Oblique Brown, by Chee Malabar

Oblique Brown

by Chee Malabar

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Full Digital Discography

12

releases

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1.	Silent Scream 02:18	info	buy track
2.	Smoke & Mirrors 02:45	lyrics	buy track
I give a fuck who's who on your whose who list I turn whose who to who's dude quick Their music's a nuisance, acoustics I choose I use as nooses, Cross reference the truth spit. music biz is the new crucifix for dudes with Messiah complexes tryin to test this your god don't live here, keep him on your necklace welcome to hell son, they got you on the guestlist keep your Lexus, their investments your deathwish posthumous product means monstrous profit I'm live on arrival, ain't sponsored by morbid Corporate feedback, forfeit or ease back Mafucka Chee's back, to sow these seeds of drama Sending Rumsfeld sonograms of Osama Turn a phrase like Vanna with that switchblade grammar That monogrammed 'bitchmade' on ya suede bomber [Hook] Baffle 'em with brilliance or dazzle 'em with bullshit This music: you either fight, fuck or dream to it Baffle 'em with brillianc or dazzle 'em with bullshit Elevate, they treat it like elevator music Baffle 'em with brilliance or dazzle 'em with bullshit This music: you either fight, fuck or dream to it [Verse 2] Drink wet cement, mixed with hot tar So everything I spit's concrete, dog I rock hard Drop bars, fortified with a barbed wire Hard wired to wreck shit, leave you disconnected Indie rap reflex and knee jerk response is Like "Chee's work is conscious" cause these herbs is nonsense With bomb threats and triggers, pawn sex and scripture This verse: a still image of a moving picture Scrimmage with dudes in rooms doomed with liquor With sobering thoughts, my lyrics shall purge you Scotch bottles ain't a proper prism to view my work through Serve you whoever, circa any era Terror dome poems, homes my brain is a moshpit I'm straight up and down like 6 on the clock is Yall do it backwards, got shit on ya cock's tip Go around ya clique, I surround them quick Then fart in ya ear so you can hear the sound of shit [Hook] Baffle 'em with brilliance or dazzle 'em with bullshit This music: you either fight, fuck or dream to it Baffle 'em with brillianc or dazzle 'em with bullshit Elevate, they treat it like elevator music Baffle 'em with brilliance or dazzle 'em with bullshit This music: you either fight, fuck or dream to it [Verse 3] They say 'Have flow will travel", vocals forged From iron ore transformed to 44 steel barrels Spill gravel, pavin' a path for cats To travel if I hear a rapper say he wanna battle Slay ya cattle, skin 'em, hang 'em as draperies You signed to a major, welcome to chattel slavery Your rap's void of factoids, it's all make believe You swallowing semen (sea men) like choppy sea's do naval fleets Pappy please, you the face behind Maybeline Chee's the abrasive face these racists deem Sand Nigga fuck! Son I'm sand paper rough I scrub till it chafes then I scrape up the dust Place it on tapes till it makes me a buck Embracing my placement, this place is a rut Stuck between, rap, a rock and a hard place No jobs, just wars, so fuck ya God's grace
3.	Thoroughbred 03:05	lyrics	buy track
Rap labels polish pebbles and dim diamonds So tell 'em quit spittin' and stick to bling rhymin' I'm you times ten, times ten them dudes you miming Dudes is hype-men, hymen soft and ass crack I ransack their lab and insert their album with a laugh track You'se a joke, Your career's the punchline I sold less and made more than you, and did it unsigned Sirens blaze when my, vinyl's played Cause I'm, live on stage with an unbridled rage Pacing like lions locked in an iron cage Listen man, I came with that migrant wave In '89 before rap hit its suicidal phase Nowadays every rapper's dyin' to lie in his idol's grave In dire straits strapped, with dull knives and blades Carve the night a new day till it bleeds vibrant rays I'm sunshine, you? A sundial in the shade [Hook] No rings, no bling, no rims, no cars (Chee). What? Chee) Malabar I'm the man that you think you are! Chee). What? Chee) Malabar No rings, no bling, no rims, no cars (Chee). What? Chee) Malabar I'm the man that you think you are! (Chee). What? Chee) Malabar [Verse 2] No publicist dog, I'm a one man street team Shove my cleats in your mouth and scrape ya teeth clean Since cat's yap with gold fronts about plaque and flossin' I jab them soft then, unleash Jack Johnson Soundtrack to the brown experience, this verse is strapped to hijack your train of thought and Colin Ferguson the track A new version's appeared and he ain't turban clad and if I was, I'd rock it with pride and still burn ya flag By any means the ends necessitate, rehearsed that mantra Now they sayin' I can sell more if I just learned some bhangra You know? Pet dog while I'm screwin' in the light bulb Fucker, I pull my pants up and lean back in the club No crutch, just Chee, no microwaved hype Just one, two's that turn the stage into fuckin' gravesites So, to sum it all up, with this last bar The name's Chee, I'm the man that you think you are! [Hook] No rings, no bling, no rims, no cars (Chee). What? Chee) Malabar I'm the man that you think you are! Chee). What? Chee) Malabar No rings, no bling, no rims, no cars (Chee). What? Chee) Malabar I'm the man that you think you are! (Chee). What? Chee) Malabar
