Moonshine: You Know, For Kids!

by Tony Moon

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released April 20, 2008



all rights reserved
Track Name: Catch You
my 16s got the imagery of a sick fiend.
or its an orchestra of carcasses picked clean
scoring the story of this author. I spit scenes.
the speed of mine is red line like an inf beam
fuck a cool whip; I ain't about quick cream
but you probably don't get what that shit means. Simply
the government manufactures the doe
out of thin air to keep us trapped in a hole
we owe the i,m, and f
trillions while american families keep writing their checks
to pile up the debt while we stay up in a police state.
god help us if they decide to collect
with their guns kicking open our doors
so i react like toussaint louverture over this overture
throw 'em overboard
at the white house like "what you think this gas and the torch is for? nigga, war.
Track Name: What Happened?
ever since the nintendo was 8-bit, i stayed sick
stickin duck hunt guns in faces of racists, like "take this"
we was in stuttgart, far from hip hop
i still did my first tag by age 6
missed out on the basics though
temperal lobe had no template to create this flow
from the states, tapes was flown in of my favorite cartoons
cause base had only one station to view
now it's just basically getting blazed as i pace in my room
a different way to escape for a few
far away from the places where the hatred's in bloom
takin shape of the strangest of fruits. blacks hang in a noose
from branches because they stay with their roots
if you feel like a slave all day in your cube
getting clocked by the cops making your moves, or paying your dues
tell narcoleptics the next re-awakening's soon

what happened to clapping in crowds
without actually blasting the rounds?
what happened to "black and I'm proud"?
was that shit just back in the day?

now its just actors and clowns
now its just platinum in mouths
now its just crack in their vials
damn, this shit is a shame

so follow me like eyes in portraits
as i spit fire with geyser forces
geiger counters clocking seismic pulses
pick me up like forklifts
off the scale; can't record this rawness
ill effects with unexplainable causes
between bars is code so scan it
understand the subtext i planted like pot botanists
before sweet chariot swing low like hammock
the plan is to inflict damage
to the system - leave no building standing
kill evil with reckless abandon
you sick ass sycofants' song and dance is transparent
son i'm straight like san serif.
i can't bear this shit any longer.
so i'm shiftin into position ecclipsin your whole genre - its karma.

what happened to radicals out
trying to rally the town?
what happened to challenging power?
was that shit just back in the day?

now this where fascists are found
now this where grassroots are plowed
what happened to malcolm was foul
for showing us we're all the same
Track Name: These Days
the beat drop - i grip it like zip lock
at the practice range i spit glocks in case the militia
gotta step up to displace the police force
i'm bipolar; call me see-saw
rise then i free fall - high; its like i'm riding an eagle
but my eye lids low; its like they crawl on the seafloor
the all seeing eye's in my peephole
and the government is lovin genocidin a people
on the sneak yo, we got our own darfur right here
thats my word. like i coined it
but fuck coins, the fed's poisonous
can't list all the ways they're destroying us
so fuck it, split up a dutch, stuff it, roll it, lick it, light it, and puff it
there's nothin as smooth as moon wit percussion
i bust it like breasts with messages for the public
like PSAs like "please say ney to the club hits
fuck a government, buck a bilderberg with a musket"

in a land where the cops are robbers
and they itch like fiends to pop us
anything to impede our progress
living in these days man

in a land where the politicians
didn't hesitate to give us syphillis
anything to increase their riches
living in these days man

i must be another being. i had another dream
black men chantin where klansmen hung from trees
swing in breeze, it stuck wit me
awaken and then bake cause it's far from what you see
in the streets. fuck them picaninny niggas and shuffling feets
i vent and get in touch with the beat
i want to retrogress like its vintage
arm up with a clinched fist - just like a monkey paw's fifth wish
inhale, sprinkle the air with the spliff's piff
but meditation won't change the legislation
we lost control and we're letting satan
shorty's head was braided
double dutching - let a stray hit her and catch her brain and
for a moment she levitated
days darker than the red she laid in - eleven maybe
twelve, and you tryin to tell me that this ain't a hell we stay in?
but we aim the wrong way, send shells to the ones who made it

