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No Humans Allowed

by Louis Mackey & Thirtyseven

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Intro 03:06
(Louis Mackey) it’s early in the morning before the city’s awake I’m busy forging the words that can get me to grace no slippery slopes or apologetic diatribes I’ll die tonight if you find a lie in this entire rhyme I got Leviathan in my eyes again, doing it now a beautiful sound, no motherfucking humans allowed the earth looks pretty from here, as I’m eyein our chances the cities appear on the dark side of the planet (Thirtyseven) five oclock in the morning, somehow I’m still awake these are not rhymes, these are thought crimes in fifty states the cops showed, we chill and wait, got stoned and still escaped run for blocks, buzzing off the blood in Bob Dylan’s veins ...see, I always figured that I’d probably die before I ever became a sane and responsible guy so I try the meet and greet but I can never relate because to me you’re venison steaks doing impressions of apes (Louis Mackey) the fee is free, you just need to see and open your eyes and even me, I’m a measly seed in a ocean of time every moment is a gift, totally beholden to which we solely exist because of one fortunate tick and when it’s over, it’s it, kiss the coldest abyss I do not owe you shit knowing this is no hope or a trick that’s eventually going to fix your worldview unless we successfully explode it to bits (Thirtyseven) and now the plot thickens as the picture is distorted yeah, I sound a lot different on original recordings got a high sensitivity to Zen simpilicity but kids who try to mimic me can visit the emergency room, passed you off to the surgery crew because I am not in the building or the shirt or the mood to spend time working with you, dude, honest assessment: I have not been impressed with the way a lot of you rep it (Lou) whatever I’m stuck on today I can shoe it aside look out in the beautiful wide and my ego crumbles away you humans can lie and tell yourselves you’re something in space but the assumption is based on a clutching to faith the cuffs and constraints and fundamental debates of which under the face is really governed by hate and when the covenant breaks and there’s nothing to save us we’ll burn slow then return home as we come to a quasar (Thirtyseven) ..yeah, that’s that Big Picture that I’m talking about that’s the final frontier...and that’s Freemasons locking us out so when I smoke my salvia, that’s straight space science till I can upgrade to enough space to raise lions cuz if I build there first, fuck you, the moon is mine that’s the main reason I waste weed on stupid rhymes Im just raising the funds to aim for the sun ...guess the rest of you can stay in your huts and wait for the Flood
(Louis Mackey) here’s trainwrecked actor or a mainstream rapper with a catchy line so ya’ll stay enraptured I’ll fall back to it eleven times hipster hop, devoured up, beaten to death by what the hour wants in and out, one media breath but easy chump, this beat is just a reason to be breathing demons up til I’m seeing leaking guts, steeping in sea of blood he told it clear the little prick only had to speak it once whose whole career is moldy beer, cigarettes and seedy blunts I’m awfully sick of settling for small kicks of adrenaline half-wit woman, liquor and prescription medicine now there’s nothing more to lose, so it’s worthless to say that “it’s all been done before” assumes a purpose or way above our orbital fray, a direction working to gain a knowing of a higher source for our pain, an order, recourse for the blame but there’s nothing, never was, just good ole’ crude enslavement they set up you up to get your blood thru your own hallucinations (Thirtyseven) people want some entertainment ... simple little statements rap is noise with free plastic toys your kids can play with Waka Flocka Flagrantly retarded garbage artists just exist to hit the hardest target market, which is hipster kids this crossover pop flow is so boring... kids, just GO FOR IT, off those little domes with no choruses I know I should hold my peace, but see, most of your flows are weak and yet most of the shit I've said is straight over my critic's heads I'm larger than life, the poverty nights with ramen and rice then walk in tonight and Viking slaughter the mic fuck waitin, the frustration of a couple month waiting then change it up to playing buzzed and waking up in bus stations the art of the scam...yeah, man, I'm part of the band drunk for days, wake up and ace some Harvard exams so pardon me man, see, I'm basically a shark with some hands and if you're gonna spit, please fucking spit as hard as you can...
