Tales From The Mix Tape vol.3

by Kabal

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Full Digital Discography

37

releases

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Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of DECADES OF AGGRESSION, Street Trash in 3-D, KeyFob (SINGLE), MALICE, The Midnight Mass E.P., Tales From The Mix Tape vol.3, North of Hell, The Corrupted E.P., and 29 more. , and , .

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1.	Anti-Faggot Machine (Intro) 02:26	lyrics	buy track
“ANTI-FAGGOT MACHINE” Much love to all y’all fucking with me, you ain’t faggots, & much love to all of my homies, they ain’t faggots, Much love to the little big Gee, he ain’t a faggot, & much love to my Em & my P they ain’t faggots, “This is what I mean an Anti-Faggot Machine” Much love to my man Jerry P, he ain’t a faggot, & much love to the Reidle Needle believe he ain’t a faggot/ Much love to my man Donny G, he ain’t a faggot lliHmaS & C-A-G-E, they ain’t faggots/ Much love to Kris Kuemmet kumite he ain’t a faggot, & much love to Mandarin Jean, she ain’t a faggot, Much love to the Twisted Extreme, he ain’t a faggot, My whole X-Box family, they ain’t faggots/ “This is what I mean an Anti-Faggot Machine” Much love to Ronald C, he ain’t a faggot, & much love to my G’s back from Bramalea, you ain’t faggots, R.I.P., Jay P, Mike C & Mikey P, they wasn’t faggots, & much love to BWC we ain’t faggots, Much love to Mach Spitz see he ain’t a faggot, & much love to the Tank D-I-double Gs he’s no faggot, The Devil’s Latex & Sick Creeps, they ain’t faggots, & much love to those that are Non-PC you ain’t faggots/ “This is what I mean an Anti-Faggot Machine”
2.	Sit Tha Fuck Down (Simon Says) 02:59	lyrics	buy track
“SIT THE FUCK DOWN” HOOK/ Sit the fuck down Simon says sit the fuck down Yeah we run the city Vanilla unicorn rubbing on titties VIP we dont pay for shit I tip with my dick One phone call and all the hoes will strip at my crib Never land in bad sport Anymore I graduated Weathermen Grand Chapter further more to Satan's Favorites (V1.) Y’all know the name, I be CabalwithaK 420 controlling game/ Welcome to San-An-dreas, My team we be those vandals, It’s not L.A., we run the streets of Los Santos/ CEO, maze bank, funds in lumps, From selling cargo & gun running with the Sons of Trump/ Jumping walls on BMXs, flex endurance, Blow you up in your insurgent, gladly pay for your insurance/ Contest at arm wrestling I tore it out the socket like, Haters mad & jelly because they can’t afford a rocket bike/ Dial up Lamar he got the mugger on hold, Stole your last 10 grand and now you broke as a joke/ Another homeless bum I trolled with tranny coochie Peach, Sleeping underneath the pier down at Vespucci beach/ Hopping in your bat-mobile or locust or your viper, clown, Got you in my scope and watch you float, exploding sniper round/ (HOOK2) Sit the fuck down Simon says sit the fuck down Yeah we always take the map back, Diamond Casino dropping stacks on black jack My crew sick quick draw making kids re-spawn & fuck Frozen Ocean and that bitch Vic Von the Don Dodging bad sport blast pork & graduated Weathermen Grand Chapter further more to Satan's Favorites (V2.) Kris Kuemmet in the kumite or Cage in a Delorean, Like Troy Meat Packer bringing heat to Kenny Florian/ My boy Kev’s drum roll giving strife in massive loads, My crew keep dumb hoes living life in passive mode/ We ghost mode you can’t afford off the radar, “Yo what the fuck ever happened to Captain Yarr?” Firing at the gay bar & planning malice ways, Embrace shame if you stepping to my man Valex Haze/ AKA Ranger Ford rolling in a Ford Ranger, With Level 69 (Quagmire) Nihilist Sage, more ‘danger’!/ Our Charl and our Harv savage kids owning grown ups, & fucking LJT keeps blowing my phone up/ Smoking tangerine dream, provoke and slander my team, but your I fruit camera is scoping Mandarin Jean/ “I’m gonna say this once and I mean this”, We’ll make your life hell if you’re fucking with LLIHMAS/ Sit the fuck down Simon says sit the fuck down My boy Twisted Make em’ sit the fuck down The whole clique bitch Will make ya sit the fuck down
3.	The Ronald Routine (Freestyle) 01:54	lyrics	buy track
