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Asphalt For Eden

Dälek Asphalt For Eden

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  • Label: Profound Lore Records/deadverse recordings
  • Release: 22 Apr, 2016

Dälek ‘Asphalt for Eden’

  • Shattered

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    • Lyrics

      1.
      It's never quite right is it?
      Endless rigors delivered by hair-triggers Prepared figures and a hollow point speech Won't follow, don't preach
      Wrote each syllable to be deciphered beneath
      Chorus:
      Agreed aesthetic is embedded so I'll shatter that
      Impaired vision like the world's got cataracts
      Endured attacks on all fronts, now we pushing back
      Aligned thoughts to outflank how they counteract.
      2.
      About the verbs over nouns
      Actions over states
      Struggle over hope
      Just to quote brother Coates
      Mind-scape provoked as we rewrote the scope Hit divine notes
      Kept the dialogue dope.
      Chorus:
      Agreed aesthetic is embedded so I'll shatter that
      Impaired vision like the world's got cataracts
      Endured attacks on all fronts, now we pushing back
      Aligned thoughts to outflank how they counteract.
      3.
      Grasp at straws refuse to withdraw
      What some deem offensive
      I'm never repenting
      Your objectives ain't like mine
      Each act perhaps is a slight crime
      Willing to lay down life just to write rhymes
      I bide my time observing details most overlook I'm that leather bound 1st edition older book. I'm that Raw before it's stepped on and cooked I'm that pawn and rook endgame
      60 moves to wag my finger like Dikembe.
      You can call me Mr. Brooks
      You already know my pen-name.
      Chorus:
      Agreed aesthetic is embedded so I'll shatter that
      Impaired vision like the world's got cataracts
      Endured attacks on all fronts, now we pushing back
      Aligned thoughts to outflank how they counteract.

  • Guaranteed Struggle

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    • Lyrics

      Chorus:
      Victory is rare, what's guaranteed is the struggle
      Attempt to stay humble
      We vent to stave hunger.
      1.
      Sacred symmetry
      Vision stay doubled off 'Key...
      Vernacular of actual MC
      No sense in repenting humanity's last gasps
      They clasp at material
      Can't grasp my material
      Infectious thought patterns define what's surreal
      Flesh reconstructed but the essence never healed Hovered over self...
      Self inflicted cap-peel
      This type unpolished ending always lacked mass appeal Wait
      Rate of accession correlates with how you kneel? Innocence is spilt but we just watch it congeal Falsehoods revealed just like truths...
      Without proof it's just words we dilute
      Dictated scripture still the breath of man's corrupt picture Spoils go to the victor so your history is rancid
      Peep they reaction when you mention Black Panthers Outrage is standard
      Action's at a minimum
      They might have the podium
      But lack the curriculum.
      Chorus:
      Victory is rare, what's guaranteed is the struggle
      Attempt to stay humble
      We vent to stave hunger.
      2.
      These right here are tactile verses Open hand slap persons
      Full immersion,
      Certified word surgeon
      Same lyricist just an updated version Understated skills that's for certain Older now, I'm nice off straight bourbon Immune to fake sermons
      Your prophets straight serpents
      Dälek ain't built for worship
      This amount of knowledge make their program nervous
      Delete that shit on purpose
      Cognitive thought, no rehearsing
      They don't teach this style, call me cursive
      I'm cursed with perception of our ancients in a time with little patience
      Opposition's tiny minded brittle faces, chasing, plasticine dreams seen on 4K flat screens Slow pace won't attract them crack fiends
      Only built for hero-een
      A hero when I'm gone
      While I'm here a mere pawn in this chess match
      Calm when I'm stressed Black.
      Take your time digest that!
      Chorus:
      Victory is rare, what's guaranteed is the struggle
      Attempt to stay humble
      We vent to stave hunger.