(Thirtyseven) does thirtyseven still battle? probably not... if I gotta prove shit to you kids, I’ve already lost motherfuck a diss track, I’ll be calling your moms and then having your ass grounded if you talk to me wrong actually bro, I’m over stabbing rappers at shows I practice alone, study tracks and master my tone with classic control, and my live act is actual dope so act like you know, and back up while I pack up and go no offense, dude, but fuck your local music scene I speak of errybody and I touch the whole community I’ll book your home town, do a bunch of frontal nudity and have you whole fan base running home to google me ….I’m a one man poetry slam plus the opening band getting stoned in the van me and Lou have blacked out off at least 40 beers and we produced a rap album longer than your careers (Louis Mackey) Does Lou Mackey talk shit with every breathe that he’s got ? Bet I’ve tested my weapon from Texas to Prague left some Estonian broads, stunned, breathless in awe after i crashed the rental car and still went to the bar woke with memory loss, and espionage charges guess that it’s all garbage, death to the other artists place bets that your off target— with whatever fuck-endeavor, convenient store attempt to get audience and frontal nudity is nothing to new to me clear out the chumps, prudes and leave just the beauty queens she’s here overnight, but I’m sending you home, it’s bedtime too good for open mics, too unknown to headline it’s the same song, we aren’t new or progressive except for day long seances in studio sessions told the other side, “yeah I got the message” just shut up and rhyme back YouTube’s comment section (Thirtyseven) can you poodles get the point of NO HUMANS ALLOWED? ...future mutant music for the few and the proud? ...of course you Normals are snooping around stop and watch, call the cops cuz these dudes are too loud but nah, I search for a way to make a cop burst into flames off of nothing but a verse that I made, yup ...I’m sure you get blazed and work on the same stuff schmuck searching for fame, commercial and bankrupt basically, you remix your favorite three great emcees’re a dope cover song, way to be way to be redundant, way to be a waste of meaty substance ...way to be a brain in pre-production ...daydreaming ‘bout the cake you need to run shit when we been masterpiecing off a straight graffitti budget world around show and proving dope producing, no excuses...yeah, I know, it’s so confusing bad touch, the shame and disgust took one look at me and couldn’t speak my name for a month
Death Of You 02:15
(Thirtyseven) I know, it's so obvious we stole all this shit plagarism posing as post-modernist I can do the suit and tie or do the do or die you decide, Judas, I'm used to being crucified crazy what can brew inside a human mind but who am I to judge another's man stupid lies? never learned the truth, but I learned to see whatever works for you, can learn to work with me and real talk, I'm sick of real talk...moment of silence see, the second that you said that shit, I know that you're lying and that's the real pattern to what's happening here if real recognized real, you wouldn't have a career but fake recognize fake, though: sheep suits, plainclothes secret handshakes, loopholes and grey zones passwords over payphones, fake bank notes remote detonate the payload and came straight home (Thirtyseven) no days off … no downtime or DEE lays, blazed out, outlined a three page breakdown... no days off … no median, no sleeping in no easy clowns, no comedians (Louis Mackey) waiting by the phone, hoping it doesn’t ring jazz playin thru the gramophone, someone sings reflecting back, clouded, stuck, sittin stunned didn’t really think about what happened till it was done backed outta the scene, and straight walked away as sirens screamed and squawked, they saw my face there was no need to stop me as I calmed my gaze paused to read my watch and saw it all in flames— ...the blast field dents the earth nothing better than the feel of a cleansing purge —the veteran police chief went berserk when he heard we made the jet engine dead for Zurich ...child of the 90s, before those beliefs had died that piece of my life tried to eat me alive, the demon that thrived then is still sleeping inside keep speaking your mind, he’ll be easy to find (Thirtyseven) no days off … no downtime or DEE lays, blazed out, outlined a three page breakdown... no days off … no median, no sleeping in no easy clowns, no comedians
(Thirtyseven) History is nothing but an ad for being white so I piss on your assumptions and your cracker Jesus Christ yeah, hi folks...whats up, I like to rhyme yo and leave your mind blown through your slave labor iPhones stop bitching cuz they’re giving you prescription drugs you don’t have a condition, chump, you’ve just given up were hoping it was hopeless and bam, now it is and you got every last excuse that you need for cowardice drives me crazy, many times I gotta say to you Obama is an actor and Bill Clinton fucking hated you no matter what, the same players make their dividends (they’re only legalizing weed to keep us all from killing them) the internet exists first and foremost to search for porno (yeah, word to axl rose’s perfect corn rows) prove me wrong...see, I know what movie’s on and I see through, beyond and back around to do this song so move along... (Louis Mackey) “experts” flock at speaking functions to sit and talk while the preacher and priest are running to the liquor spot living stops when the numbers on the ticker drop seems your fickle God has gone and took a trip abroad not sour or broken even in the bowels of the omen I’m just trying to get my piece of power to broker it’s not subliminal, though they doubt that your focused just common criminals who work out in the open ...walk down Wall Street like the Man with No Name I confront you as the type to stand stone faced you scurried to get out of my hand’s honed aim etched “GREED” in your forehead, you ran home maimed to get back in order, while I drunkenly strut my wares at the corner of Wall and Nassau, stumble up the stairs a kiss goodbye, swig the rye, and hit cover ...I got a big surprise coming for big brother