“THE RONALD ROUTINE” I'm back once again, for freestyle time, Unlike your wack men, with senile rhymes/ I crush you kids no pen or note pad, Cus I'm fresh n’ stupid n’ dope n’ all that/ Anyway let me say that I'm hear today, To tell you bout a brother from around the way/ A don named Ron here to see me play, No it's not Ron Jakowski from GTA/ Its Ronald the man, my number one fan, Got his girl by the hand, running up in the dance/ Wild style deez ways he done broke em, all, damn! Piledrive the DJ because he played no Kabal jams/ Catch these hands hot, n' ponder the fondled, But he don’t got beef hes not Ronald McDonald/ Speaking of Ron's like O'Neil hes super fly, But never getting high where hes needing an uber ride/ He loves his pops, he loves his moms, OG uncle James make your name live on/ Don't fall for no hoe, he got a girl named Malie, Kabal rock Toronto all the way to Cali/ Since the beginning I bombed it easy, My ninja ain't a ginger and he aint Ron Weasley/ You bitches kicking it with crews at Hogwartz, My shit is never stinking like doodoo or dogfarts/ Spin me again, Henchmen who shall come, In my DMs, asking "when's the new album?" He sees how yours truly is popping these philosophies, Hes been down long before I dropped Theokoles/ I'm the bringer of rain, the thunder maker, While Ron rolls his eyes back like the black undertaker/ And we're gonna make you Rest In Peace, Choke-slams, tombstones, while the best get geesed/
4.	Beat Down Street (Furry Cage Redux) 02:12	lyrics	buy track
“BEAT DOWN STREET” When the finishing move is unleashed, suckers run like it’s a breach of bail, cheap, stale, incarcerated/ In the jail of the mind you fail to find creativity, Still never been a cog & still the system wanna get me/ Put them worst in Maplehurt a thirst to burst a brothers’ will, When half the ones that’s up for murder didn’t even do the kill/ Blame someone, run, & grab the closest looking one, String em’ up and call it justice but I call it muthafuck this/ Kicking business with some bitches kiddies running to me, “Yo Wassup O.G.? Can you hook me a 20?”/ But that’s petty and I don’t peddle or canvas, but slam you down to the canvas, masked bandit & now you’re knowing who the man is/ Can’t stand it when I play the Luche Libre way, But you ain’t saying nothing I continue with the stuffing/ 9 feet 10 feet dunks can’t be beat, You wanna see em on the court? Well then I’ll meet you at Beat Street/ handing out beat downs bagging me up weak clowns, mastered art of war you master the agony of defeat now/ Speak nouns you drowning further in verbs, And adjectives you wanna scrap I clown and murder with words/ I can break you hook & shooting, stretch ya, holds until you tap, Or make you look stupid just for opening your yap/ Mumble rappers stumble backwards from the smacking of my lips flapping, Thought that I was strapped from sounds of cracking from the kids I'm slapping/ Packing no heater I just beat em' with my bare hands, Lay your beady eyes on me and see that's where your stare ends/ Daze with my gaze you frozen like a deer in headlights, Never starting trouble kid I’m only here to end fights/ See Kabal tallying the mourners left behind, As you flee the dark alley in the corner of my mind/ Brain bucking slugs at the mean mugging thugs, Now I’m cutting up the rug & got the scrubbing brush to clean your fucking blood.../
5.	C0R3 H4RD 02:00	lyrics	buy track
"C0R3 H4RD" I got a positive outlook so I won’t get stuck, & I got a negative outlook cus of old bad luck/ But if it wasn’t for bad luck I wouldn’t have no luck at all, The Gods in the heavens struck, rolled craps, so fuck Kabal/ & If I kill em’ all is it and justice for all?, Blood upon the stage ran busting your balls/ To the Wall another brick in, because I’m sick of all the bickering, Incinerate ignition from all the bics that y’all are flickering/ Burn the lies, burn your bodies, flaming flood, Turn the skies, churn the darkness, raining blood/ I against I like I’m Bad Brains, mad claims, gas mains, black flames, mass graves in ash trays/ Corpse paints, Mayhem, HellHammer lays men, Loyal to the grave since my cradle and my play pen/ Love me like a reptile, head made from old motor, Realm of chaos war master like a Bolt Thrower/ Overthrow, bodily domination, Within suffering, I