in a land where this "white vs. black" shit
is divide and conquer tactics
see, reality is all theatrics
living in these days man

in a land where the media's owned by
three white guys each with their own lies
can't even believe what we see with our own eyes
living in these days man

they tried to hide, but I found 'em
they're underground and enshrouded
behind a cloud of
propaganda and keeping us cowards
a fucked up media balance, fluoride in fountains
and their power's all-reaching so there's no where to seek an asylum
unless its the mountains with tibetans and learning the lessons
or with the aztecs in the jungles and burning the sess, so
i murder each session with a verbalist's weapon
its all a regression
back to the ancestors blessings
my project may address all of common's questions
and jada's while i'm at it on a song with cedric
trust me, that'd be a head trip
somethin like "fear and loathing in vegas"
please, your whole crew's the fakest
your pussy posse is passe don't say shit
get back to the basics
if you ask me these days, kid - rap need a face lift
i'm the surgeon and my mic is the scalpel to save it.

in a land where the superficial
is exalted over substance and soul
project paper clip, the shit's official
living in these days man

in a land where it's all designed to
distract and control your mind too
moon's here to help us rise and climb through
living in these days man
Track Name: Evolutionary Music Snippet
george orwell called the future's past before it happened
so the fascist's plan wasn't as secret as they'd hoped it had been
yeah, i scoped the bastards from under the nose of master
[to] see what sort of tactics expose and decompose them faster
so i smoke the hashish [to] cope with the fact the
government's using brazillian guerrilla soldier torture tactics
we need a new flood, and moon control the ocean's actions
i see your level son, my consciousness is floating passed it
with the urge to kill these words in hopes to kill the bilderbergs
movements are underground, and son my sound is still submerged
you can feel the words like poetry
listen closely to my bars; you'll hear your third eye opening
wordlife, certainly.
my bars get into your bloodstream just like your vaccines' mercury
that have stillbirths increase in the black third worlds to keep
us down as they stack more currency
Track Name: Straight Poetry
from breast fed to death bed
i'm the best wit a message, eclectic, the wrong one to mess wit
i read it in the isis papers - light the vapor
whats the price of life if life is slavework
so i spark, inhale and exhale
i'm wit you marcus garvey, lets ditch hell and set sail
its like i gotta get back in the booth to get back to my roots
we're distracted to the fact the fascists are through
so we sling rocks like sling shots
and they get paid for each one of us in the bing, locked - you think not?
their hustle's bigger than you running you rings, got
retaliation's going to take more than you thing cocked
the sound lingering in my ear
is my inner demons schemin, won't they disappear?
i am you, you are me
i know it's deep, i'll explain it in my first LP, peace

its tony moon, don't assume you can compare to him
i'm bubblin hot like a spoonful of heroin
rip an rapper wanna be fool playing heroine
until my mama's room looks like a tomb in a pyramid
rap from here to cameroon and then here again
the spook who sat by the door, renewed and so very sick
a stranger to myself, records playing what i felt
i can't blame man for soliciting satan for his help
cause i'm blazing strays with the same flames that's from his hell
same reason why my soul's going insane up in this shell
i bring lyrics to life
spliffs got me hearing whispers at night
smoke hangs like strange fruit obscuring my visions of life
the plain truth? no prescription's fixing my sight
[i'm] walking with a citizen's (c/k)ane while citizens fight
admit it yo, this shit isn't right
you've never heard a nigga spit some shit like this in your life

i wear sunglasses inside, cause my eye's the window
plus i can't deny yo, i'm high off indo
you deserve to die if you don't ride for kinfolk
despite they say the way i smoke la is sinful
yeah, i b-b-b-burn the herbage
it helps me transcend like a whirling dervish
your words are worthless compared to my verses' verbiage
aspergillum to purge the earth wit
so subversive
hear beats and get an urge to murk it, hotter than an urban church is
with the erk & jerk (E&J), i'm swirvin
drive to the spot, then like lurch, i'm servin
hot 16s not them birds you lurk wit
i'd rather have the ones in the skirts that're chirpin
jerks lying about puttin work in, its curtains
i'll amber alert your children, you hear him?
Track Name: Not Fertha Masses
they say the brass on my african masks keep the ghosts away
but at night i hear what the ghostses say, they
tell me to flow this way
revolt and save your folks from pain
sandwich niggas trying to be heroes catch an open face
so i'm underground like its opus dei - i hope for days we don't have to give the homeless change
elusive as the memories i've smoked away
the smell of dead first borns and locust plagues,
pagan stars and the cycle of solar rays swim in my dome for days
organize it all and spit it in the poems i play
i hope the heart and the mind can both relate
mentally, spoons get bent when i'm stoned like ben grimm
high - it's like i'm flying on the wing - i'm a gremlin
trying to sabotage the system from within
its more than black and white when i strike to avenge kin

