Get all 11 brokeMC releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Satan's Little Miracle (an ode to the internet), End of the world Mixtape, DEADBEATS, Broad Cast, Re:Purpose, brokenphonograph, Seeing Things, Make it Better, and 3 more.
Excludes supporter-only releases.
1. |
Seeing Things Intro
01:48
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2. |
Doom Days
02:50
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Steady as she goes. steady, ready for another one. Dunk Tank, water gun, hit me with a sucker punch. Mother love drunk in the gutter punk shutter bug, Blink, shove, shrink, shrug, shudder to think smug.
Drug dealer thug appeal gun in his grill, he got a funny way of knuckin but none of it's real, he got a pack of self destruction and a knack for deduction and He'll serve you want you want -- just be careful not to touch him!
we boomin' in the doom days
we fire at will,
keep checkin' your reflection
admire the kill.
She's crushing on a tin man. Tugging on his chin strap, giving him a hug so he can press against her implants, big bang, theory time, bleary eyed, she replied, "It's nearly 9-- wanna cheer me up for the night?" hell yeah, short sight, long stroke, gone with her hope wrong road overloaded host about to explode, out of control freak juice need a fresh squeeze. let's leave -- "yes please" --Get wrecked in the streets,
we boomin' in the doom days
we fire at will,
keep checkin' your reflection
admire the kill.,
so we dip dip drive, on a lipstick slide, hang a stone cold smile made her biscuick rise, misfit eyes match multiply sly, joke to make tile fly, smoke to get her thighs high, climb vines to the sky line cut the bean stalk, weak spot, deep thought, grew out us some green pot, blow my knot on a round of Cheap shots, throat's hot, spittin' dope rock rhythms to these ro-bots.
we boomin' in the doom days
we fire at will,
keep checkin' your reflection
admire the kill.
But the show's not over til Oprah sings tha coda
and all the ogres sober up enough not to grope ya
tough turkey plucker stuck up with a hot poker
drove miss Daisy crazy like a narcoleptic chauffer
the pattern takes time to take root and break through
the main line push the pain out of the mind to make room
for the brave new world disorder lit shorter fuse
and the suicide girls in the cars that go boom.
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3. |
Dust in my Attic
04:37
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I got too much dust in my attic.
Addicted to the magic, the heroes in the static,
Too many MCs never get up off the mattress,
so I never lie down till I've blown out the canon.
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4. |
Every Damn Day People
05:18
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Where my people at? Beat freakers and heat seekers
Revolutionary leaders, street sweepers and peace keepers
deep thinkers linking with similar beasts of burden
carrying knowledge like apple trees carry serpents
these chariots of fire carry various desires
to tear open my eyes like flares up in the night sky
finally aware of my position in these times to be a beacon of light keeping the feeling alive.
all day every damn day
too much work and not enough play
all day every damn day
trappen in a pattern to manage the dismay
On the street in the sun I ride the beat and the drums
while the people speed on I write and try to keep up
it's so easy to shrug off freeze up and sleep on
go home puff weed and turn the TV on
but I be the type of freak to eat candy from strangers
while most folks don't know their family from their neighbors
love less than rapists or rough sex in cages
gettin locked down like storm doors protecting the basement
But I'll be a savage oasis bringin it back to the basics
and cracking the case like sherlock with my canonball cadence
I got a habit of making my mark scratching with car keys
like trying to find a pulse in the tin man's arteries
These heart beats speaking deeper truths than sharp beaks
on harpies, barkeeps and carnies and if
the carnage is high and I need some advice
I put my ear to your chest and get the meaning of life
to my people
people of the earth
step a little closer and show me where it hurts
to my people
people of the planet
we can make it better but we gotta understand it
I am everyday people
(hook)
I don't think anybody really knows what it's all about, there's no
plot synopsis, summary or rundown,
We're just a bunch of tongue in cheek,
bumblebee drones
living as humble beings til the queen's on the phone, then it's talk a lotta nada tryna polish up yer shine.
And bait the hook proper so she swallows all your lines,
a sugar momma's grand for all your criminal designs,
just make sure to keep her eyes off all your dimes on the side.
and have the time of your life,
enjoy the bumps and the grind,
let the smoke fill your lungs
and slowly open your eyes
there's an ocean of lies tryna swallow and choke ya
and a bunch of dopes tryna twist yer gizzard in their ropes,
cause they've given up their hope, so
they're grabbin at yours
as if it had the answer they were clamoring for
and it's harder than ever just to remember how to feel
but if we put our heads together maybe we can find what's real.
