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The EQs​-​Men EP

by EQs-Men

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1.
(Verse 1: Christopher Michael Jensen) Seven billion pairs of shoes walk Earth's soil, and a lot got a hole in their sole from the toil, feelin' real hot headed, I'm sweatin', my blood boils, milkin' me for everything that I got 'til it spoils, brain is faded, emaciated from malnutrition, feels like feces, I thought my species was altruistic, but it's a landscape of snakes and landmines, and it's a struggle to juggle your troubles with hands tied, soon that boulder on your shoulders is a landslide, so standby, a plague is sweepin' through mankind, blood flows through a river, tears stain the terrain, trapped in my brain cells, yeah, my brain has been chained, it's like the language has changed, I don't understand, some use underhanded tactics for the upper hand, but I'm the other man, tryin' to do right, but cheatin' is succeedin', people don't wanna lose fights, so who's right, who's wrong, how do we move on, each measure is the pressure of stressors channeled through song, restless nights and I'm hopin' for a new dawn, the price is high, so I'm scopin' out the coupons, I'm invested, but I don't wanna pay with my life, and to make it I'll fight until my name's up in lights, I sacrifice, but I'll never be a slaughtered lamb, as long as I still breathe and I got a chance (Chorus: Christopher Michael Jensen) And you can put that on the words I use, yeah, you can put that on the words I use, some learn by lies, some learn by truth, I pray for the day the blind have a bird's eye view, and you can put that on the words I use, man, you can put that on the words I use, a lot o' stripes in the world, gotta earn mine, too, and I'll keep pressin' on if at first I lose (Verse 2: Panash) Yeah, son of a star jammer from the year of Tri-Lambda, pissin' these rappers off, I should buy stock in Pampers, on par with the grammar, even more when I'm on camera, til' our whole country get the point like Uncle Sam propaganda, I see food like cold dinner and you a cancer, crab in a bucket, I like scampi, you better scamper, I'm the catalyst, somethin' that you could never plan for, Heaven wanted me to write what God made hands for, we gon' be rappin' 'til they consider us the answer, your top three, better yet call us the trifecta, displayin' the knowledge of Ivy League college professors, you stand before royalty, you a clown, a jester, a joke, a phony, a fake, somethin' we want less of, when I kick it, tell the DJ run it back like Hester, you at the point of no return, homie, you done messed up, you gotta grin and bare it, walkin' 'round, puffin' your chest up, you penguin, you can't win, you knew that when you came in, you better, you lyin', and homeboy, we tame them, we flame them, and that's somethin' you can't come back from, we kill verses and fill hearses and let the choir have some (Bridge: Panash, Christopher Michael Jensen, & .dB) Panash: I said Panash, Chris, & .dB: Let the choir have some Panash, Chris, & .dB: Let the choir have some Panash: I said Panash, Chris, & .dB: Let the choir have some Panash: Chuuuch, and let the choir have some (Chorus: Christopher Michael Jensen) And you can put that on the words I use, yeah, you can put that on the words I use, some learn by lies, some learn by truth, I pray for the day the blind have a bird's eye view, and you can put that on the words I use, man, you can put that on the words I use, a lot o' stripes in the world, gotta earn mine, too, and I'll keep pressin' on if at first I lose (Verse 3: .dB) Young, black, and creative, Detroit City native, fuck out of my face if ain't no Dilla on yo' playlist, fuck your favorite DJ if my record ain't on replay, like where's the local love, 'cause they don't play that shit where we stay or where I stay, so I go fuckin' irate, fuck up yo' Serato, kick that shit across the tri-state, Midwest mindstate, tell me I'm not the hardest, I'm like what are you, retarded, your