Tales From The Mix Tape vol​​.​​2

by Kabal

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about

TALES FROM THE MIXTAPE VOLUME # 2

A rare collection of remixes, collabos, and b-sides
that never found a place on any release.

All music recorded, sampled, arranged,
mixed & mastered by KABAL (K.Theodoropolus)
except where noted in the song information.
All lyrics written by KABAL (K.Theodoropolus)
Recorded at Necropolis Studios (c) Midian Music 2013-2015
Cover art by: Mike Mignola/Kabal

credits

released May 4, 2015

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Kabal Brampton, Ontario

Oldschool hardcore underground producer/rapper from Brampton Ontario Canada.

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Track Name: Intro (It's the...)
It's The Return Of The Living Dead, the one who's blood red,
the one who fucks your head the one who's never packed lead/
I'm the mind destroyer, self-employer,
Mr.Never do a bid again and get a free lawyer/
the oldschool four tracker / commodore 64 hacker,
beat jacker, cracker sniffing lacquer/
The wake & baker, the mule & 40 acres
The fucking woman maker that disposes of the fakers
the rude awakener, the modified neck breaker/
evil undertaker, typhoon & earthquaker/
The natural disaster, the hurricane Theo,
the ones that makes you tap or else I pin you for the Three-o/
The chosen one the man with all the stroke around here,
who never pays the cover, or has to buy a beer/
The human horror flick, the walking wrestling almanac,
the human pin cushion who put a needle in his nutsac/
the one who never smoked crack, or poked smack, or wrote wack,
the one who brought flow back, and showed you wack kids rap/
The blackest on the inside, the weirdest on the oustide,
the anarchistic-antichrist, the reason why the pope died.../
Track Name: Sam Peckerwood
Yo... It's time to murder, all these kids you never ever heard of,
Think you got prime cuts, but you're low grade hamburger/
I be the purger of the wack MC'S,
because your tracks diseased, So I attacks with ease/
You couldn't rap like these, cus back in 1983'
I was breakin beat street & pop-locking concrete/
Word grappling at 14, and scratching on technics,
& Graffing the dark streets & mastering hard beats/
& Crafting my artistry, embracing the elements,
Never bring negligence, to these hip hop testaments/
I'll drop bombs until I'm old and Grey and boring,
Cus "Legends Never Die" they just get tired of the touring/ (but)
I ain't as vain as the masses, claiming legendary status,
But I was battling cats while you was hanging on the playground apparatus/
Now Let me show you who's the baddest,
On the sabbath my savage calloused tongue will wet you like a baptist/
Decapitate with one quick swift delivery,
I'll send your dome to your girl back home because I'm all about the chivalry/
And the vivid dark imagery,
Abysmal as the industry's dismal ill history/
I've witnessed since inception, in the decadence as kept,
One of the first white boys wrecking toys before the precedence was set/
In 89' while I was hawking gold chains,
& Punching lines like I was Mike Tyson boxing cocaine/
I'm a vet of the game, even though nobody knows my name,
Lyrics keep flowing and flowing and flowing just the same/
Making drum tracks before you back stroked in your daddy's nut sack,
The best part of your act ran down your mamas ass crack/
And that's the cold hard facts,
I hate to break it to you, but this old hearts black/
You rolled the dice on the mic but yo you're nothing but a crap show,
So you sit and study "Definition Of A Rap Flow"/
The video, the audio, and you still don't know,
How to bless a mic with the Midas touch and turn it to gold/
(Just like the pros)
Track Name: Sick of it all
(Chorus)X4
Yes yes y'all,
Well I'm sick of it all,
I said I'm sick of it all,
I said I'm sick of it all/

