R.A. the Rugged Man — All My Heroes Are Dead (The Introduction)

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Текст R.A. the Rugged Man — All My Heroes Are Dead (The Introduction)

Yo, we are turnt the fuck up today (tonight, aww, shit)
And I’m so happy to introduce our next guest
I’ve known this man for a very long time (Rugged Man)
And he’s one of the greatest
His knowledge of a lot of shit is crazy
This is legendary
Without further ado I’d like to introduce to the Combat Jack Show
R.A. The Rugged Man, yeah

I’m back, five hundred shows and two babies later
Another classic album, the game-changer savior
For every fan who said my music saved their life, this is for you
Without the love from fans, I’d be dead, you saved my life, too
‘Cause I didn’t release an album, some thought that I maybe quit
But I was tourin’ cities, payin’ bills and wipin’ baby shit
From the rotten core, pop imposters lock your door
Knock-knock, it’s hip-hop’s most shockin’ provocateur

Society despiser, grind of a violent viking fighter
Vibin’ to the violence inside ya, the suicide survivor
Civilize a 85’er, mind of Malcolm and Elijah
Tiger-manimal hybrid, island of Dr. Frankenheimer
My umbilical cord was a bullet belt of ammunition
Rap master mission, battle system, savage tactician

But I been ban-barred, been scarred, lived hard
Why try? Die hard, but I fight on and my pipe bomb
Was a icon in your iPod and your tape decks
Rape trainwrecks, and I break necks, I’m a rhyme god
Whether rappin’ slow or rappin’ fast
I’m back at last with a masterclass

From double time to boom-bap, I gotta switch the form
Go from battle raps to club records, to politics, to porn
Not the snitchin’ gossipin’ blog era of TMZ
I’m from the olden golden era, home of EPMD
We run planets, you cunt maggots smoke dust and puff xanax
Pussy pink hair snitchin’, mumble-mouth drug addicts
You fiddlesticks checker-playin, amateur spectator
I’m a Garry Kasparov grandmaster chess player (go, go, go, go, go)

Need to get ahead, get a record in demand
Rugged never ran, get a better plan, better dead a man
Schizophrenia, mind in prison, the existentialist nihilism
When I flow and go in and I’m rope on the men
You see Mussolini body blow in the wind
With the Damien devil, the omen of sin
Is Mao Zedong, Ho Chi Minh, murdering holy men

Rippin’ the mic ’til I’m dead in the grave
I’m the best in the world, I get better with age
And I dedicate it to my son and my daughter
Recorded this album for every supporter

This for those that admire fire flows and bars
This not a fashion show, clothes, money, hoes and cars
When my pen touch paper, pages feel violated, shook
I #MeToo’d my notebook, the speech creep, the known crook
I’m from the murder era when O.J. was acquitted
Before oversensitive triggered little bitches existed
The bloody ape, lowlife, die-rugged legend never died
Welcome back to R.A. The Rugged Man, Part Five

But here you are, you’re this golden child, dude
You got this crazy deal, you’re crazy talented
I have mental problems, man, I was mentally ill in the 90s, man
It was true, you know? And I cleaned up my act