bomb your station/ Mutation like a Road Mutant, executing all humans, I give a hoot but still abusing and produce pollutants/ Hear the silent screams I feast on a snack, Live a life of dreams with a beast on my back/ Like Martha Splatterhead with the maddest stories ever told, I’m Kevin Maggotbrain I bust the fattest gore in every load/ I’m getting sucked by your wife until her mandible warps, Then she gets fucked with a knife just like cannibal corpse/ Provoke and rattle faggots, Helloween scaring ya Face plant in an apple maggot quarantine area/ Sgt D. in the Hate Tank, stay dank, Straight shank & sex pistol, don’t spray blanks/ Thanks for the hardcore, the rest goin’ flee, So kill yourself to the March of the S.O.D./
6.	Empty Promises (NY Mind State Remix) 03:29	lyrics	buy track
"EMPTY PROMISES" (V1.) Leave em' facing the floor stiff, you can't phase me I roll pain in black, blazing more shit up than a crazy pyromaniac/ A pack a matches back in 83' enslaving me, Crack em' in a patch of dry grass, & laugh at people trying to save a tree/ Now people think I'm hailing Satan see, the truth of the matter is Christ for kids failed at saving me/ Fable fake buddies, bible camp study, Earning badges but I'd rather beat you with the book until my hands bloody/ Born with the darkness, born with the curses, Try to shed some light reciting passages & verses/ I'd kneel and prey at the side of my bed, And beg, the holy light, to put a sign in my head/ Just another black void transforms the stark blasphemer, still stuck traveling with my dark passenger/ He's planning massacres and plotting with the swiftness, Scribbling in blood, jotting kids down on the shit list/ Pass another year, the older I get, the more evil I feel, Trying to get a grip but he's the one holding the steering wheel/ I'd hit the brakes but he silencing my will, Ain't got no license to drive but got a license to kill/ Then I found the ill green around the age of fourteen, & now I'm thinking about killing a lot less more teens/ Still diseased with the anti-terrene, But when I'm cooking B.T.s I'm feeling plenty serene/ Brain still painting scenes sick and obscene, The macabre in my frontal lobe be picking my dreams/ Rest and I slip in slumber fall right there, Blessed with a bliss that you people call nightmares/ But these are heavenly delights in my minds eye, Curb em' with the herb I'm lighting siphoning a blind high/ Guiding light, but your God is mighty ominous, I sit and think about this, all the empty promises/ (V2.) The government tried to police pot, fuck what the police thought, I'd love to raid their evidence rooms and blaze what the police got/ Censor my thoughts & my freedom of speech? Living like its Marshall Law but who's policing the police?/ My mouthpiece spit the raw illest context, Trying to play God, but you got a Godzilla complex/ Disguised devils who be mopping with the holy glow, Wanna stop a movement like they're stomping out Tokyo/ My manifestos invested all my ramblings, Rantings and ravings injected with my gambling/ Trolling through mics with rap stables of strife, Rolling snake eyed dice on the crap tables of life/ You can take your lucky sevens son and shove them up your back door, The heavens never wanted Kevin, dwelling in the black more/ A dark lord with stark words from vocal chords, Small flock of followers drumming up the local horde/ Pissing on religion since the father at my christening, I ponder why I even bother when nobody's even fucking listening/ The big book couldn't save me, Had a revelation blazing pages on the daily/ Genius or insanity? It doesn't really matter see, I do this for my piece of mind & not for you to flatter me/ My dark tunnel doesn't have a holy light, The only lights I see are ones I put to shit rolled tight/
7.	Cookin' Beets (with Mike C.) 02:32	lyrics	buy track
(Instrumental Interlude)
8.	Hurricane Theo (Pure Kane Redux) 04:30	lyrics	buy track