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5. |
Ghost Town
05:32
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Right here in the middle of Nowhere I feel better than I've ever felt. Right here in the middle of Nowhere I found a deeper understanding of Self.
Nothing but Nothing stretches in all directions. I find myself as the intersection, the beginning and ending, both sides of the fence; where time is absent and thoughts are immense.
Where one road cuts through the fat of the land to the bone of the rock, the flesh of the sand. It's harsh and it's beautiful. It gives and takes back, and you can tell it's God's Country because everyone's mad.
The day is hot passion and the night is cold sin, and blood wells up from every hole you dig, and there's more gold in the hills than you could ever hope to find, and your soul exists just to wrestle with the sky.
In this grand expanse, every star speaks of hope, and every cloud is a dream that a mountain let go.
Be sure to ask yourself after we meet on the road, were you talking to me or my ghost?
Slow down. This is my Ghost Town. You've got to go now. Welcome Home Now. Slow Down. This is my Ghost Town. You've got to know how I lost control.
This is my home. So nice of you to pass through my gas station. Let me use it as a classroom. Fast paced sands blast the hourglass groove in this sour patch of earth that the map never knew.
There's crazy energy here like Katmandu, and it's nice to have a couple souls to yap to a babble about the stash of artifacts I've gathered, and I'd love to capture some of your laughter.
See, out here there ain't no Alize or Mobsters so we dance to rhythm of rattlesnake maracas. There's lakes to ponder the depth of the water, the voice of your Mother, the breath of your Father.
The next step is harder: The better part of forever is sharper than anything you could comprehend. it's close to torture. Don't say I didn't warn you. I'm just another ghost haunting this hotel California.
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6. |
The Robot's Heel
03:03
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7. |
The Discovery
05:04
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8. |
Too Much to Deal With
04:33
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Another late night, strike, border early morn
flight of the navigator, animated porn
dilapidated cornucopias, fabricated phobias
blowin dust, nobody but us.
Us is We, club VIP, pump, grind and lean, bump
life is speed, jump high and scream till all our eyes bleed
keep talking baby or w'll die in our sleep.
Fly with me flutter on moth wings dusted
getting closer to the light envisioning combustion
how close can we get if we're not allowed to touch it
you feel it, fuck it, but first you gotta trust it, well
so much for that one, cut another round
wait for your chance to empty your head of the clouds
face paint melting like you cold clocked a clown
this circle of lust would sure make old Bacchus proud.
Back and forth and up and down,
you ain't ever gonna get out of this town,
it's the same old bottle being passed around,
so shut your eyes and open your mouth
don't that foam go straight to the dome though
pull that line, teeth grind and smoke Ohs
Showboat floating through the holes in the ozone
ya hold tight to the light but don't choke the soul's growth
now I don't wanna make you paranoid, but you're
acting like a Scarecrow's hairy groin, barely
enjoying the company you keep in that
pumpkin shell where Peter's little wifey weeps.
Nice dreams, priceless, dancing with a specter
two left feet insecurity collector,
insanity lecture, contaminated minds
you're rambling on nothing unconcerned with a reply
burn those feelers, sensors and gumb lick,
grab her by the hips, lip lock and tongue kiss
dusted reflections magnify the bad brains then
dirty sex on the mattress adding to the stains
gather the remains like cadavers in the rain
bastards of the fall, bitches on a chain
at the end of the day you hate em all the same
cause you didn't find the magic in that 8 ball's game.
It's ours
but no one really wants it
the power
its just enough to run with
the money
throw your dollars in the air
the future don't exist as long as we're right here.
