no shoot, me no wail I blasted into orbit on a ship to sail Me no loot, me no shoot, me no wail I landed on your planet but the ground was frail Is it too hot to dance? Nah we rock steady And I'm light on my feet cuz I'm mad top heavy

[casualceramics]

Bridgetown DIY The Mad Conductor

[slimeystrings]

Few are iller than this koopa killa, fluid spilla, Manager frigid call me lou pinella supa chilla,  Never the luger filla, I am way too intelligent to mess around with stupid clowns and goofy dealers, I move a pillar, call me kelly leak, you're hella weak, My mellow beats will not be spoken over by a yellow beak, Bird brained pigeon in my kitchen, not even a smidgeon is against my religion son, I'm schooled and I'm proper, rude boy rocka, Kick a white collar emcee out his dockers, And I'm the freshest that they got so forget it, Before you catch a corn cob cleat to your lettuce, Cool em off with the brain freeze speeches,  I'll eat your features like peaches and plain cheese pizzas with the frostbite. Dislocate your planet from it's orbit and position, While I'll be getting funky on the mic while the universe expands, Sunburnt son, never none sun tanned, I got a hand full of wishes, I don't look at full sinks, I wash dishes. Skeletor rams head greenhouse effect will leave your plants dead, Battle cat mice trap polarized heat will melt your ice cap, In this world that we're living in, held together by gravity,  We are limited to what he hear, smell or see, touch or taste, With my senses erased, I can open up my face and contemplate space. Pass the venom, this kid has it in him, every time I have a spasm, There's an earthquake with rhythm, Steady stat theory everything has always been here, Better shave daily if you want to keep your chin clear, Mine's grizzly cause I hate using barbasol, The dean's dizzy like a saint louis cardinal, Life can be a veritable smorgasborg, Plus I'm T, double E,  Double R, double E, Double F, triple I, And Triple C to say the least.

[slimeystrings]

"I get lost in the deep space stars, And call for directions on prepaid cards, I don't got no pride when it comes to astronomy, If I know where I am then I feel like they're onto me. Still I got some questions for the kid who did the booking, Like "Where you hide in a haunted house?". I'm getting better at describing how I feel, Feeling less crushed beneath the wheel, I'm affected by head wounds and also concussions, Inflicted by us and almost some Russians, I am the rudest of all rude boys, so keep quiet unless you want some noise. No Katana, Sai, Nunchaku or Staff, Five finger discount, robbers make me laugh. They wanna hit us with the haiku, I guess I could try to, I'll probably stomp them out like I'm stompin' through the bayou. Gettin fly on the granite, But now I'm diggin' holes through the center of the planet- What. Currently I'm running out of currency, Don't tell my landlord, he'll take me back to Germany, And I'll be hiding in the attic in silence with the power out, Eatin' hot dogs with mad amounts of sourkraut, Me no loot, me no shoot, me no wail. I blasted into orbit on a ship to sail. Me no loot, me no shoot, me no wail. I landed on your planet but the ground was frail, Is it too hot to dance? Nah, we rock steady, And I'm light on my feet cause I'm mad top heavy."

[slimeystrings]

I keep my clothes in a casket, I sleep on a mattress, The only suitcase I own is a basket. I talk politics with unruly Chinamen, I like my water a third oxygen, and two thirds hydrogen, I'm on a mission. I don't got no time to be talkin' about my shoes, The fresh white ones with the black and red stripes, Hey yo, I drop mics like a scratch of head lice.

-MC Devlin