(Thirtyseven) we keep it too loud to fucking pretend there’s any way to safely fake a conversation with your dumb as shit friends watch it and weep...yeah, babe, philosophy’s deep it’s a deep dish of cheez whip and cheap nachos to ME thanks for snack, I love the way your faces react like nope, that was not joke he ain’t taking it back fuck this crowd, that’s right, you love me now so jump around get drunk and loud let’s shut shit down (Louis Mackey) the times I watched from afar with the shame of how I let this clown who rhymes out-market my name Now I’m dumpin’ shots down the pipe at the bar in my brain punished by the sound of a white tard barking it’s name these excuses running back that can be made in the stead of the cold fucking fact that I just laid in my bed, yes from the night before, surprised my brain isn’t dead roll over, stone sober, face to face the ex (Thirtyseven) I’ve seen a lot of ladies throw drinks in his face she said something something, strode quickly away came back an hour later, wrote her digits and name give it a day, and she’s going Code Pink at his place (Louis Mackey) Not exactly politically correct when I consider what is said I aim for the hearts and Thirtyseven hits em in their head writtens in the flesh, next up is the slick magician’s set and isn’t a success unless we’re getting in her bed (Thirtyseven) everybody wants a Matt Damon moment with Lou when you stare at him with that face, I know that it’s true you just wanna argue backstage, the show is a ruse for a closet homophobe to make his opening moves (Louis Mackey) think that it’s strange how I shut off when you bitch and complain? Like dude that’s cool but I’ve got no interest today another rap tool, who asks you if his mixes were straight I’m like, “Fuck it, just quit”... simple and plain the kid was so stricken with rage i got hit in the face the shit i’d pay to never suffer another shitty refrain sloppy and wack, and then they tactically fail like they’re not a copy of an act on a national scale (Thirtyseven) photocopies...clones with stoner hobbies short bus rappers, future frozen bodies you know the type, grade school graduate overbite and anywhere you go tonight there’s two at every open mic don’t know how to hold a mic, rapping since the 80s, though you’re dumb and lazy, bro, it’s a shame that you get paid for shows ….the fact you got fans is a problem to me cuz chances are, those random tards probably breed (seven three thirty thirty dirty birdy word up) y’all are turd polishers, you aim for the charts you’re not artist, you’re a target and replaceable part yeah, welcome to the industry, kid, something vicious jungle fitness, don’t hustle gimmicks, struggle different
(Thirtyseven) I can make the case for euthanasia to a room of strangers ...not just convincing them, convincing them to do it later you’re saying life is beautiful but you’re a stupid hater I’m basing that on basic math that you can prove on paper …I can set the weapons on the stage and walk away you can’t direct improvisation, you’ve just gotta pray but you can bet this modern age has gotta pop someday and you don’t even wanna contemplate the way this all relates ...and I can see that we’ve been freaking you out shoulders up, little stoner stuck deep in the couch you cobra clutch social drugs to keep people around but you know it’s a joke and they see through it now, ouch... I can bet that we do not agree for lots of reasons... won’t matter when we’ve lost our heat and crops are freezing won’t matter when you’ve gotta keep your Mom from screaming cuz she’s watching zombies feeding off her daughter’s body pieces (Louis Mackey) I wonder... does the strain end in this vicious maze? we’re all seeing under the same lens with different shades it’s a shame, when we’re hollow and sit and wait for the sickle blade to swallow us up, and hit the grave pain’s deep, probably smothered out your faint dreams wake, sleep, walking up and down the same street going manic with this same shit, I can’t obey the matrix frozen fabric in space, moving animated faces rabid mannequins standing in a straight line its hard to handle this and exist at the same time ...I pass by the old theater, stuck in the rain they're grippin' cups for our change, I act like I don’t see em' though it’s getting dark, I handle my payload ...swim with sharks, dance with the angels and I’ve made it far to see the ease with which ...saints get shot and thieves get rich


released May 5, 2011

Recorded, Mixed and Mastered by Custom for Custom Audio Landscaping:

Cover photography and design by Memetic Supply Co.


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