(Verse)[HOT24]
Broken glass everywhere,
Suckers can't make a penny than they just don't care/
I know it's all about the love but you gotta be dedicated,
No heart then you straight up perpetrated/
Hip hop break it down in 3's, 1 is graffitiing,
2 is breakdancing, & 3 is MCing/
I got the talent and the art but can't afford,
40 cans of spray paint, in 84 I broke the cardboard/
Now my hardcore is from the vocal chord,
I'm too sore to bust a windmill but still my shits.../
Realer than yours, better pay closer attention,
Sick of Government and all the intervention/
Sick of over played videos, over payed music hoes,
Selling their souls like N.W.O./
The way they played out Tupac & Biggie was wack,
Sick of still not getting credit cus my skin ain't black/
Sick of hacks with their likes & their tweets on social media,
Sick of the fact I got deleted from Wikipedia/
Sick of clubs, sick of Grey Goose & Cristal,
Meanwhile you still haven't noticed that my style/
Is more versatile, than the bile on your radio dial,
Sick of beats that make me wanna fall asleep/
The gun talk is weak cus I never even owned one,
Bullets can't speak or even hold a microphone son/
Blunts & Kush redundant mush and I can bet,
I blazed thousands of jays before you even seen a cigarette/
Sick of drug dealer gangster mentalities,
You all portray it but it ain't your reality/
A 9-5 salary can drive you to insanity,
I'm sick of not workin, sick of worrying my family/
& signing a lease, every 52 weeks,
Sick of thinking I should buy a place that's 6 feet deep/
Play some Russian Roulette, or pull a Romeo & Juliet,
Sick of living worse & like I haven't seen my days yet/
Sick of scraping, while you bathing in luxury,
Sick of waiting for friends to win the lottery/
Always bothers me looking at the ignorance,
Sometimes it bothers me the Piggys got my fingerprints/
We lost the innocence, I'm sick of negligence,
Dead kids, dead pups, I'm sick of wanna be grown ups/
Who fucking need to put up or shut up,
Sick of seeing starving humans when a movies making 30 something/
Million in a weekend, we're going off the deep end,
Sick of Kanye, Kim K, and all the pretend/
False idols, that you sheep are all worshipping,
Sick of burdening and sick of all the worsening/
Sick of being sick, picking bricks to make a wall,
20 years done passed and still I'm sick of it all/

(Chorus)X4
Yes yes y'all,
Well I'm sick of it all,
I said I'm sick of it all,
I said I'm sick of it all/
Track Name: The Wigga ya Love to Hate
I heard payback's a motherfuckin bitch,
That's why I'm coming out wide on the right side/
You dumb chumps getting sacked & punked,
You get dumped on from the mackin-est of dunks son/
Dropping bombs that you all hate, Rape your name in my game you're too bitch to retaliate/
They wanna keep me from coming up,
locked down in the underground with sounds that I'm drumming up/
So what ya do? Ban me from your message forum, your site sucked ass its redundant & boring/
So you try to run my name through the mud now,
Attack of the bald heads when I'm rolling with my hood down/
Cus' i don't puss-out from you, him, or no man,
Fuckin up your day with the shit that I program/
When I'm rapping lets see who hate,
The net nerds, the hipsters and the cooze I choose to date/
And motherfuckers that say i act black,
You couldn't find a fact if it slapped your face jack/
I never ever played the stereo type,
But keep coming with the shit to keep your stereo in ontario hype/
Watch my back cus' they're always in attack mode,
Why more honkeys in power than black folk?/
Now because of that line I might be your cellmate,
That's from the wigga ya love to hate/

FUCK YOU K-BALLS!
Yeah, ha-ha,
it's the wigga you love to hate!
FUCK YOU K-BALLS!
Ay yo what up punk?
It's the wigga you love to hate!

Once again it's on, theokoles, the albino,
Kabal the bitch stealer, cops dealer/
Yo! runnin through your yayo like Snow,
All the blow your sniffing, I put my kicks in/
& dimwits be like "fuck you Cable",
Punch lines cus I'm mad at the coke on the table/
I don't ski so you're scheming for my fall off, snorting that crap might as well cut ya balls off/
Cus your shits gonna shrivel up to nothing,
And the bitches will be like "that's a cute belly button"/
I'm too cunning while you're coming off slow,
You're hate-monging while I take it to the hole/
Cutting you running up on my fast-break, like any Tom, Dick, and Hank and get that ass shanked/
It ain't about making it, by faking hits,
& selling out your race and shit/
You ask me do i like new hip hop?
About as much as no pot in my ziplock/
I don't give two shits who's up in the news,
Cus I'm stilllllll stuck in the old school/
I don't play, portray, or put on a fake act,
Ain't never packed no fucking gat/
So step up and get slapped in the face with your fate,
(Straight up)
from the wigga ya love to hate/
Track Name: K.B.D.(K-Balls Deep) f. NEMO
(verse 1)
You never ever heard me coming with some pimp ass smooth shit,
Brand new shit, pwning all the noob kids/
It's how we do, we assemble a crew
Snuff your ass out like I'm playing Left 4 Dead 2/
I got logic like its GTA 5,
Which means you might not make it through the day alive/
Can't see the future cus I'm stuck in the past,
Teaming up with Nemo now we're up in that ass

(Chorus)
All of my homies call me... K-balls
And all the bitches call me... K-balls
If you don't know me I be... K-balls
Even my mama call me... K-balls
I'm getting... K-balls deep in that ass
I said I'm getting... K-balls deep in that ass

(verse 2)
Step to us see your life flash by,
Trying to be a tough guy on xbox live/
But IRL you'd be taking the dive,
And now you're AFK because you couldn't survive/
Bring your mother, your sister, or your fine ass ho,
And see just how deep these balls can go/
Nemo on the hook and we taking y'all beats,
& we're going in dry fucking K-balls deep/