"HURRICANE THEO" (HOOK) Hurricane Theo yeah that's the one, From South Central Bramalea, ain't packing no gun/ So when you pimp or when you play, For Heaven's sake don't make a mistake/ Hurricane Theo that's the one, Hurricane Theo get the job done/ Cold kicking like this y'all like that y'all Like that-a-like that-a-like that y'all, Have a spliff rolled before the outro & dropping funky dope lyrics on your ass bro/ (V1.) Let me get a sip of your slurpee, I dont got herpes, Squeezing out tracks like giving purple nerpies/ Sick of rhymes from the mind that ain't really true, doing my own thing like the King Willie New/ Not a K-mart store but I give your money's worth and more, Not some sell out sex shit about a dumb whore/ I dont care about dough just be showing my skills, Roll me any track and I'll smoke it like kill/ Got the zippo for the everlasting flame, But fuck the Olympics I ain't playing no game/ Back in 87' is when I started to bust, 2 videos on much(music)but never rocked electric circus/ Arsenio, Conan, Oprah or Lettermann, cold heart breaker and I never gave a damn/ Just here for the beer, boom, bitches and the ride, & break on through to the newest side/ Of the oldschool, straight outta suburbia, Step to me wrong I'm gonna be burning ya/ Concerning yourself with what the fuck I be doing, but dont worry about it as I'm straight up persuing/ My goals, dreams, plots, schemes, One man team since I was 15/ Seems when you're original the interest is minimal, But still I won't lie, or smile for buys/ No clean shaven face no clothes from the gap, I'd rather makes tracks in my lab and be anonymous/ Euronymous astonishes I'm Kevin Theodoropolus, to topple this acropolis you're gonna need an army plus/ The calvary, air force, anybody near, when I'm hear show respect and lend a muthafuckin ear/ It's clear you ain't game to my name I got fame, as the man that the law came to claim/(what's my muthafuckin name?) (HOOK) (V2.) Shots ring out in a barroom fight, The crowd blaming me I'm the only one who's white/ 3 chumps on the ground no gun in my hand, was only robbing the register I hope you undertand/ Me and my man hit the town and cruised around, we had no idea what kind of shit would go down/ Red and blue lights and the cops pulled us over, like the time before that and the time before that/ It was known I could K.O. a pig with one punch, but I didn't talk about it all that much/ Got away to the sticks, never clicked no trigger, to the good old hicks I'm just that crazy wigger/ Out of state, getaways plates, strange traits, drawing heat on the street if I show this face/ The ghetto in flames gotta fight for my name, hurricane Theo, 5-0 came to claim/ Running the game they need someone else to blame, Fame from a trigger “the rep grows bigger”/ So they figure they’re gonna do a favor, For society, but you’re lying see/ Cos’ you got no evidence, fingerprints, witnesses, Who saw me that night damn right my skin is white/ Some Gentleman Jim got me pinned, for triple murder, I don’t deserve it, straight getting swerved kid/ Stir me in the oven like you’re cooking gumbo, Should of stuck to wrestling like Hulk or Mike Rotunda/ Sitting check-mated in the place most hated, Should of hung from my bunk n’ go out like a punk/ Out of luck, locked up, guts cramping and curled, When I could of been the champion of the world.../ (HOOK)
9.	Fucked Up Child 02:29	lyrics	buy track
“FUCKED UP CHILD” (V1.) One with the funky mic to buck through them' all, she used to fuck Kabal now shes like "fuck you kabal"/ Born with the gift since I choked my twin, & now I got the style to make the whole world sin/ So digit you break north I'm drumming up words fast, I'm taking no shorts unless they're coming off your girls ass/ Pack heat speech, like Chinese pack MSG, I'm international but see I lack amnesty/ Talking all that trash, you see both hands might, Smack you in the face like I was your old man right/ Spoke and joke about me? you calling out the illest, Strokes for different folks like whatchu talking bout' willis?/ Born January 15th on MLK day I stay hard core while your men all stay gay/ Slaying blunts & 40s with the crunked up style Playing cunts & shortys it’s the fucked up child/ (V2.) You dick riding fuckers, find me clowning all the ball hangers, Downing suckers like my grandpa downed them Harvey Wallbangers/ Hurricane Theo I'm a natural disaster, Madder than Max with more masters than the blasters/ of the ghettos, so let go, you blowing on Benedetto’s, Stringing faggy fellows up in roping like Geppetto/ Talk all you want practice running off the mouth, I keep it North of Hell, as I’m gunning to the south/ Oh my God, fucked! you know I gotta be the top pick, jumping in your face just like Okada with a dropkick/ Hitting burning knuckles after climbing turnbuckles Plant the Brampton Crab you’re crying Uncle! Uncle! When I was young & Kevin snorting L.S.D., Now Kabal is 47 going on to 17/ Frozen in the house of Hell, chucked chumps piled, Still giving praise to the fucked up child/
