Get all 21 Baba Brinkman releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
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1. |
Mine The Gap
04:20
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Mine the Gap
Check the lyrical adventurism, travel writing with a sense of rhythm
I'm as sensitive as vikings when inviting heads to listen
To this abstract expressionist rap
Like Jackson Pollock,
When he spreads the pigment
This is Baba Brinkman on the Underground in London, England
Surrounded by the sound of competition causing constant friction
A lot of guys probably tryin' to strive for the top positions in their offices
And on this ride their eyes are mono vision
Crawling on the bodies of the hottest vixens, probably thinkin'
“Ima get my knob licked by all these women, once I've got the auspicious job description
plus the cars and riches for the proper proposition”
And I'm thinkin' "All these bankers and doctors and lawyers
In training probably have a whole lot to offer you gorgeous
And without the enormous wallet and other resources
All I can offer is locked in my cortex
Like the knowledge that this starving artist could rock your entire corpus
Like wild horses that never let you settle for a child's portion
But I ain't sittin' on the train stunned like James Blunt
So I get off at the next stop to go try to record this
Please mine the gap
Please mine the gap
Please don't disturb this man when he's trying to rap
Please stand clear of the closing doors
The closing doors determine my chosen course
When I infiltrate the city like a Trojan horse
The next stop is Marble Arch
Please mine the gap
Please mine the gap
Please stand clear of the closing doors
On this public transit labyrinth in London
I'm standing on the subway crammed in
With a bunch of other average companions
When someone Islamic steps onto the carriage
Clutching a lumpy package and everybody panics
So we gotta stop the train and wait for the cops to come
And confiscate his Double Club Sandwich
I got my iPod on, watching, bumping Cut Chemist
As they let him off with a warning
And now he's got a suspended sentence
And it's obvious to everybody now that he's innocent
Like 99% of his religious and ethnic brethren
But that never prevented these British citizens from letting their suspicions
Get the better of their stiff upper lips
And forgetting the principles of liberty and justice just this once
To protect the parents of their kids
And now I just missed my connection
And I was on my way to meet up with this lady
So that I could try to get some
Feminine affection
So instead I'm directionless
Like the rest of my generation
So instead of wastin' my free time chasin' a feline
I spend the day at a demonstration at the train station
Wavin' a Peace sign
Please mine the gap
Please mine the gap
Please don't disturb this man when he's trying to rap
Please stand clear of the closing doors
The closing doors determine my chosen course
When I infiltrate the city like a Trojan horse
Please mine the gap
Please mine the gap
Please stand clear of the closing doors
Underfoot, underground cultures cross-fertilize
I stand under a dirty sign and watch bodies hurtle by
Behind glass etched with the tags of graffitists
Who see their works work the circuit of the circle line
Bags are snatched
Other bags hang under worker's eyes
Bags full of blues, coffee and overtime
We stare at each others shoes
'Cause shoes designate a person's tribe
We've all bought the merchandise
And when the train stops at Totteridge & Whetstone
We all look up and watch a nervous guy get off his bench
And get in line and step in
Let's call him Kevin
Blushing at the couple showing signs of affection
Kevin sits and tries to hide his erection
Behind a paperback entitled “Pride and Perfection”
Hunched spine like a question, he wants to chat
But people are unreachable across the gap
The gap between the seats which allows passengers to read The Metro Without touching knees with the next bloke
The gap between the twee with their legs closed
And the pin striped white collar fiending to get coked
Up in the gap between the office and the strip club
Hopin' it ends in a cocktail and a dick rub
It's the gap between the man that enters with a pimp strut
And the lady reading “Heat” who wants a nip and tuck
All citizens of the world just different hair-dos
Step across the gap, bruv
I dare you
I double dare
Yeah
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2. |
Fried Rice
05:04
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Fried Rice
You know
We're comin' to get ya
We're comin' to get fried rice
You know
It'll never be the same
Never be the same
Oh no no
You know
We're comin' to get ya
We're comin' to get fried rice
You know
It'll never be the same
Never be the same
Oh no
All the rain dogs have come to shake off the street sound
Rave off the rain fog let the fools steam out
Some of them beach bound some run for West St.