  • Masked Laughter (Nothing's Left)

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    • Lyrics

      1.
      I Spit cryptic, never a mystic,
      barely uplifting.
      I'll outlive most my critics
      Expect for self which leaves me livid.
      What's yet unspoken gives hope to those who've lived it. I've shouldered burdens
      still yearning
      For that dawn I ain't the cynic.
      Best these words get printed in disposable age we're in. Darker days ahead wit weight we laboring.
      Conviction never wavering.
      Meant. each .uttered .word.
      Can only hope I get to spit these gutter proverbs.
      We kept it real when this whole world turned plastic.
      Yall really thought you didn't need this brown bastard? Every cut on blood diamonds makes Facets
      Refract a light upon the face of bad actors.
      I'm trying to help but yall got this ass backwards.
      Hard to smile with all the tears that Mask laughter
      Chorus:
      Don't my breath deserve respect?
      Wit all this poison we ingest.
      Yall keep saying its a test...
      What's to win when nothing's left?
      2.
      Frustration fails to veil anger
      Done wit petty banter..
      Benign lies confused for truth
      tactics 'ready standard.
      Which the Better odds?
      Scratch off cards or wearing handcuffs?
      Bankers Left us bankrupt.
      Our future Held for Ransom.
      I don't need a fucking Anthem!
      I need change! Not that shit that jingle but them laws scribed to page. Y'all ever wonder why the fuck I'm enraged?
      I ain't trying to bring a son to this stage!
      I'm trying to breathe!
      I'm trying to breathe!
      I'm trying to breathe!
      I'm trying to breathe!
      I'm trying to breathe!
      I'm trying to breathe! Muthafukas let us breathe!
      Chorus:
      Don't our breath deserve respect?
      Wit all this poison we ingest.
      Y'all keep saying its a test...
      But, What's to win when nothing's left?

  • Critical

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    • Lyrics

      1.
      With Confident steps outpace these prominent men.
      Back to familiar frontiers ...it started again.
      2015: I still script wit pen.
      Vision stay clear what's a skewed is life's lens.
      Always been true fuck all these false trends.
      Never gripped mics to make friends.
      Verses offend when so-called listeners don't listen.
      Intrinsic word pattern by nature remains hidden.
      Who am I kidding? 5% remain digging.
      Dusty crates create blueprint for best living.
      I'm chilling!
      The very breath between verbs speaks volumes on our person. Deliberate with speech,
      Haven't even scratched the surface.
      These sounds require complete immersion.
      can sense that most be uncertain.
      situation bound to worsens before
      we ever see that daylight.
      Let's start with small steps for starters: get my name right? Dialect muthafucka.
      Chorus:
      Nothing is literal
      We breathe the subliminal Deadverse: critical Dissect every syllable Essence is lyrical
      These sonics is physical
      2.
      Abstract aspect to each movement towards progress. Mass media only feeding you nonsense.
      Take time to ponder change is the one constant. Though I had a grasp but I lost it.
      Concepts fostered forged from same steel as will. Material stay pongent, reality's unreal.
      A thousand TVs shine light and crush vision.
      Vocal chords used for most my transmissions. Unspoken hymns get sent through tough rhythms. Resist the urge speak muthafucka just listen.
      Amount of breath ain't finite
      the reason I rhyme right.
      Never need to step in the limelight.
      Beyond 20/20 with this 3rd Eyesight.
      In hindsight all history's rewritten. Magnification of ink reveal blood of all victims! Let THAT shit sink in!
      Chorus:
      Nothing is literal
      We breathe the subliminal Deadverse: critical
      Dissect every syllable Essence is lyrical
      These sonics is physical....

