There is an excellent article about the new Run The Jewels album on Vulture, 7 Prescient Lyrics From Run The Jewels’ RTJ4.

They’ve been featured in the NY Times, The New Yorker, and every music magazine and website out there, recently. Killer Mike made a speech in Atlanta early this week that has been watched probably fifty million times. (I hope you saw Mike’s pictures from Banksy’s Dismaland Festival earlier this week.)

This is an album that speaks to this time.

I love every single moment on this forty-minute work, but this song, pulling the pin, in particular, spoke to this old man who remembers the Cuban missile crisis, the Bay of Pigs, the assassination of JFK, RFK, MLK, Watergate, Iran-Contra, and every other work of devastation from the money-mad killers who have taken everything.

We will fight another day.

[Intro]
Yeah
Yeah, that cash
Yeah, take it, here

[Verse 1: El-P]
From a long line of the rancidest swine came the violators
The cloven foot designers of high crime for the iron ages
Twisting down through time, see them tryna unwind creation
Don’t be surprised, it’s a mistake to think their influence had faded
“Well, what a wretched state of danger we’ve made here”
I thought to me, perhaps explaining years of self lobotomy, toxicly
Perhaps explaining tears and even tears in my cosmology
You numb yourself for years and it can wear upon you, honestly
These old foxes got a lotta plots to out fox us (Ayy)
Tryna divvy up and dump in corresponding boxes, how obnoxious
Where the heart and mind connect, expect them targeting like archers
You will not travel towards the light if they’re in charge of your departure
You’d think the universe forgot us the way the cursed pitch their product (Woo)
As though our spirits’ not a fire that can’t be snuffed or turned to dollars
Or the expanse across all space can’t be contained in one small dollop
Now I see that it’s the same moment in history back to haunt us
And here we are again
Hello void, long time watcher, first time callin’ in
Every cage built needs an occupant
Got a dead bolt, see ’em lock it in
Had a good run but they stoppin’ it
Wanna Walkman in the coffin lid
Eat your heart out, fiction fan
Truly the truth’s the stranger document

[Chorus: Mavis Staples]
And at best I’m just getting it wrong
And at worst I’ve been right from the start
It hurts, I’m bein’ torn apart
There’s a grenade in my heart and the pin is in their palm
There’s a grenade
There’s a grenade
A grenade

[Verse 2: Killer Mike]
At best I feel difficult, poor and you pitiful
Then every day’s like a satanic ritual
Beautiful soul with the rogue and the criminal
How long must the holy hold onto they principles?
Kickin’ and screamin’ while watchin’ the demons
Collecting the gold and the diamond residuals
My pastor say, “God has promised us paradise
Live a good life in its pivotal”
I promised my mama that I would stay honest
But I want it all in the physical
And promise I’m honest, I’ll probably be punished
‘Cause keeping that promise too difficult
So picture me red as I sit on the bed
With my hands on my head and this pistol too
Why the fuck must I be miserable?
The devils, they do the despicable
And still, they move like they invincible
These filthy criminals sit at the pinnacle
Doin’ the typical, keepin’ us miserable
Takin’ the most and providin’ the minimal
Hate to sound cynical but shit is pitiful, times is just critical
Like Jimmy Saville, they cheerfully kill kids in a ritual
I’ll murder the miserables, I’ll make it all biblical
I’ll cut off their heads, they’ll beg for their life and I’ll put it on digital
Fuck the political, the mission is spiritual
Our murder is miracle, that was sent here to just punish through terror

[Chorus: Mavis Staples]
Static in my mind
Like sanity on borrowed time
Like right and wrong can’t be defined
There’s a grenade in my heart and the pin is in their palm
There’s a grenade
There’s a grenade
A grenade in my heart

Fuck it, here’s the whole album:

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