this is not for the masses
and its not for the passive
the fact is, we're different fabrics
in the same tapestry

this is not for the masses
this is for those with a passion
into takin some action
this ain't what it has to be

burn the system down
i'm sick of sittin down
if it comes to spittin rounds
i'm gon' do it - thats the only way i know to start a movement
i should stop smokin, i'm too lucid
the government's proof's got holes like that d12 crew kid
their smoke and mirror illusions? i see through it
though they keep tappin my rappin i keep movin
with speech proven to be deadly
in deep medleys - i'm the rumbling in the beast's belly
tryin to purge like an olsen twin sister's urge
like the opposite of the urge you get from herb
in other words, like another language
one shouldn't have to die without first knowing love and anguish
so i bring both to you in lyrics i sculpted and painted
shared with the sheeple uncut and and untainted

i write a verse, descend from the air and say it
in aramaic - properly prepare the pagans
for the rap space invasion, sacred sayings
preserved in caves in cases
tone tucked away his pain and anguish
in ancient language
step on stage and he'll blaze you with his laser larynx
blazing haze 'til his brain's the clearest
destined for fame, my flare's the rarest
while rap cats chase tiaras
son i'm here to change the game like che guevera
i swear i'm so quick to test a crew
bobby fisher in a world of checkers duke
you've never had no compilations, yes its true
but tony moon is still getting the best of you
the last standing
until the cia claps me in the back while i was lampin like fred hampton
Track Name: Anthem Ferthat
yes, he's back - it's the asthmatic hash addict
one who fell in love wit rap and had to take a stab at it
like oj, smooth as the ojays
"moon's got the mood of the old days" is what the folks say
something like coltrane, but drunk off the propane
my mixtape? nothing but (four/fore)play
like four square when we were four man
spitting it so clear
with syntax compared to voltaire's, yeah
i spit 16 bars like shakespearean sonnets
that blend better with the beat than tangeray wit the tonic
its just the insane way i get on it
but if i hear one more rap about crack or cane i'm gon' vomit
him insane - something in his brain is demonic
how else are you explaining his logic
catch me with the spray paint, train bombing
like MI-5 did in july without blaming islamics

tony moon's the jean toomer of rap
the one man new negro movement is back
spittin written revolutions on tracks
sodium pentathol in his pen is how he keeps nothing but the truth in his raps
i see my people straying fast, and
change to maniacs as a ways to rake the cash in
the government's enslaved the masses
to the point where we take from our brothers' plate to break our fastin
shiny objects is where our brains are fastened
the media portrays me as an ape and savage
an ex-slave saw shackles and faints to blackness
now thats what the fuck i call a chain reaction
all of this is sad to say though
but i can't let this passion lay low
so i'm going against the masses' say so
like an african galileo

to end the track, i blow a cloud in the wind
burn the dutch like a holocaust survivor out for revenge
the combination of my mouth with this pen
will have a fountain of crim-
son blood spouting out of your skin
i've been moving crowds, like the towers did, since
i had ta become a house slave to poison the master
any challenger tryin to spit wit the moon
ends up like the Challenger trying to get to the moon, boom
i come through with two glocks aimed like boondock saints
i suggest you start praying if you not saved
shallow? then the gallows is where you might hang
cause rap's got crackers thinking all we do's cop cane
admit it kid, who's as sick as moon?
you miserable with these niggas who
whore scores, ignoring the true lyrical
so i'm slippin messages in lyrics like spirituals
evidence of ellison's description of invisible
Track Name: Faith
to the people came a savior - touched by the hand of the maker
who spoke truth, demanded a change up
perceived by the man as a danger
his words made me feel like our plasma's the same blood
they crucified him and defaced him, utter debasement
ever since then, its like his blood has been tainted
but still unconditional love is an understatement
cause hip hop, you're the one i put my faith in