  • 6dB

  • Control

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    • Lyrics

      1.
      Forged, Stainless thoughts from an iron will
      Refuse to kneel
      Shielded eyes missed core of truths revealed
      Flesh won't heal when attacks are medulla
      10% of currency is real, rest only exists on computers
      None truer than this kid of concrete
      Reinterpretation of beats : Clapped hands and stomped feet Need examples of what NOT to do? Watch me!
      Christians swear they love life,
      No comprehension of what Ankhs mean
      Find basic tenants of breath shocking
      Breathe deep muthafukas
      We just talking.
      2.
      Unsteady hands plot the course of existence.
      Recalibrate to face the path of most resistance.
      Don't expect an ounce of forgiveness
      The force this exerts is enough to move buildings
      I'd say let's be adults, but on the real we all children
      Hidden gems mongst words don't make them shit's wisdom Withstood attacks of an uncivil system
      Long enough to witness
      Minute shiftings
      Hard to describe this design as uplifting
      But then again I'm hard to describe
      A desolate existence I'm forced to survive
      Mathematics dictate when these thoughts realign
      The sublime beauty between the wretched is what I cherish A fat muthafuka from a culture that's malnourished
      Could give a fuck what we're told that the meek will inherit.
      (I don't need your crumbs. Keep your scraps
      All that
      I don't need none of that)
      3.
      What's been said has misled masses
      Huddled shoulder baring weight of an uprooted truth Recouped on ever ounce of pain I ever dealt
      Lack of wealth overcome with a knowledge of self Wiser eyes devise a mirage of sorts
      Take life's punches in a barrage of course
      Was born to a new era
      Where goodfellas copped dollar newports Drown sorrows brown bottle brew quarts Sight distorts yet aligns inner rhythm Fought tooth and nail
      Nothing's ever given
      Given more of self than there was self to give
      Frequency for breath cause these sounds will outlive 5'6" Honduran, I've stated my stature
      Scrolls in nap sacks but I ain't no backpacker
      Saturated market where we ain't the main factor
      I don't spit verses, I ink chapters.
      Never one to claim to have answers
      Social constructs must shatter
      They ain't concerned with the now just the after
      Got nerve to ask why we state it's Black lives that matter.
      Chorus:
      Controlled Thought
      Controlled Breath
      Controlled Art
      Controlled Sex
      Controlled Mind
      Produce Less
      Produce Crime
      We Need Strength.

  • It Just Is

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    • Lyrics

      1.
      Never the optimist
      I opt to walk wit fist clenched
      Devilish ideas permeate room like burnt incense
      At 4 decks some might consider a career finished
      'Nuff frustration in these veins for infinite writtens... I'm just beginning this path has always felt more of a mission
      Misguided adults pretendin' to have answers for seeds on the real B, they shittin'
      Only lesson I've learnt?
      Nobody listens
      And that's a shame considering caliber content already witnessed
      Taste forever shifting as existence is subjective
      Most will miss the message
      But it's there in every sentence
      Hope to raise a generation of questions
      A full brigade of dissension
      Expect to endure lifetimes of tensions
      My heroes are barely mentioned
      And perhaps obscurity is where I'm destined
      But while I'm here I continue to speak in absence of fear formulating ideas indifferent to social norms
      Willing to explore more
      Consider yourselves warned!
      Chorus:
      It ain't gonna be alright
      We ain't gonna win
      There ain't no happy ends
      There just is.
      2.
      What we have is the haves and the havenots
      The beefs and the gunshots
      The good and the bad thoughts
      What brought us here to hear has been drowned out by a cacophony of fear... What's stopping WE IS fear
      Left with a million I's helplessly watching
      Denying our subconscious
      Fuck sparring we born boxing
      This toxic levels of discourse
      Leaves us with no recourse
      We forced to those shadows that whisper our names
      Perhaps we are all the same
      But somehow it seems some are just seedier
      Systematic lack of compassion towards the needier
      We are so enamored with that illusion of freedom
      Mistook that asphalt for Eden
      Odds are even that we all leave not breathing Without an ounce of true meaning
      Once we gone ain't nobody grieving
      Sunrise - Sunset
      Change seasons
      Just cause
      No Rhyme
      No Reasons

All songs written & produced by: Dälek (Will Brooks) for Mayan Ruins Music (SESAC) and Mike Manteca for Mike Mare (BMI)

All Cuts by DJ rEk (Rudy Chicata)

Musical Guru & Keys on ‘Control’: Joshua Booth Additional Bass on ‘Control’ & ‘It Just Is’: Jeremy Winter Backing Vocals on ‘Shattered’: Dev-One (Carlos Dorticos)

Recorded & Mixed by
Will Brooks and Mike Mare at Deadverse Studios III, Union City, NJ.

Additional Mixing by
Jesse Cannon
at Cannon Found Soundation, Union City, NJ

Mastered by
Alan Douches
at West Westside Music, New Windsor, NY

Art & design by Paul Romano www.workhardened.com

“Asphalt For Eden” Tag by Marko Burbano

Respect to all who support

www.profoundlorerecords.com www.deadverse.com

©2016
Profound Lore Records Deadverse Recordings

All Rights Reserved