4.	Chee Malawho? 04:39	lyrics	buy track
Malabar, vocal's pop like shots from shotguns sawed Rap's Scratch Perry mixed with bits of Coxson Dodd I––brought some bars, I––talks 'em hard On my walls, no plaques, just the tongues of slaughtered squads ... Don't answer to no gods at no temple, synogogue, No church or the mosque just the culture's 5 pillars, Emceein' is my hajj start trippin', get maimed, they scream "strains of Jihad" Not Master Fard Muhammad, but that bastard Chirag And I want it all yall, them Aston's in ya garage To the stone studded broaches on the bras of ya broads ... Give a fuck who applauds dog, this is real (Israel) intelligence, shades of Mossad uh, played the odds and strayed from the Mirage and went from an, iron fist in a velvet glove façade to manhandlin' beats with this brass-knuckle massage [Hook] (Chee ain't no joke) (But he's got no dough) (He's got dope flows) (Man, he's just so so) (We got lo-pros, hoes on the hoe stroll we got coco, to keep ya nose froze) (Oh bro! Motherfuck what you sayin your off beat DJ, if anything he play sound familiar, I'll wait till Zeeb say. slay 'em) [Verse 2] Squandered a few nights, got up in some new Nikes Walk like a pimp, but talk my age, not my shoe size Spit on crews, give 'em weather, when they asked for news bytes Dead a rapper's career, hit his wake screamin' "Who's Live!" .......Man I'm livin' for this rap shit but half of it's slapstick and no one crafts a classic its four finger rings, Benzes and spinner rims cause America won't buy it unless we pander to its ignorance .......Cause if its filtered through intelligence they'd have to stare square at the ivory tusked elephants in the room, and I guess you'd be relevant but nah, stick your ass out so your sponsorship can poke it as I cram a phrase in this space till the page is claustrophobic and it leaps off in angst and hope like Monster Cody wrote it listen homey, sign over the check and run it I ain't the One, I'm all of Urb's nex One Hundred! [Hook] (Chee ain't no joke) (But he's got no dough) (He's got dope flows) (Man, he's just so so) (We got lo-pros, hoes on the hoe stroll we got coco, to keep ya nose froze) (Oh bro! Motherfuck what you sayin your off beat DJ, if anything he play sound familiar, I'll wait till Zeeb say. slay 'em) [Verse 3] Brown man in a white world, live it through Black music Scrapped my way out the crab barrel, got the scabs to prove it Shadow my movements, I shadow box till noon hits And splits my shadow in two and I bask in its newness ... At times the feud shifts up against the ropes, getting' pummeled, man I jab through it fuck a Larry Merchant sermon homes, I move at Harry's urging and he's screamin' "Attack, kill, show 'em your granite will" ... I don't fit your standard bill built from raw nerves like that man-child in the Catskills I'm sick, they just act ill Bunch of hypochondriac cats with a bag of bad pills Trying to swim in talent pools with sharks, but they lack gills ...and their whole album sounds like a gag-reel Hog tie their steez and cook 'em up on Cadillac grills And chill, let the Cognac spill [Hook] (Chee ain't no joke) (But he's got no dough) (He's got dope flows) (Man, he's just so so) (We got lo-pros, hoes on the hoe stroll we got coco, to keep ya nose froze) (Oh bro! Motherfuck what you sayin your off beat DJ, if anything he play sound familiar, I'll wait till Zeeb say. slay 'em)
5.	Motormouth 01:05		buy track
6.	Four More Years 02:52	lyrics	buy track