i sit to reconcile realities at hand
what's "hypocrisy" i call "duality of man"
i rap to reach the fans
perhaps to get scratch to feed the famm
this is what happens when passion meets a plan
i'm nice verbally - litotes - not hyperbole
try servin me, my flow pop your vertebrae
moon - trust you will have heard of me soon
when wack emcees start turning up in emergency rooms
the fervor was fueled amidst mason dixon
racist confederate flag wavin bitches
made it out faith untwisted
those who can't face the fact fake with fiction
it makes me sick when pigs make us victims
it makes me wanna decorate the fuckin pave with chit'lins
i suffer the same afflictions a salem witches
when i speak the turth you get confused between insane and gifted
Track Name: Creepshow feat. Pete Sake
moon's a monster, ripping through crews - just ask
i got the scooby doo crew confused when they can't remove the mask
do the math, who's creeping through the grass with an ax
stalking out the wack and the trash?
mr. moon. the next victim hit the booth
he's got diamonds in his tooths and not spittin the truth
i broke in, got in it smooth killed the engineer
he got chopped for choppin and screwin - i'm not in the mood
cut the power, it got dark in the room
without photographers, dude rhymin musta lied to look cool
cause it wasn't a glock that he pulled, he tried to escape
but his fake chains got in the way - i watched him fall on his face
i displaced the mic machete from the case on my waist
another disgrace is erased
blood and brains painted the place in the chase
cause i kill for this game like jason for his lake, get it straight

not just emcees, we murder mi(c/ke)s
burn 'em like we want a new pepsi commercial like
we heard that life is much more than the absurd and trite
the murder life's got us lurkin in the murky night
Track Name: Struggle to Suffer feat. ??? and Mike-C
because of reagan, my cousin
get thrown into prison cause the dope's in his system
for whites its a "disease" while we gettin 16
free labor as slavework for pay dirt and quick cream
and its sickening, so i smoke more blacks than white cops
y'all don't see it's deep like a cyclops
my pop's other son's my brother - i didn't get to know him
and now he's got a younger one, a son, and he doesn't get to know him
thats why they call this cycle vicious, but it's not important
compared to my man b. blanco's rhyme flow
which seemed ta mock his leukemia
you could see it up in his eyes before he died yo
that was on my mind yo, along wit a high dose
of hydro, hennesey, and hypno, when i drove
my car into the other car's side door
the cop said the doc said the other kid might live and he might go
Track Name: Twitchin'
you can catch me in the dark with a square and a high life
wondering what a ray charles heroin high's like
was told straighten up, fly right
but still remember a couple times i prayed to survive nights
but i'm right here, and its clearer than hindsight
my words possess your body, its azazel when i write
maybe thats why i feel out of place like i'm fly guy
surrounded by slaves to the lime light
rhyme's a battle field littered with fallen authors
corpses adorn warpaths, of lost and conquered
warriors. by thoughts, i'm haunted
undaunting displays like beatrix breaking paula's coffin
so i blow a cloud like the opposite of cunnilingus on a cumulonimbus
jesus as my witness, misconstruing the business'll get two in your midriff

twitchin - that's how i get when
when the restlessness kicks in
twitchin - that's how i feel
just itchin, waitin while these vets is slippin

twitchin - i vent the friction
with pens and diction
twitichin - and when i spit it
my lyrics leave you twitchin like nicotine addictions

so i spit like a slave in the face of his master
no way you could capture the wave of this rapture
more words than a tv display with the caption
who else maniputlates language as accurate?
blacker than weed resin - from where crackers have seisure fits
as soon as blacks with cash'll start creepin in
maybe its the tetrahydrocannabinol, but i feel like the invisible man with a cause
cause my shit's deep - listen and join in
i want y'all to feel what i feel like we're all conjoined twins
after a sip of the poison, your boy's in
flow mode with lines that get in minds like freud did
cause right now i see a culture that's exploited
and i'm here to help my people avoid it
so here's a ticket to hell for ya
i got more bars in more places call me cingular cellular