Heads full of spare change wallets with confetti
Pockets with the reddy's that keep the city pretty
The spare cash that beats the sea back and keeps the police busy
'Cause if it weren't for drunk disorder
Brighton would be surely drowning in salt water and budget board ordered
As it is
We're the mecca for letting hair down
Come ride the carousel and join the fair ground
A powder shot of soma in this candy floss city
Where they say the drinkers come to practice animosity
And a teenager dressed as a man can watch titties and talk totty
Where a crotch costs a grand, it's not for free
It's in the hand of gangsters who are expanding their monopoly
From the strip club to the hippie cafe across the street
It's all part of the fun, the fun has become a commodity
Like the square full of sun and beach front properties
“Honestly, Neil, it's so bohemian”
But that type of freedom comes at a costly premium
And Simon says that it's a hard logic
He gets less for forty hour weeks and selling narcotics
From his front room to kids from London
'Cause Brighton's where you go not where you come from
No
Your paper wings are faded man
You're flying too close to the sun
Hey when spring comes early
I'll be there
The way the night weighs upon my shoulders
Oh no no
'Cause we're coming to get ya
We're comin' to get fried rice
You know
It'll never be the same
Never be the same
Oh No
I said we're comin' to get ya
We're comin' to get fried rice
You know
It'll never be the same
Never be the same
I was soaring over a cultural desert of false pleasures
On a pair of stolen wings made from beeswax and vulture feathers
I could barely hold them together
When I came to a baron ocean and entered this oasis of Arizona weather
Alternating with rains wetter than Amazonian rivers
And I found shelter there with the local rebels
Who entertained themselves by experimenting with their serotonin levels
On pebble beaches
Before descending into the nether regions of the hills
Dressed in leather breaches, necking pills like Skittles
In the steamiest dens of sexual deviants
Ready to pledge allegiance to nothing less than pleasure seeking
Yes, a festive ethos infected them every weekend
And this bohemian mecca needed a network
Of creative musicians, MCs and Djs for entertainment
The kind of place where the nightlife is just as vital as the fire brigade
Where a guy can ply his trade live on stage
In front of a bunch of primates with deep fried brains
And Hey! I can relate to the desire to change your mindstate every night
Wake up with a migraine and the next day try it again
So I stayed in Brighton for quiet some time
Mostly because I like the way the locals play this rhyme game
But I was never quite native to this tribal oasis
Just an honorary adopted member
So I left them to the onslaught of winter
Confident that liberty is something they will not surrender
You Know
We're comin' to get ya
We're comin' to get fried rice
You know
It'll never be the same
Never be the same
Oh no no
We're comin' to get ya
We're comin' to get fried rice
You know
It'll never be the same
Never be the same
Oh no
I am here
So I hear
But I feel I'm not near
Then I'm gone
So so long
You know time just stumbles on
And once I leave
I can breath
Tuck some cards under my sleeve
And then Baby when I get back
I'll let you know
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3. |
How It Is
03:31
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How It Is
That's how it was
But this is how it is
That's how it was
But this is how it was
That's how it was
But this is how it is
I making fat prophets crossing Biggie Smalls with Nostradamus
My catastrophic predictions are postally apocalyptic
But I'm not as cryptic
I'm pathologically optimistic
I had the option to stop giving a crap
But I passed on it
Like gastronomical blockage
I got the laxative product
I'm flowing with massive volume
Like the plasma you got in your arteries
You can't stop it without stopping your heartbeat
I'm droppin' cacophonic harmonies on tracks often
My sixteen bars get adapted to rap sonnets
And passed off as neoclassical knowledge
That's real masterful like a National Geographic
But I can be irrational 'cause I'm dealing with mad problems
That seem to surpass logic
Like a workaholic ant cursin' and misanthropic
I'm building a colony and callin' on any rapper with skill
To follow me and try to match topics
And patterns and rhythmic trash talkin'
And then when I'm finished
I party with the grasshoppers
That's how it was
But this is how it is
That's how it was
But this is how it was
That's how it was
But this is how it is
That's how it was
I write barefoot ballads that bite bullets and fight bullshit
Treatin' the mic booth as my pulpit
Preachin' towards the force of five full clips
Sharper than implements from a clever guy's tool kit
I also write songs
Veloci-raps with teeth of razors
That chase kids through the streets for days
Without pause for thinking
With claws that sink in
And choruses that disenslave a man like Abraham Lincoln
Me and Baba are Captain Haddock and TinTin
The two tongue talker touring Toon Town
In a turbo teleporter with the roof down
Turning the tweaker to ten
That's the only way we'll put our tunes out
BMI and Virgin won't touch 'em
Fuck 'em
We'll keep slurring sentences like stoned Dutchmen
Yelling like our microphones don't function
We find fucking with photogs more fulfilling than punchin' 'em
That's how it was
But this is how it is
That's how it was
But this is how it was
That's how it was
Oh Really? How was it?