Verse 1] Guerilla speech spitter, script raps from facts, ack the patriot act's intended target barks back pardon my hardened views, but listen close dude I'm two rhymes away from a hard cold cell's view from Guantanamo Bay, cause the shit I'm prone to say dont sit well while the ink's still, wet on the constitution amended, rendered a blatant danger this year cause America's patterened on a culture of fear I never gave a fuck if George Bush or Kerry won I still ain't shit, just a third class American thinkin' this the life that my dear God willed but I'm livin' in the kingdom that the House of Saud built [Verse 2] The bullet or the ballot, I guess you chose both poisons sendin' our sons to die, on foreign soils since they ain't your sons, they're brown like me while your son's gettin drunk, gettin a Yale degree he's rockin a Che shirt, as daddy hits paydirt bankrolling politicians who claim we lack faith but your politics informed by a fuckin' tax break masked by a patronizing democratic fervor to exploit Iraqi people and justify their murder truth is, we livin' under theocractic rule in God We Trust, the new neo fascist tool is money, and you helped put these vultures inside let em pump you fear then blame a cultural divide what the fuck do I expect when Jerry Falwell's your guide White Amerikkka's in crisis, and what would Christ say? bout the family structure of these brown black faces? well lets take a closer look at what divorce rates is- twice the national average in your bible belt and yall elected Bush to help revive our health? 26 of 28 states with the lowest income rates swayed in his favor and he's your fuckin' savior? yall stupid as fuck or compelled by Christian guilt thinkin' this the life that your dear god willed but you livin' in the kingdom that the house of Saud built
7.	Oblique Brown 05:53	lyrics	buy track
[Verse 1] It was the, moment I feared, the corner was clear or so I thought then a fucking cop appeared in my rearview, red-blueberries was flashing flagged me to the side of the road, starte daskin' for "License, Registration", stayed silentand patient waitin... as the cop ran my plates, he came back moments later scanning my face, disappointed, "Ain't no warrants in my name and this ride's clean man, I got it in my mama's name, what I do? "You ran a red, illegal U, that's two tickets!" "Cool, pass em over, i'd love to stay and kick it but I'll catch you in court, you know I'ma fight it!" "What! Hold up Osama, don't be so near-sighted!" Before I snatched the ticket, the cop got excited clutched his glock and screamed, "Don't even budge bitch!" Thought he'd call Tom Ridge to tell him "flip the color switch" A white boy rocks a beard, he's consided rugged and if I sport one, I'ma threat to the public! "What you got in the trunk? Any guns-drugs-explosives?" "Nope, got some CD's though, you can keep as coasters!" "Where'd you come from?"- "Right around the corner I just rocked a show man, go ask the owner!" "Hmm, you had drinks, even 1 or 2 Corona's?" "Nope, i'm an organd onor, but it's too early to be one!" "You ever been to jail?" "Nope" - "Well you 'bout to be once!" "On what charges?" - "Any charges I choose fuck! DUI, resisting arrest, disorderly conduct" "Yup, guess I'm America's worst nightmare cause I'm young, brown and look MiddleEastern" "Yea, now get out the car, hands up, knees on the floor" I said, "My sister went to Seton Hall, I know about the law" he's like, "Dude, your face is probable cause" [Hook/Bridge] [Verse2] I stepped out the car, put my hands upon the hood the cop calling me names, insulting my manhood patted me down, found a box of Newports threw them to the ground and warned, "Dont make me use force" "Force for what? I ain't puttin' up resistance you ain't gonna villainize me to validate your existence" "Listen boy, this is routine procedure keep yappin' and I'll revoke your Visa" right then, my girl pulled up, right beside me jumped out her car and asked the officer politely 'What's goin' on here, leave him alone he ain't do shit we just on our way home from listening to some music" 'Mind your business" She proceeded, so he turned and started starin at her boobs and made comments, about the way that she strut staring at her butt, calling her a slut fuck, I reacted, jabbed his back with my elbow "Shit, fuck, aww hell no..." all along all this copper was lookin' for was a reason and I gave him one, "Assault" see you at the precinct [Verse3 ] I'm sitting at the station, cuffed to a cell Surrounded by browns and cold steel smell Wondering why, we crossed the dark waters With its past slavery, exploitation, slaughter Through the bars in the cell, CO's tossing ham sandwiches Laughing, treating us like savages But America's built on inhumane pain And I bet you felt safe when the Fox News came That Uday and Qusay Hussein slain ..to you we all the same if you black you sell crack if you brown you down buildings Timmy McVeigh did the same shit, yall killed him But you ain't trample the rights of your whitec ivilians Didn't harass 'em, or ask 'em for Passports, Visas Didn't freeze their assets, no search nos eizures While Bush is up on stage, quoting Jesus While the sons of the slums ,cuffed up on trumpedc harges Cause we look different, talk different, labeled as Jihadists ..back in the cell I'm nodding off to a drip from a tap, but this cats lyin in his own piss awakens my sense of smell, I'm still in hell a day later saw the judge, ain't have to post bail got release on my ownr ecognizance with a court date, no lawyer, shit ain't looking promising "It is what it is, kiss your wifey and kids And if they ask you better tell 'em, you might come back a felon Oblique Brown, Oblie-Oblique-Oblique Brown deep down, beat down by the system"