favorite rapper is garbage, but regardless I'm an artist, so welcome to my gallery, hopin' that these pieces put some commas on my salary, tryin' to make a masterpiece, but rappers wanna clash with me, a titan when I'm writin', you might just wind up a casualty, tryin' to stay grounded, and you can be my witness, I'm only down to Earth because I fell off Mount Olympus, that's why all o' my lyrics sound like forbidden scriptures, Dead Sea Scroll flow, I'm hopin' you get the picture, hopin' these people listen, stop and pay attention, this shit is out o' this world, take you to new dimensions, murder a couple beats and try to pray for redemption, then never suffer defeat by the hands of my competition (Chorus: Christopher Michael Jensen) And you can put that on the words I use, yeah, you can put that on the words I use, some learn by lies, some learn by truth, I pray for the day the blind have a bird's eye view, and you can put that on the words I use, man, you can put that on the words I use, a lot o' stripes in the world, gotta earn mine, too, and I'll keep pressin' on if at first I lose (Outro: Christopher Michael Jensen) What
2.
(Chorus: Panash) They say it ain't where ya from, it's where ya at, but my city on my fitted, so wear your hat, nothin' like home sweet home, the hood I used to roam, I said it ain't nothin' like home, they say it ain't where ya from, it's where you at, but my city on my fitted, so wear your hat, nothin' like home sweet home, the hood I used to roam, I said it ain't nothin' like home (Verse 1: .dB) They say home is where the heart is, well, 'til I make it back, I guess I will just be heartless, oh, my dearly departed, I can resurrect you, so sorry that I left you, but times got hard when they started to disrespect you, things got worse when the world would just neglect you, and I'm only one man, what can I do to protect you, I'm not Robocop, or Action Jackson, I'm just a nigga grindin', tryin' to get some traction, who would o' knew that the homie from Michigan would one day blow up and have the whole world listenin', never return calls, never return texts, it's funny how niggas make it and lose all respect for the hood, it feels like we just left the wood, roll another dutch and life is all good, but it changed, and things can never be the same, I just hope I'm still me when I get my taste of fame (Chorus: Panash) They say it ain't where ya from, it's where ya at, but my city on my fitted, so wear your hat, nothin' like home sweet home, the hood I used to roam, I said it ain't nothin' like home, they say it ain't where ya from, it's where you at, but my city on my fitted, so wear your hat, nothin' like home sweet home, the hood I used to roam, I said it ain't nothin' like home (Verse 2: Panash) Yeah, long legs I miss, the pretty ass view, now I'm around some Twins, but they ain't pretty as you, the show me state, St. Louis Missou, you raised me, made me a man, it's true, got scrapes and scars there, first dates and cars there, used to put starch on my jeans just to look clean, Lisa's, Imo's, Vess Sodas, I need those, had to keep a mug on my face just to look mean, but I know you mean well, hell, I turned out cool, in the streets is where I learned, not school, book smarts will only get you so far, but you can't spell hustle without the S-T-L, we go so hard, Laclede's Landin', down down the anthem, fitted with a bat and a bird, we takin' chances, hand to hand, and we still standin', reppin' the double O Rams, home sweet home, three one fo', understand it (Chorus: Panash) They say it ain't where ya from, it's where ya at, but my city on my fitted, so wear your hat, nothin' like home sweet home, the hood I used to roam, I said it ain't nothin' like home, they say it ain't where ya from, it's where you at, but my city on my fitted, so wear your hat, nothin' like home sweet home, the hood I used to roam, I said it ain't nothin' like home (Outro: Panash) It ain't nothin' like home
3.
Ol' Skool 03:34