(Chorus)
All of my homies call me... K-balls
And all the bitches call me... K-balls
If you don't know me I be... K-balls
Even my mama call me... K-balls
I'm getting... K-balls deep in that ass
I said I'm getting... K-balls deep in that ass
Track Name: The Diary (Mokbeatz Remix)
(V1.)
Dear diary I'm having alot of problems,
I try writing shit out with the hope that it will solve them/
And it's the only thing that I can really do,
It's kinda like self councilling cus there's no one else to talk to/
Family's there but I don't implore them,
I could talk to my kin but I choose to ignore them/
I think they think that I'm delirious,
And I smoke too much so they never take me serious/
Sometimes I'm feeling like I'm truely slowly loosin' it,
My heads on straight but got some lose screws in it/
I am always thinking too hard and too deep,
To the point where I lie in bed and don't even sleep/
I sit and wonder if it's really worth trying,
We might as well face it we were all born dying/
All I got's my rhyme book in my right hand
And it's the diary of a madman/

(CHORUS)
Since the days I began with this book in my hand,
Had to make a gameplan to invent my own brand/
Nothing boring or bland so I took my stand,
A one man band and the diary of a madman/
I got shit canned never made no grands
Except tatting with my hands or freight getting scanned/
Your attention spans throw them in the trashcan
Cus nobody can stand what's in the diary of a madman/


(V2.)
Dear Diary I put the shit behind me,
I know I'm here somewhere but I can't find me/
Try to be a dad but I'm feelin' like a drug dealer,
On the for reala yer mom thinks that I'm raising a killer/
And that they're ain't no changing me,
It used to be easy but now I'm re-arranging me/
Cus I can't roll up on her boyfriend now,
With brass knuckles to the mouth and beat his fucking brains out/
No doubt responsibilites awaken,
Even though I wanna flow with human nature/
But if you wanna scrap come scrap me
I fucking slap ya like your great grand pappy/
I ain't doing no bids and no time,
Gotta think about the kid so i did it in a rhyme/
But still I can be badder than bad can,
The 2nd entry from the diary of a madman/

(CHORUS)
Since the days I began with this book in my hand,
Had to make a gameplan to invent my own brand/
Nothing boring or bland so I took my stand,
A one man band and the diary of a madman/
I got shit canned never made no grands
Except tatting with my hands or freight getting scanned/
Your attention spans throw them in the trashcan
Cus nobody can stand what's in the diary of a madman/

(V2.)
Dear Diary help me cus I'm frantic,
Sometimes I think I'm going schizophrenic/
I can't talk to my friends for instance,
I feel like they're always off in the distance/
Then again I wear a blindfold,
staring at the world even though i got my eyes closed/
To myself I'm a stranger,
And the older I get I feel closer to danger/
But still got a long path ahead of me,
I Gotta get somewhere cus here everyone's scared of me/
And I ain't praying for forgiveness,
And I ain't looking for pity cus I can handle my business/
Used to write for fun although I write for me,
I used to write from the heart but now I'm writing from my (in)sanity/
I had a spouse but she fired me,
My wife walked off now I'm living in my diary/
Track Name: G0 H4RD - Tank DIGGS f. Kabal
(Verse 3)[Kabal]

Go Hard

Go hard, or go home,
Fast forward , slow mo,
I don't need to thank god cus I got Tank Dawg,
& I'll spank this song for the promo/
Flow hard, but never ever going full...
Retard, I'm just spitting hot fire leave your...
Seat charred, ripping through concrete,
Ya get beat with a piece of the rebarb/
I play hard, beat punch muthafuckas I'ma...
Take part, see a bunch of blood suckers and I...
Stake hearts, and break hearts,
No debate I don't create no fake arts/
Just come real, always roll ghetto with the...
Slum feel, always so metal when I...
Thumb steel, I'm concealed,
I dont need a dumb deal just a drum reel/
I'm always coming with the shit to make you think though,
Hit you with everything even the kitchen sink yo/
Blast a master faster than you can even blink so,
Just pass the grass and get harassed over the stink dro/
My man Julio hooking up the beat bro,
You stand foolishly looking up in defeat bro/
The radio, don't play theo, I remain cold and stay gold,
Like a tornado or a volcano blowing up and erupting when I say GO!/
Track Name: Special Ladies (Cage cover)
[Verse 1]
I seen her walking a dog, rocking a cane and shades
Kicking bullshit at her like "I ain't these other lames"
Could of had a gun to my head she wouldn't of gave a fuck
Bitches in T.O. Give a fuck? My mouth strained
Rearranged the frame, I'm balking her with fat lies
Walked right past me like "Nah, not into black guys"
Huh? Took a double take, she got a reign on a white dog
Shaking her fucking head around ain't even carrying an iPod
I stepped to the right, she kept looking straight I thought
"this bitch is blind as fuck" and stuck my middle fingers in her face
Don't take a rocket scientist to figure out whats next
You with a bitch with no vision? Camcording some sex
Ask Sears security they ain't got shit on my surveillance
Burning DVDs and send the disc to her parents
Live web feed backing hard drives too,
I know you can't see me but all eyes is on you