8.	Snapshots 02:59	lyrics	buy track
[Verse 1] When I die I'll probably go out like Charlie Bird Parker Cigarette dangling from my lips, liver swimmin' in Vodka Walk the path with have nots, where pain's snapshot Is an old massive flock, some sick with bad coughs Tryna sell me god inside a 5 train's cramped box Invoking folks hope sayin' "Praise the black cross." I wave 'em off, no talk, too stressed from my day job They still citing scriptures urging me to thank god I tune 'em out thinkin' bout the brand of scotch I cop from that middle eastern man who runs his shop Across the storefront church, beside an abandoned lot On a half built block, landlocked by despair December brisk air wouldn't risk to drift here Where hope floats from yellow crack pipes, spliffs and squares A riff blares in the distance and I'm forced to shift gears Intended this writing I'm rhyming to help me think clear But that song I hear in the distance makes me drink beer A lost love is remembered, Brooklyn rooftop: Watchin the sun dip west and soon due pregnant moon shot After hours pillow talk then sex till her legs hurt Waiting to see who said that four letter word first In retrospect I should have said before she had to blast off Promised myself I'd chalk her as my last loss Its years later, she's back home in some next cat's spot I'm sitting on the sidewalk, staring at the asphalt Talking to Ray, he said, "Chee, just take your mask off Seems your future starts only when the past stops And, she ain't the one who would fall for that fast talk She probably wont see you again, let that Jazz Walk And hope she takes this verse as your breathing snapshot." [Verse 2] In a sentimental mood, sifting through pictures accrued Through the past few years, stumbled on this wrinkled snapshot A brownstone on a Brooklyn block provides the backdrop She's sittin' on a sun-splashed stoop, her hands: crossed Hints of lip gloss trace a nearby beer can's top Halter top got me wondering where that tan stops Almond skin tone, make a mute man wanna sing songs Curves inspiration, for carvings on a King's throne She's half smilin', the flag of the island She managed to dance away from, stands at half mast Upon her bedroom's window sill, eyes indo filled Heavy and red reflect the strife of her civil war riddled Motherland, where brother's hand, widows wills And they barely flinch when it still drips with blood I take a step back and, stare above Thinking bout all the things I've lost including love History, hope, all of it captured by a flashbulb She asked once, if there's anything deeper than love I ain't know what to say, no matter how deeper I dug I know the answer know, but the chance to answer it's gone I've come apart baby, I've come of heart lately Trouble man no more, I'll patch myself back with this song baby one more glance at your face then the past stops as I stand up, (stand up) and crumple up your snapshot
9.	What Remains 04:38	lyrics	buy track
[Verse 1] Mom, I know you think I'm too cold for love Too old for hugs, who stole the rug? From under our feet, you used to watch me on the street Through the window in the kitchen where you cooking up a feast How we rarely speak now sit and eat in hurt, silent I wanna ask but life and when you stopped smilin' But, I'm on the road again this weekend You got a weary look like you just been weepin' Is it stress? Debts? Work and no sleep? Your once alert eyes now lined with crows feet Shhhh....I just wish that you'd speak Bout the life that you seek, 'bout the life that we had then You raising two kids, who asking where dad went You made a brave face and, packed up our bags then Moved us to America, you still jet lagged worked hard, no relaxing, they laughed at your accent! Damn you soldiered through everything life's force brings ........but I wanted more things cause Cory's got Diadoras, Rob's got gold rings I'm rockin' kicks you copped from a grocery store bin So I stole from your purse, don't know what hurt worse The fact that I stole or you couldn't buy me new shirts That's life you'd say, you made no excuses So I stencil in your hurt, these words will see you through it [Hook] If it hurts or it aches, if it burns or it stings Is it worth all the strain, all the tears that remain Through the years when the pain comes to claim what remains Cause it must be love. You trusted love If it hurts or it aches, if it burns or it stings Is it worth all the strain, all the tears that remain Through the years