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9. |
Follow That
05:08
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she's swingin thor's hammer, maybe sick of your manners
and I'm tryna make a point as if the score matters
slam the door shatters, swingin like some bored batters
flyin out at night just to watch the whores scatter
sure I tend to get stuck in the rafters
drifitin with my thoughts, caught up in disasters
whirlpools and slander, hurricane slam dancers
blur my brain faster disturbin gray matters
i play the same casper I played since day one
a plaster cast bastard tryna stay out of the sun
cool as alabaster, a pale faced imitation
stackin up my chips gettin cracks in my foundation
found salvation in an hourglass maiden
took a sip and couldnt quit, i loved the way she tasted
couldn't flip the wastin witness distintegration
cryptic communications got me twisted up and faded
We build it up just to break it down
thinkin bout thinkin bout bout gettin around
as soon as we get up we thinkin bout gettin out
when she laughs she shakes the ground
so catch me sittin silent tryna embrace the sound
I'm wakin now, breakin down every detail i found
decypherin heiroglyphics, a pyro and a mystic
missile silos stand mimic the war of roses and cynics
and all's fair I guess, stock up the matches and gimics
packaged each shipment to distract all the minions
and it looks great from a distance but there's cracks in the finish
i've mastered the method of patchin up imperfections
sweepin dust under the carpet, closet full of resurrections
a heart beneath the floorboards, brain in the freezer section
so i can ignore all the problems for my own greedy protection
but the resulting situation's made of cheap imitations
never gettin deep enough to complete the equation
all the numbers i get simply add up to frustration
cause i know if I call you i risk overstimulation
this game of cat and mouse got me savage with doubt
got so much i wanna say that may never get let out
and half of me thinks I should just break down and speak
but time's usually a better cure for this sort of disease
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10. |
Broke Pimpin'
04:25
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11. |
In the Dark
04:14
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Here we are again.
it’s just you and me.
Here it is.
It’s been a long road, ya’ll walked it with me
from the po’dunk towns to the frosted cities.
We seen the hard times, never thought of quitting.
Never got kissed off, just left the bottle spinning—
Kids games for high stakes and big breaks
like promises and hearts, all the sharpest mistakes
that park in your brain of leave scars in your face,
that stay with you until the end of this red carpet race.
You had all the aces but you gave them away,
taken for granted and traded in for some fame,
erasing your past trying to make a new name
but the roots stay the same and you can’t get away.
You gave It your all cause you thought it was your friend.
Then you gave it some more and it just took it and grinned.
Borrowed from chums cause you thought it might end—
always giving out out might as well be giving in.
Splitting the skin on your feet and your hands.
Living for something that you just don’t understand,
But its too late to scramble, you couldn’t cancel your plans
cause they all saw you jump placing bets on where you’ll land.
This creation weighs heavy, birthing untouchable things;
so many unsteady angels working troubled wings.
Muffled mantras; I’m lost in a haze of nag champa
but I’m stronger than I let myself be. I’m stronger!
I conjure these feeble beasts to charge you in fleets.
It’s a card up my sleeve, not so hard to believe—
a carnival ride on a weekend of sweet weakness
sweeping the evening squeaky clean of grievance.
I’m detached from the marvels I hatch, and startled to catch
myself spitting bland articles, farcical batch of
blasphemy—bohemian rhapsodies,
scheming for a safe place to sleep with her majesty.
Please keep your distance I’m feeding the crooks.
Believe me sweetie it’s not as easy as it looks.
They need me to bleed on the plates and the cutlery.
They wait for my suffering, my pain and percussioning
I’m through with the sideshow lifestyle and glamour.
I’m moving to the cemetery, no more critics of cameras.
I’m stitching up the vein I been bleeding for too long
and next time you come to look for me I’ll be gone.
In dark like this all you can do it breathe
and try to figure out if you’re awake or asleep.
In dark like this there’s no sense of direction
just thoughts and questions from a parallel dimension.
In dark like this you’re floating blind—
you lose self and time in the middle of your mind.
In dark like this you get torn apart
cause in dark like this
all you can see is your heart.
I’m been tangled in the brambles where the demons come to play
and I’ve know angels who couldn’t handle another day.
I seen a man in freezing rain pull change from a fountain
and I still hate myself for not saving his from drowning.
I been places on this planet that would just break your heart
where you can just stand and the scene will just take you apart;
the type of true beauty that gives birth to art
and the type of horror that leaves your soul riddled with scars.
All good things must come to an end
and you fight that fact from the day you’re born
getting close to your enemies and alienating friends
living life too fast to ever let yourself mourn.
But there’s still light in darkest of days
and Father Time’s grinning though he’s got no teeth
a walk in the rain can make your soul feel sane
and I still live for all that you show me.
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12. |
Seeing You Out
02:04
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brokeMC Brooklyn, New York
Since 2005, brokeMC has been an innovator of the Indie NYC rap scene. Releasing five solo albums, collaborating on three
albums with the famous MINDSpray Crew, and countless other cameos and contributions, he is a prolific creative force and active supporter of the NYC music community.
brokeMC believes in revolutions of heart and mind, expansion of soul and spirit, and evolution of perception.
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