Once upon a time not long ago
You can find me gobbling mind boggling flows like an alcoholic
Swallowing fine bottles of wine
Now try and follow me close
As I expose most Hip Hop guys as lobotomized hoaxes
Whoop Whoop!
It's the sound of the policemen
Filling my town with impetulant screeching
A man shouted “Free Palestine!”
They tried to arrest him for treason
But we rushed 'em and they hid for the rest of the evening
Who's world is this?
It's now a superfluous search for pedicurers and perfect services
I work the verbal superlatives
And if you listen and think this verse is sick
Don't purchase it, just burn this disc
Don't push me 'cause I'm close to the edge
Sick of my generation vegetating on sofa beds
I'm standing on broken bus stops
Throwing stones at the Feds
Chuck your hands up to catch what I said
'Cause it's over your head
That's how it was
But this is how it is
That's how it was
But this is how it was
That's how it was
But this is how it was
That's how it was
But this is how it was
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4. |
Tongue N Groove
04:25
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Tongue N Groove
I jump from the swings
And catch jerks on the way down
Takin' my mentality back to the playground
Act like I'm eight now
Mr. Mischievous me
Stark bullock naked
Giggling meaninglessly
“What's he doin' mummy?”
Lickin' an ice lolly
Diggin' the way folks consider me quite ugly
Just try and stop me
I bet you can't lady
I'm pass caring strolling down the pier half crazy
With security giving me the dark loom
Like, “Boss, who's this dude bathing in the log flume
Dabblin' off at the ticket office with the oddest expression
Honestly, somebody should coverhis modesty
Come! Arrest him for his infractions
For being naked on a tourist attraction
Come on
Slinging words like some sort of assassin
I can't catch all that he chattin'
But it's something like..”
Fuck an orderly fashion
I'm audibly passionate
Only the mortuary would force me to abdicate
Until my breaths cut by the claws of the hands of fate
I'll keep keep screaming my thoughts to the crashing waves like
Fuck It! I've got nothing to prove
Nothing you do can stop me sticking my tongue in the groove
It's wonderous!
The unpredictable diction delivered by Dizzy and Baba Brinkman
We're singing
Fuck It! I've got nothing to prove
Nothing you do can stop me sticking my tongue in the groove
It's wonderous!
The unpredictable diction delivered by Dizzy and Baba Brinkman
I heard a call of enticement from the guys on the golf course
They wanted me to chase balls for 'em
But I couldn't fall for it
'Cause I gotta have a colorful life
Like licorice all-sorts
That's why I don't roll with unoriginal cyborgs
This is my course
And I'm trying to make some serious moves
I tried to pick up a chick with the clearest blue eyes
When I was passing through Syracuse
But she refused
Said she could only be with the man she felt nearest to
And I was on the move
And this was very true
So I bid farewell to this incredible pair of boobs
And carried through
I'm only taking risks that I'm prepared to lose
And occasional relationships I cherish too
But really, what's a free spirit to do?
Every few days I find myself in a new place
And I can't fit a woman in my suitcase
So I do what it takes in my own foolish way
And it usually makes the souffle taste a little more gourmet
So you might here some stories if I tour your way
You can call me a whore
But it's your mistake
'Cause I'm just in it for enjoyment
I don't live to fornicate
That was a bar late
AHHH!
Fuck It! I've got nothing to prove
Nothing you do can stop me sticking my tongue in the groove
It's wonderous!
The unpredictable diction delivered by Dizzy and Baba Brinkman
I'm like
Fuck It! I've got nothing to prove
Nothing you do can stop me sticking my tongue in the groove
It's wonderous!