(Verse 1: .dB) Uh, you take some Big and some Pac, take some hip hop and rock, add some Wu-Tang, some Run-D.M.C., and this what you got, the realest rappers you ever heard if you like it or not, you can ask us to leave, but you will beg us to stop not now, not ever, we just keep gettin' better, lyrics sound so impeccable, punchlines soundin' so clever, me, I just feel so incredible, we up on a pedestal, so pay close attention 'cause we might end up ahead o' you, 'cause Nash is chillin', Chris is chillin', once this album drop, we top billin', yes, you are now rockin' with the best, here's a bit of advice, don't mess with the EQs (Chorus 1: Panash & Christopher Michael Jensen) Panash: Now I ain't get up in the game for the money and the fame, but when I get on stage, bet they all know my name Panash & Chris: Go D, go D, go D, go D Panash: All I ever wanna do is rock a mic ol' school, fat chain, five finger ring, and my Pro Tools Panash & Chris: Go D, go D, go D, go D Panash: Go (Verse 2: Panash) Explosive, no coast ish, Panash, live from the land of the landlocked, bound to be in the green just like a hamhock, and lightning never strikes the same spot, no damn shock, and here I go again (yuh), spittin' that penicillin, triple hometown hero, evictin' any villain, y'all out here trippin' and I ain't seein' permission slips, apple for the teacher, I'm givin' knowledge to all the chirren, Cool J's Kangol, off the chain as Django, five finger ring and Rakim's gold chain, glow, flashy grandmaster, cool as Moe Dee, and I walk wit' a limp, call me Big Daddy Kane, yo, the crowd goes nuts when I'm rhymin' my ideas, build a verse from the ground up, I'm somethin' like IKEA, your whole style's ass, matter fact, it's gonorrhea, Minnesota poppin', now your girl wanna swallow the liter, ahh (Chorus 2: Panash, .dB, and Christopher Michael Jensen) Panash: Now I ain't get up in the game for the money and the fame, but when I get on stage, bet they all know my name .dB & Chris: Go Nash, go Nash, go Nash, go Nash Panash: All I ever wanna do is rock a mic ol' school, fat chain, five finger ring, and my Pro Tools .dB & Chris: Go Nash, go Nash, go Nash, go Nash (Verse 3: Christopher Michael Jensen) Real old school, I ain't no fool, I'm in a class of my own like I was home schooled, spit it over them Pro Tools, you just an amateur gettin' drilled, I nail a beat down and hammer it 'til it's killed, all you bullshit rappers know I gotta riff on you, like I worked at the Gizmonic Institute, but I'll reverse the roles and you'll get blasted into space, and if you crack wise, man, I'll smack you in the face, 2000 is when I started to rhyme, but I'll take it back to the 80's like I'm Marty McFly, you better check yourself at the door like gettin' carded outside, 'cause your raps are cornier than part of my eye, musical bombast, bringin' that raw rap, phatter than Lori Beth Denberg, you know I'm all that, you're beyond wack, ya better crawl back, 'cause if you talk smack, I'm ready for combat like Liu Kang, you better know this dude's name, Christopher spits hotter than blue flames in butane, that's how I ignite the crowd, my windpipe is loud every time I rhyme, grip mics, and shout (Chorus 3: Panash & .dB) Panash: Now I ain't get up in the game for the money and the fame, but when I get on stage, bet they all know my name Panash & .dB: Go Chris, go Chris, go Chris, go Chris Panash: All I ever wanna do is rock a mic ol' school, fat chain, five finger ring, and my Pro Tools Panash & .dB: Go Chris, go Chris, go Chris, go Chris
4.