10.	Green Lit (Whutchuwant Remix) 02:46	lyrics	buy track
"GREEN LIT" (V1.) Lyrical criminal, rip you with the quizzical, My mass is critical, the way I rip clinical/ Still you wanna do me dirty, like rotten imbeciles, Still I'll give it to you wordy, by dropping syllables/ Verbs & nouns that I be known to throw down, So gather round' again cos' it's about to go down/ I'm like a pro how the way I flow now, But treated like the popo rolling through Motown/ You gettin’ mowed down I'm coming through landscaping, Find my true form on drums my crew man's shaping/ Spit with clarity for charity no translating, You shook rookies drop the mic with your hands shaking/ You’re placating, that’s where the hate comes from, You would think I'm baking chickens the way I shake up crumbs/ You dressed in Sunday best? I cook ya fake thug son Cos' I'll show up to battle looking like a straight up bum/ No joke bro, I'll roll up like the hobo, version of Michael Myers and stab you faggots up "No homo"/ Liquid sword pro, flow to paint a photo, That you sit and study with dissection feinting slow-mo/ Rock the rewind/pause, you sit and screen shit, Jock the free mind cause I spit to scene rip/ Lock the steez in jaws, you and your team bit, Gawking at displeasing flaws, you're getting green lit/ Red light, yellow light, green light, go, Pay the price to eat and bite a mean tight flow/ Wrapped inside of lies to get your team hype, though, You've never even seen a stage or a gleaming beam light show/ You's a dreaming mic pro, try and get your views straighter, You need to clean your dome, try and get some clues hater/ You sit at home a plagiarizing tool scraper, Truth of the matter is you couldn't rip a mic made of newspaper/ Y’all drop the ball when it comes down to crunch time, I stay Kabal and dummy with another punchline/ I watch you fall, all you seeing is the sunshine, Laying on your back, still biting, eating like it's lunchtime/ I'm like a holy man with the verses, I'm like Bubba Ho-Tep with curses/ Get riddled with words I disperses, I’ll see you in I.C.U. with the nurses/ No apologies for leaving you a mess hoe, My worst flow still outweighs your best flow/ Spitting venom snake, Cobra like I'm Destro, Learning is half the battle, try and G.I. like the rest Joe/ Dead zone, between your neck and vest, where your seam split, Collect head pieces with my breezy teeth that squeeze spit/ I don't settle for second so see me seize shit, One word seeps from these lips, & you're getting green lit
11.	Palace of Malice 01:55	lyrics	buy track
"PALACE OF MALICE" Life is a lie, who said you're sworn to buy?, Dont even call your life alive because you're born to die/ I sit around hypothesize, is there a meaning or purpose? I look around and realize the work is seeming so worthless/ You'sa slave to the grind, body beaten and your mind, Buying everything you seeing just to leave it all behind/ Whats the reason for us being till our breathing lack to bid again, Hoping when I'm croaking I'll be going back to Midian/ Nightbreed, right read, might feed, nightly, Tight green, light weed, hype beast, fight me!/ Never backing down from any challenge or competitor, Any fucking clown around is selling out to get a whore/ Deplorable, the mutiny, the knot tied, own thee, Adorable you feel the need to not die lonely/ Programmed minds embrace addiction, Living your life that's based on fiction/ They call it life but this is just our life sentence, We crawl and dive through obstacles and strife strengthens/ Everybody strives for cleaner slates demanding penance, Any body Live is keen on hate and planning vengeance/ Jealousy, gluttony, greediness, laziness, Lusting in the wrath of your pride, embrace your craziness/ Loose screws needing tightening, you’re ripening, a special breed of fruit that rules the planet & it’s frightening/ Breathing in the smog as you roam, no care, so blindly, Feeling leap-y like a frog well then you know where you can find me/ In the Palace of Malice, smoking weed in a chalice, Plastic mask & slash & make you bleed like Alice sweet Alice/ Only shake with my right, expecting death landing tons, & I don’t smoke ciggies no more except them left handed ones/ I never know who I be dissing with the mess that I spew, But if you’re the only one who’s listens then I guess that it’s you/🤷🏻‍♂️