mr. moon - before i sign off - let me make a couple more lines with my mind's thoughts
deeper than mein kampf
i'll leave you leaking, sleep in an iron horse like vincent
i guess your battling collateral was insufficient
admit it, tone's flow's so electric
one touch'll leave your afro like cornell west's
the stresses and pressures is niente, nada
gotta do this shit to lift my kin from squaller
and it makes me pimp the system harder
but not getting pimped by the system's harder
so i live with this problem
it ain't that bad though cause i fuck wit the cash flow
blacks here are as about as american as castro
and i know its not just me who wanna take it back, yo
not back like platforms, but back like what blacks own
or should - since we built it up on our backbones
Track Name: Build Up Babylon
moon - livid as a bitch - sick of sittin back
why can't y'all see the music system exists to cripple blacks?
its a fact - just listen to the niggas rap
every bar on every track's bitches, gats, or pitchin crack
but it's actually white executives in positions at
labels who say who's the nigger to get some scratch
deliberate decisions perpetuate the stigmas that
reinforce ignorance in crackers that cop the shit from racks
so i'm gonna bring it back
back to underground resistance tactics training in basements like '60s blacks
this kid who grew up where auschwitz is at
can't grasp how every crack house is a krakow
where cops don't just pat down, they blast rounds
its a holocaust and all's lost playing the background
if y'all can't spit the poetry and see that it's supposed to be different
guess i gotta get in where i fit in

build up babylon - this ain't no new shit
build up babylon - did the same wit the jewish
build up babylon - who cares what the truth is?
no need for movements - do what your doin

build up babylon - your hammer and chisel
build up babylon - is the crack and the pistols
build up babylon - isn't it easy?
kick up you feet and turn on the tv

the truth that i deliver's only a sliver
they kill ya if you go against the flow of the river 'n thrown in you chisel
the globe is a prison, open the prism, let the light soak in your vision
the only hope for this system's no more religion
and diluted media and knowing all the people are
the same depsite spech, creed, or fuckin street you from
so at tony's funeral, they wanna know who showed the truth to you
i is the 1 like roman numerals
fuck christianity, not jesus and
fuck islam but not the muslims
fuck judaism but not the jewish
it's all based off of the druids
fuck christianity, not jesus and
fuck islam but not the muslims
fuck judaism but not the jewish
we're really all the same human

build up babylon - this ain't no new shit
build up babylon - did the same wit the jewish
build up babylon - who cares what the truth is?
no need for movements - do what your doin

build up babylon - your hammer and chisel
build up babylon - is the crack and the pistols
build up babylon - isn't it easy?
kick up you feet and turn on the tv

i'm just like y'all, building it up, brick by brick
stitch by stitch - infants implanted with chips
shit, they even fingerprint the innocent
to keep us locked up in this shit
radar cameras clipped on blimps
see it all, shit they see through walls now, we ain't slick with tints
then they wonder why this kid's incensed,
intense, and militant on these instruments
half huey/half hippie
rap like the apparition of nat turner's up in the lab wit me
pillage villages and thrash cities
revolt and get the downtrodden masses to stand with me
from a town where cops the ones who clap quickly
and you gotta watch you ass around them cats that act shifty
we all desperate for more like desdamona in that tragedy
but i see the barrells of crabs tipping

build up babylon - this ain't no new shit
build up babylon - did the same wit the jewish
build up babylon - who cares what the truth is?
no need for movements - do what your doin