when the pain comes to claim what remains Then it must be love. You trusted love [Verse 2] Khalil, it's been a minute since we talked I'm sittin at this bar in Michigan sippin' a scotch Thinking 'bout our mothers and the men that they raised How we stumbled into manhood, on a road that's unpaved Some say with age comes wisdom. I think not Cause as I get older I just shake delusions off This ain't booze talkin' homey, I hope you doing good You took me under your wing like an older brother would Damn, I should have been there when your whole world shook Heard the cancer's eating her bones, I wondered 'bout your outlook You shrugged it off, or so it seemed and remained normal Stayed strong for your fam, your pain remained dormant Mourned in your own way, you? You here lifeline Patched your spirits back up. Respect death's design That's life I guess, you make no excuses So I stencil in your hurt, these words will see you through it [Hook] [Bridge] When the fan's and the shows and the girls go away Take a look around, what remains is the day Put it in a song just to give my life away To you, for you, to you, for you When the sun and the stars and the moon fades away Take a look around, what remains is the day Put it in a song just to give my life away To you, for you, to you, for you [Verse 3] Why we hurt those we care about, just to protect them In the name of love, unsaid words become weapons You say I don't communicate, just stay mum and stare I'm so selfish, I'd rather talk to drum kicks and snares And you're tired. Losing patience in this negative space .........see what I'm saying Silences, shoulder shrugs, we froze each other out For weeks on end, had me sleeping on the couch Till we both got sick, and you got up out the house Babygirl, it's been August since you left I ain't a changed man yet, I got no promises left To all the women that I love, who love me back though I fail 'ya Who understand a calm sea never makes a skilled sailor That's life I guess, you make no excuses So I stencil in your hurt these words will see you through it [Hook]
10.	Coffee & Cigarettes 05:20		buy track
11.	I Made It 03:57	lyrics	buy track
Verse 1] (Hey I Made it) through the stress through the pain through the mess that remains, so what really changed? Respect for that pain, etched in my brain Sketched all that strain, in a song saying (Hey I Made it) through the worst when I came '89 off the plane, cause the language that I'm saying so strange to those cats who tried to jump me on the train but if they came from where I came, they'd be saying (Hey I Made it) to American terrain home of the fortunate, arrogant and vain the shame that came with this improbable name lived my life through the strife, went against the grain (Hey I Made it) with two dollars to my name from the squalor where the squatters, holler in the rain all their daughters and their fathers steady calling for some change but the only thing that changed is this saying (Hey I Made it) without the fortune and fame through them doors where remorse is the fortune of the day where morsels is portioned, get orphaned in this game and the only thing to raise it hope coursing through these veins [Hook] Verse 2: (Hey I Made it) cause of Bam and Planet Rock 'cause Melle Mel added math to this language, ack 'cause rap came and salvaged, my damaged, bandaged heart when I left a famished spot and re-canvassed my plot (Hey I Made it) through the transatlantic cross Landed on this rock, where it's standard to get robbed Or shot or stabbed or, hung upon a cross for props or cash, when you standing in your spot (Hey I Made it) for the land of the lost where they stranded on the block, granted that its hot cause the cops got their hands on the hammers and the glocks go, (rrrah, rrhah) that's the language, that's the talk (Hey I Made it) for them dancers on 'ya crotch saying that you handsome, even when you not cause she raise a little man that's lampin' on a cot and she's sick of feedin' him pudding when the bananas rot [Verse 3] (Hey I Made it) for ladies who love rap for dudes who love that and run up their club tabs for cats who bought wack tracks and want their funds back for them rhymes on ya walls, posted on with thumb tacks (Hey I Made it) for the love of Sun Splash for New Yorkers in Yankee blue, fitted snug caps for my Cali folks, bumpin' this to a dub sack from the jump black, sayin you sprayin' that drumtrack (Hey I Made it) all for you so you could true it even if you different, life's emotions are congruent fluid, dudes say I'm sick with the music but who did the beat, Zeeb said (Hey I Made it) for my big brother Charles for Paul C, Dilla, and Mister Marley Marl with snares and kicks with my man I call Chirag and we'll do it till we make it man, Double extra large