(Verse 1: Christopher Michael Jensen) Yeah, when I hear a good beat, I wanna amplify it, so turn the stereo up as I jam beside it, a head bob's like a nod of approval, ya can't deny it, and ya can't dance to silence, nah, without music I feel useless and I have to find it, discovered my trade and I plan to ply it, so shit's about to pop off like the top of a dandelion, yeah, I stand defiant in the face of an industry that is dyin', most rappers are coastin', they're just goin' through the motions like they're pantomimin', but I've been puttin' in work and analyzin' the game for over ten years, fantasizin', now I've turned a new page, I'm on stage doin' what I love today and I can't describe it (Verse 2: .dB) Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm all over this track like my mic got cleats, together I am one with the beat, it kept me out the morgue, got me out the streets, kept me on board when I was surfin' from police, yeah, it's the only reason I'm not currently deceased, yeah, it's the only reason that I have inner peace, it's not just music to me, it's a movement to me, no other place I would rather be, than spittin' in the booth, or rockin' on stage, and you know you're the truth when your fans get enraged, 'cause you ain't comin' out, or you just wanna stop, I still get e-mails about when you gonna drop, I never plan to quit, so tell 'em that I'm here now, I would love to stop and hear all the cheers now, this is the life I chose, hip hop is in my soul, and without it I'm cold, yeah
5.
Kick It 03:31
(Chorus 1: Panash & Christopher Michael Jensen) Panash: I know, I know, girl you wanna kick it wit' me, I know, I know, girl you wanna go, I know, I know, girl you wanna kick it wit' me, I know, I know, girl you wanna go, can we kick it ("Yes we can") Can we kick it ("Yes we can") Can we kick it ("Yes we can") And we gone Chris: (Laaa daaa daaaaaaaa laaa daaaa, laaa laaa laaaaaaaa laaa daaaaa, laaa laaaa) (Verse 1: Panash) Yo, hello, beautiful (hey), what up, gorgeous (hi), most dudes run game, they give you sports clips (yuh), me, I'm the highlight, this is my courtship, I bring you courtside, right where the floor is, talented, a first round draft sister, if you don't get the point, allow me to assist ya (uh), I can tell you not the type for pick up games, you prolly want the title, huh, you tryna get that rang, you don't strike me like (no), you a trophy wife (no), you got that vibe like he better not approach me like (uh uhh), but if I see you crack a smile, then I'm rushin' your O line, you makin' a O face, I'm crossin' your goal line, you flyer than most and if you like then we can coast, and I hope you play that post, but if you shy, I'm Derrick Rose, and if you like how I ball in the lyrical sense (swish), then we can lay up, I mean in the biblical sense, yeah (Chorus 1: Panash & Christopher Michael Jensen) Panash: I know, I know, girl you wanna kick it wit' me, I know, I know, girl you wanna go, I know, I know, girl you wanna kick it wit' me, I know, I know, girl you wanna go, can we kick it ("Yes we can") Can we kick it ("Yes we can") Can we kick it ("Yes we can") And we gone Chris: (Laaa daaa daaaaaaaa laaa daaaa, laaa laaa laaaaaaaa laaa daaaaa, laaa laaaa) (Verse 2: Christopher Michael Jensen) Sometimes life isn't what you had in store, dealin' with the bull, and shit gets pulled like a matador, I'm lost on an island, seekin' solidarity, and dark clouds eclipse the clarity, but I'm selective, I have reservations like a Cherokee, it's tearing me up, who's gonna marry me, what a web we weave, stranded in the strands, a spectator of love, standin' in the stands, try to keep it positive like a thumbs up sign, middle finger to the bullshit and make the world mine, but I'd rather share it with you, too, and I don't mean Bono, I mean you, also, just a lonely dude who's sick of ridin' mono, so many bumps in the road, fallin' into potholes, without a passenger in life, so it'd be nice to go and kick it like Taekwondo (Bridge: Christopher Michael Jensen) 'Cause when I see you sitting all the way across the room, I wanna tell you everything that I would like to do, 'cause we can make it if we try, no use sayin' otherwise, you're the one for me (Chorus 1: Panash & Christopher Michael Jensen) Panash: I know, I know, girl you wanna kick it wit' me, I know, I know, girl you wanna go, I know, I know, girl you wanna kick it wit' me, I know, I know, girl you wanna go, can we kick it ("Yes we can") Can we kick it ("Yes we can") Can we kick it ("Yes we can") And we gone Chris: (Laaa daaa daaaaaaaa laaa daaaa, laaa laaa laaaaaaaa laaa daaaaa, laaa laaaa) (Chorus 2: Panash) I know, I know, girl you wanna kick it wit' me, I know, I know, girl you wanna go, I know, I know, girl you wanna kick it wit' me, I know, I know, girl you wanna go, can we kick it, can we kick it, can we kick it, and we gone