[Chorus]
At kabal.webstarts.com
Hop in the mind of madness
And get shit out on the 401
With 600 and 66 Ferraris
420 Bugattis & 5000 Audis

[Verse 2]
What's the best part of Toronto? Blend in with the criminals
Walking down Yonge street, caught tits in my peripheral
Insecure girl, pigtails tied with lace twine
Cleavage to her Adam's apple, nipples at her waist line
I got a toonie, ain't making dinner out of fries
If I can crash this bitch's pad I can feast & spread her thighs
I said "Hi" that was all it took to seal the deal,
She threw me over her shoulder & headed home but stopped for happy meals
Mouth full of nip on her table unable to bend her
After a Passover meal and it's fucking September
Drop the Ben & Jerry's I'm buried in titty weight
"Go down on me" what are you kidding I already ate
She put me in a triangle choke and cinched it in firm
Made me French kiss her giant clam and her pink pearl
"Lick it" it's like I'm missing in Hong Kong
With my fuckin Airwalks sticking out Godzilla's thong

[Chorus]
At kabal.webstarts.com
Hop in the mind of madness
And get shit out on the 401
With 600 and 66 Ferraris
420 Bugattis & 5000 Audis

[Verse 3]
I used to talk to this chick but never got to the purpose
Cus she worked 72 hours a week in customer service
For underprivileged kids, down at Bowen & Briggs
The most I got from her was an under the table hummer after supper
Went to meet her for some rounds at the Kingdom
But ran into a Kim K look-a-like with Down's syndrome
Awwwww, I know it's a little fucked up
But I wasn't passing up stuffing muscle in that bubble butt
Look, y'all can talk all the shit y'all want
But even Kanye would run up in this cunt for a month
Her mind-states like she's on E & L indefinitely
My boys seen me with her & told me to seek help professionally
"Theo, make love to me"
Canada flag over the face, cus I do it for my country
She seizures and dies, I find a sleeping bag to hide her
I bust a nut and jet, but left the Jimmy hat inside her

[Chorus]
At kabal.webstarts.com
Hop in the mind of madness
And get shit out on the 401
With 600 and 66 Ferraris
420 Bugattis & 5000 Audis
Track Name: The Man They Could Not Hang - produced by Prince Pauly
(Yo Paully I see they got the ropes ready for us again...shit...Yo let's do this thing!)

(V.1)
I'm back on the scene with the hot sixteens,
Maximum Overdrive in machines like Christine/
Ripped spleen, drove over your heart,
Change your name to Napoleon Bones-a-Part/
It's not Mozart, but were always coming with the classics,
We get drastic like sniffing hits of acid/
Leave you in a haze that'll stumble for days,
Clubs, kegs, titties now it's rubber leg city/
You see me saunter like Frankenstein's monster,
Paul made the call so I'll conjure the slaughter/
One crass man, with one master plan,
To exact revenge, and attack avenged/
Blow em' back unhinged, tear the roof off,
Knocking doors down, clocking more clowns, rocking more nouns/
Than Dr.Seuss getting loose with Mother Goose,
A man you can't hang so you grab another noose/

(Chorus)
Come one, come all,
and witness the downfall,
of a so-called scoundrel/
The council, the, handout, the Gallow is tall,
The man they couldn't hang No Neck Prince Paul/

(V.2)
Diabolic, a psycho's logic,
Death Angel, through the park I frolic/
The topic of your stereo, hawking gold chains,
Punch lines like Mike Tyson boxing cocaine/
I rip the main frame, and trip insane minds,
Infect the lame brained with sick profane rhymes/
They wanna execute the excellence of execution,
Persecuted, prosecuted, then it's restitution/
Every time they hang me my neck snaps hard,
But Paully keeps bringing me back, back from the dead,
like I was Dr.Saavard/
This ain't the Last Illusion,
Resurrected with the vast confusion/
Black contusions, from old long nooses,
My future don't hold forgone conclusions/
Hangman's clinch, rope passionately pinching,
Hit me with another good old fashioned lynching/

(Chorus)
Come one, come all,
and witness the downfall,
of a so-called scoundrel/
The council, the, handout, the Gallow is tall,
The man they couldn't hang but you can call me Kabal/

(Epilogue)
An angry mob, as Hell's Bells toll,
The slow march, to the gallows pole/
The man in the black hood approaches,
I'm wondering just how good his rope is/
The noose is intact, and he takes a step back,
But every time my neck snap, I keep coming back!/
(X6) Everytime my neck snap, I keep coming back