The unpredictable diction delivered by Dizzy and Baba Brinkman
I am the kind of man that militant blokes punch
But I won't change my name like Cinnamon Toast Crunch
I'm sicker than most punks getting slapped with injunctions
For attracting sumptuous lasses with Smashing Pumpkins
Manic street preacher screaming at Speaker's Corner
Like a panicked bee keeper with an avid speech disorder
Dramatically more delirious I flow so furiously
My hormone overdoses are known to disorder periods
Of course we're serious! Deep thinking philosopher lyricists
With commentary as gritty as Pete Doherty's liver is
And we keep flippin' scripts 'cause we're both show stoppers
With more balls than a couple of Harlem Globetrotters
These bros drop flows hotter than animal fetuses
Ending cannibal thesis' with Avril Lavigne disses
This necrophiliac rap molested a brilliant classic
I could serve you the head of Sylvia Plath on a silver platter and still be in fashion
This is the line that Rowan is supposed to say
But he's got nothin' 'ere cause he never says anything anyway
Yo they call me Baba 'cause I'm babbling some bullshit
To get your girlfriend gathering in to suckle on my massive dink
Here's the Dizraeli line that's just funky
But I'm crap at these accents from the west country
Yo it's your host Dizraeli and I'm the verbose Canadian
Cramming so many literary references into my dense shit that no ones quite getting my sentences and it doesn't quite fit into this shit...
Fuck It! I've got nothing to prove
Nothing you do can stop me sticking my tongue in the groove
It's wonderous!
The unpredictable diction delivered by Dizzy and Baba Brinkman
We're singing
Fuck it!
Nothing you do can stop me
I've got nothing to prove
It's wonderous!
Nothing you do can stop me sticking my tongue in the
Unpredictable diction
By Dizzy and Baba Brinkman
We're singing
Fuck it!
I've got nothing to
Stop me sticking my tongue in the
Wonderous
Unpredictable diction
Delivered by Dizzy and Baba
Dizzy
Dizzy and Baba
Dizzy
Dizzy and Baba Brinkman
We're singing
Fuck It! I've got nothing to prove
Nothing you do can stop me sticking my tongue in the groove
It's wonderous!
The unpredictable diction delivered by Dizzy and Baba Brinkman
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5. |
Louder
03:29
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Louder
All the way from UK without an ID number
To flip syntax with the impact of a funk drummer
Spin back the revolution
I hunt the hunter
From the slums of London
To where winter becomes summer
An old liberator is neo-nazi
I am not too happy
To watch Mugabe
Drainin' the coins in the peoples pockets
Breakin' the pavement for a poxy prophet
The stink's so heavy in the heart of where the bosses rot
And it spreads over the globe and the world watches
Democratic murder
Bullets pepper ballot boxes
Single party politics
Are filing off his blocks
It's reminiscent of the television horror
The demolition of a country for a quick dollar
Politician men are sipping from the city's coffers
No amount of rhetoric can hide their dishonor
But this globe trotter's not afraid
To blow the xenophobe off it's
Office with a phrase
So call me the prose bomber
The grenade pin puller
Show stopper
Got to chase the cock away
Raise your flame
Stake your claim
Say your name out
Louder!
Louder!
Louder!
Louder!
If you're in the crowd
Stick your fists out
Get Loud
Louder!
Louder!
Louder!
Louder!
I've got these southern neighbors who've been causing problems lately
They got people locked in cages on their property
It's crazy
Guantanamo Bay is basically a concentration camp
Where the inmates are trapped in cages by the patriot act
They're trying to get some information fast but it's unreliable
And where the hell did a man's right to trial go?
There's no defenses when your file is closed behind those green fences
And there's no reason to even mention the Geneva Convention
'Cause your special classification doesn't seem to be listed as a need of protection
So they can keep you in prison
With chains on your feet
And squeeze you into a fetal position
Until they're finished with their whole
Middle Eastern freedom mission
If this doesn't breach the constitution then it needs revision
But it's practically tradition
Witch hunts, Macarthyism
And abuse of power
Their lives are whispers
But they might start to listen if the truth is louder
Raise your flame
Stake your claim
Say your name out
Louder!
Louder!
Louder!
Louder!
If you're in the crowd
Stick your fists out
Get Loud
Louder!
Louder!
Louder!
Louder!
How about this then Mr. President?
The bubble that you're livin' in
Is about to blow like glycerin
And you tried to tie my hands
But I unfettered them
I know the lie of the land
Now I'm layin' down the evidence
Yeah it's Mud Sun, lyrical gadflies
Two voices of dissent
Exposing mad lies left and right
Unmasking poisonous men
We live in a gap full of landmines
Where most political stories are spin
But the louder we speak truth to power
The sooner this bullshit is going to end
Raise your flame
Stake your claim
Say your name out
Louder!
Louder!
Louder!
Louder!
If you're in the crowd
Stick your fists out
Get Loud
Louder!
Louder!
Louder!
Louder!
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Baba Brinkman New York, New York
Canadian hip-hop with an intellectual bent, nothing but sexy beats and sumptuous brain food.
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