6.
(Verse 1: Panash) EQs-Men, gon' head and roll that green up, yeah, we call dat Yoshi, no, I ain't smokin', but some o' my boys is tokin', like a black dude on a network TV show, Panash, .dB, and Chris rock like CB4, like doobies in a bathroom life is all smoke and mirrors, Wizard Of Oz had me at a young age seein' clearer, but I digress as my lungs decompress, the reason that I'm on this track is to call these fakers out on they flexin', they Reggie Bush league, I'm good as good weed, elevated mindstate like I'm high on kush leaves, they pump fake, I follow through, my homeboy, Carter, that's for you, they out here livin' false, I'm just tryin' keep it true, you tryin' rap, let's do it up, I'm in it for the sacks o' green like I'm Scrooge McDuck, I pull my weight, I tow my rope, I'm burnin' up, I'm blowin' smoke (Interlude 1: Panash) Yeah, yeah, yeah, now I know ya'll like, Nash, you don't smoke, nah, I know, I was talkin' 'bout people that be blowin' smoke, like up your, you know, I don't wanna cuss, it's cool, C.M.J., where you at (Verse 2: Christopher Michael Jensen) C.M.J., straight-edge like CM Punk, but I'm a microphone fiend who always needs his drug, so while my competition's gettin' high, I terrorize everybody 'til they're no longer stoned, they're petrified, dudes are buggin', get sprayed in the face with insecticide, I got dreams of building an enterprise, feel me, testify, spittin' flows medicinal, lyrics so potent and loaded with dopeness, you could smoke 'em out a bowl and get lit like explosives, my shit is corrosive, it's burnin' holes in your headphones, my pencil's burning from verbals that get wrote, so many words my journal's tagged up like stencils, adrenaline, my brain is racin', gassed up like petro, XOXO, my love is sincere for those close to me, and it's gonna be a wonderful year, Rapfam, we live it twenty-four seven, always puttin' work in and birthin' verses like we were pregnant, get it (Interlude 2: Christopher Michael Jensen) Yeah, this is the adlib part of the song, I told Panash he should just come in and say some shit again but, .dB's killin' it with this beat, though, I think he's got some shit to say, too, yo, .dB (Verse 3: .dB) My flow is straight off o' Abbey Road, I am in another zone, tell my haters adios 'cause I'm gettin' that alamo, I do what they say I can't, 'cause those just sound like goals to me, guess I'm out here dream catchin', that's the Seminole in me, 'bout to lose my fuckin' mind, this beat has got control o' me, would o' got signed, but they couldn't get a hold o' me, well, I have paid off all my debts, now I just want what's owed to me, if you lackin' faith now, you should get your rosaries and, picture me rollin' up another J, them paper planes 'bout to make a nigga fly away, I'm on my second flight, crush up another gram, so fuckin' high on life, I hope I never land, top tier, you not in my caliber, cover up, I'm blowin' smoke on amateurs, I love my fans, but my haters act like groupie hoes, 'cause once I'm in the studio, I turn to Ricky Rubio, swish (Outro: .dB) I said once I'm in the studio I turn into motherfuckin' Ricky Rubio, I'll be goddamned if a nigga Kobe me, though, EQs-Men, C.M.J., Nash the nerd, .dB the beast, let's get 'em

about

The EQs-Men EP features 6 tracks with all original production.

credits

released November 13, 2013

Mixed by Quajoe.

Mastered by Wesley Opus.

All songs written and performed by Christopher Michael Jensen, Jerrald Spencer, and Lemar Gilreath.

All songs produced by .dB.

Artwork design by Jerrald Spencer.

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EQs-Men Minneapolis, North Carolina

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