build up babylon - your hammer and chisel
build up babylon - is the crack and the pistols
build up babylon - isn't it easy?
kick up you feet and turn on the tv
Track Name: On Top feat. Pete Sake and Mike-C
moon, the schitzo kid wit the sick flow
each persona rip shows just like he r.i.p. old
homies six whole feet low wit a headstone
by pouring out his sips yo, right where his kicks go
COINTELPRO ain't gettin me, hell no
though they sent malcolm, king, and kennedy shells yo
well known no where, but causin a swell so
ain't know sellin out like i'm the host of chappelle's show
mello(w), but don't rock the blue and the yellow
blame it on the shots of the vodka and jell-o
plus the herb that we blaze, the furthest from sane
ever since i first murdered refrains, you've heard of the name
"mr. moon", if you ain't heard it, then hey
welcome to the reveal of the masquerading and charades
assassination of the fake
and the match that's finna set this fascist ass nation ablaze
Track Name: The Day After Tomorrow feat. Pete Sake and Mike-C
follow it, 12-21-12, just like the prophets said
apocalypse had popped off, so many are gone and dead
caught some off guard, some called it like the mayans did
but i ain't see christ, white lights, or horsemen riding in
actually it was much to ill to describe
so just for the sake of time let's say we fought for higher consciousness
the dominant purchasin prominence
tarnishin the artistry? they were now exposed for all the farce in it
to the coffin went the fm dial
execs and power structured toppled like the berlin wall
urban squaller sparked a new renaissance
in parks is where the darts now determined heart
it's like a gift has been given - light a spliff if you wit a
world where a real emcee is now the new religion
the paradigm has shifted and the illness has risen
sake, c, and tone - the future - turn it up if you wit it. dig it.
Track Name: Deja Vu
the prison industrial complex is just a new auschwitz
if you ask me, and it fucks up my conscious
so catch moon puffin a long spliff
thinking the world ain't change much since the beast got it's clutches upon it
for instance
post-9/11's post-reconstruction - we still fuckin wit lynchins - up in our districts
and minstrels are still integral to the way the media can fuck up an image
and muslim americans grouped in as terrorists
is just a new red scare like "boo, where's your period?
phew shit, girl, there it is"
and all of their lies are thinly disguised due to their arogance
hidden in plain site, cause them two towers that was hit by them planes's like
hitler setting his reichstag building aflame, trying
to blame poland, aiding his campaign to invade. why
are we tricked by the same lies?

its deja vu
let's rewind and review
deja vu, haven't i seen you
in a past life?

cause it seems to me
everything seems to be
recycling and repeating
from a past life

where the blunt smoke hangs in the air
i see the face of a hung slave in despair - blood smeared in his tears
told my heart to be as fearless as his
then i realized that the breath i'm breathin is his
the weed in the spliff takes me back to egypt with glyphs
i must've been a scribe - i see papyrus and a reed where i sit
it explains why i'm a visual learner
and why i lean to the pen - not the burner
i journey through the firmament a little bit further - see another past life
must've been a feudal serf, viewing earth through sad eyes
that's why i'm anti-establishment and chastise
injustices like "fuck the pigs" - they itch to take a black life
this weed is pungent and wet, i feel it in my lungs with each breath
saw myself as a young monk in tibet
self immolatin - hatred's under protest
and just then the weed smoke stunk of my flesh
each life ends abruptly with death
i guess i'll catch you in the next one son, because i'm done with the sess
each life ends abruptly with death
i guess i'll catch you in the next one son, because i'm done with the sess

its deja vu
let's rewind and review
deja vu, haven't i seen you
in a past life?

cause it seems to me
everything seems to be
recycling and repeating
from a past life

we a scarred nation
upon reincarnation, know spirits is swimming through us all
fuck the matrix
and disregard hatred as we spiritually evolve
we a scarred nation
upon reincarnation, know spirits is swimming through us all
fuck the matrix
and disregard hatred as we spiritually evolve

its deja vu
let's rewind and review
deja vu, haven't i seen you
in a past life?

cause it seems to me
everything seems to be
recycling and repeating
from a past life
Track Name: Drunken Bonus Verse
so let's burn the vatican down by setting fire to the pope's catholic gown
burn turin, and wipe my ass with the shroud
make every mosque crash to the ground
turn every jewish temple into shrapnel and clouds
its the only way out - pow - thats one from the heater ta
everyone involved with the media
i keep it up, until the people buck - no story, its a fact
i blur the line between poetry and rap
identify exposure to their trap, i got your back
i'm trying to smoke weed and stat, buy a sack
orion's mapped astrologically to the pyramids in giza b
but still constantly they lie to me
so i keep the burner on the side of me
to burn bush like god, moses, and the fire tree
fire trees up - let's get higher b, vibe wit me
and we can steal music back - call it piracy