12.	Books of Blood (Benjaminz Remix) 03:17	lyrics	buy track
"BOOKS OF BLOOD" If I played the piano I'd be the Phantom of the opera, Drop a tab, a vat of acid, burn half of my face off/ If I lived in London I'd be known as Jack the Ripper, Skinning living hoes to death & hacking up the strippers/ If I was a doctor I would drink like I was Jekyll, turn to Mr.Hyde and leave you're insides specked/ On the walls, I be the evil double feature with the hack & gloom, If I was a swimmer turn to Creature from the black lagoon/ Electrocute my neck bolts I'm Frankenstein's monster, The first skateboarding zombie to go pro & get sponsored/ Grow my fro and roll like Blackula, No winged rat who sucks blood so I be like muthafuck Dracula/ Attacking every full moon, inhuman now I'm Wolfman, But I always wake up nude holding on my tool, damn!/ Wrapped like a Mummy & unwind in my sarcophagus, Drop me in a coffin when I'm done being Kevin Theodoropolus/ Topple this dirt on my skeletal omnibus, Making bones until I'm bones burnt under the Necropolis/ If I was a shark I'd snack like Jaws and eat your boat up, Retarded Hunchback? I'd ring the bells like Quasimodo/ You're taking off your blouse I see convincible cans, Because I snuck inside your house like the Invisible man/ Invasion of the body snatcher, Murders in the rue morgue, The thing that couldn't die, Dead Alive, a true horror/ Swilling moonshine stills with the zombie rednecks, If I was pissing on your priest you'd call me Rawhead Rex/ If I was the collector, I'd have that bone cell smell, If I ran a murder business it'd be Motel Hell/ With the human beef jerky that you be buying for dirt cheap, turn to Jason Voorhees every Friday the 13th/ If I was Ezra Cobb I'd drop your cock in a blender, If I lived in New Jersey, I'd be the Toxic Avenger/ If I lived in New York, then you would call me Frank Zito, Put your scalp upon a mannequin that's wearing a tuxedo/ If I lived in Los Angeles, I'd be sick and scandalous, Carve a pentagram in my hand like Richard Ramirez/ Catch me in the New Orleans swamp with a hatchet face, A parasitic twin that you can stick inside your Basket case/ If I was the Hitcher, kill and move on to another place, Hit you with the chainsaw? so you can call me Leatherface/ If I was a cop I'd be like Matt Cordell, A maniac & beat you with my billy bat so well/ If you're in the shower all the power to this psycho, If it's Halloween I change my first name to Michael/ Riding motorcycles with the Chopper chicks from Zombie Town, If I was Charlie Fletcher I would track my body parts down/ Play my VHS I haunt you like the Ring, If I was in Antarctic turn into the Thing/ If I ran a whore house it'd be Bordello of Blood, If I was roaming in the sewers I'd be known as Bud the C.H.U.D./ If I was a geek I'd seek intestines at Comic Con, If I was Ash I'd write my raps down inside the Necronomicon/ If I was Jobe I'd end your life in a computer, Switch from Graveyard Shift to days, I'm still the Intruder/ If my name was Freddy Kruegar I would do you in the furnace If I was the Book of Blood then you could read my epidermis/ (Chorus) Cool n' groovy, got your toilet full of Ghoulies, FBI coming cus I'm dubbing scary movies/ Truly spooky like a loony in the boonies, Blood Sucking Freak turning humans into smoothies/ Boogie Man duties, making ruby out of beauties, Writing scriptures in crimson with women who are floozies/ Your face in the mud, while I'm puffing on the Lucys, Another Book of Blood page smothering the groupies/
13.	Satan's Advocate (Outro) 01:10	lyrics	buy track
(Instrumental Outro)

about

TALES FROM THE MIXTAPE VOLUME # 3

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 Studio (c) Midian Music 2013-2020
Cover art by: Kabal