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CONTROL (feat. Quentino & Black Smith) - Single

by Quay

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1.
[Verse 1 - Quay] The inferior wishin' they were equal This be your "roll credits", no sequel Let the slaughter spread amongst the people Your insecurity speaks, I can hear D'evils Who the fuck's this nigga? He think he can rhyme Oh, he think he got bars? Oh, he think he can shine? Oh, he think he the best cause of a few lines Let's see if he can even rap just one time... Let 'em know that Quay is Oklahoma's new smoke My lyrics be ass crack smuggling coke Dope shit don't fuck wit it tho Droppin heaven on ears, this just God's promo Got me cussin'... Lord knows I'm saved I'm Oklahoma's greatest... Lord knows I've slaved Not for the, dough, whips or the chains But to ride down to Hell, commandeer devil's flame Outchea channelin the spirit of Trayvon from the grave Every rapper and artist face Revege Reckonin' Day But look at me wrong, it'll be your Zimmerman day Bring your best verse you settle in I come thru, bring a seven in Then rest in, peace to the beat Goddamn, hallelujah...the beat just saw Heaven My God! How many ways can I articulate? I'll say it one last time for the ones that's hella late I'm skilled. I'm ill. I'll kill if you in the way Till they commemorate me, where the fuck's my holiday? Me and P.o.P. are the only hope for the OK Either get behind or get lined up--- no clippers tho' Still lookin' at me and act like you don't know? My rhymes jump yours comin' from that short bus painted yellow Flow so right a Klan member bet on me Lyrics so wet make lesbians check on me Like the old Steelers: no rapper ever get a pass Now excuse me, while I take my foot out the track's ass (Who the fuck's this nigga?) Shut your ass up 'Fore I get juvenile and back your ass up! Straight for the gut Square kick in the nuts Now who else want it wit us? ... Thought I was done? Nah, this torture for fun Hurl a MC; middle solar system turned you to a son What, that's too drastic? I'm the type that flick a quarter inna traffic And yell for the next rapper to catch it... Hahaha! Yeah... Quaynor! [Verse 2 - Quentino] (...and these niggas end up thinkin' that they ready for a real mothafucka! Though these niggas end up thinkin' that they ready for a real mothafucka... Y'all ain't ready for shit! I'm the livin' truth, mothafucka!) Young boy better get it, When it came to everything, I admit it But instead I just admitted that I end up coming in And end up making sure he felt it 'Cause everything I dealt been dealt with But I'm just sick and tired of hearing all of these lies on the same track That they end up putting me in, You niggas thinkin' you the shit All of a sudden claiming you was this and you was that Nigga, you wasn't even this or that! Shut the fuck up for once But I'm so sick and tired of your ass I decided to end up putting this shit on the fucking track When a nigga be going there and I end up adapting that But instead I can't take it, like a motherfucker made it You end up thinking you got that reputation Almost like niggas be United Nations Who is they to end up thinkin' That your rhymes are really killer? But instead you end up thinking that niggas be able to end up killing this shit When a motherfucker don't go all about it And say that oh yeah I'm ready I end up shedding these niggas like it ain't nothing at all Put that anchor upon that ball But instead I wanna be ballin' like a motherfucking basketball player But instead these niggas are a bunch of haters So with that I end up going like Darth Vader Straight up off that but I'm not evil You motherfuckers end up hearing of people But instead I be going like trio Almost like I got my Heat though, but instead I be looking like kilo Almost like them niggas compete though, but instead like me though But instead I be hitting that meter, Straight up off of that 9mm, Going off on them niggas that think that they be going off And then they thinking that I won't be bringing it to y'all But instead these niggas be thinking that they be ready for everything that I got Well you know what you niggas be thinking about the the way that I just rock pop lock drop Niggas, upon that rock, bah! Niggas be on that rock, tah! Almost like I'm top, line Who is they to rock lines? Always that nigga that be ready for everything Almost a bunch of them hearing about a part of my personification I don't really care: shred you into nothing but gray matter But instead you niggas be thinking of shattering glass Almost like the past did the blast from the past Or the rash from the gash, Y'all niggas end up kissing ass like y'all was kissing my lap! I'm the living truth MOTHERFUCKA!!! [Verse 3 - Black Smith] (Blaowck!!!) Microphone control like the square root of Eazy-E Cast the stones upfront 'cause the truth is hard to see Through the lens of a gen on heroin and PCP Though my lines less blurred, yo' vision still checkered, b Ain't no pawns on my team, we go by P.O.P. Fifth king on my side, loyalty's tremendously Ferrari Populairie, and his creative tendency Plus QUAY with his quill, capitalize the royalty Got Doo-Bay on the boards, scratchin' vinyls for the beat And my nigga CT tryna repaint the Sistine Now here we all are tryna rock the sixteen And that's the type of revenge that never tasted so sweet 'Cause they told a nigga once he not cut out for this shit Then I dropped S.O.D., now sheeple flock toward my shit I'd drop GALAXY now, but I'm too fly for that shit But best believe when I do, y'all turn to flies (cuh) I'm the shit! My word carry weight, so know the track has been ripped Turn the music up now and spark your lighters at 10 Mortar board been throwed since "Dark Fantasy" spins Nightmare come to life, thank Dion for the flip! Coolest kid from a city, that lost its head WAY back Took a look at the list, crime rites have made my place mAAd Reviewed the stats, violence outweighs our playback Still I hope these folks wake up the fire that the state has! Prophet not accepted in the town where he was raised at? The past repeats itself, but the present's where yo' pain's at My boot will always win against these packs of red and blue ants Try'n' extinguish all the flames I'm 'bout to set off through my rants Pour the liquor on you hoes, scatch a light, and throw the match I'm ignorin' all your screams--- third degrees are ya new tats! Yeah... What's in store is a concoction of bars and cars Mixed with pain, anime and some divine spark Make no mistake, my nigga, we out creatin' art Just hope your house is in order 'cause I hate playin' cards And if you down to ride, we shootin' for the stars Strictly by faith that we made it this far...

about

Publish or Perish crewmates Quay, Quentino, and Black Smith lend their own intense verses to the history-making, Kendrick Lamar-assisted single by Big Sean that set the Internet albaze --- not as a diss track, but instead as a response to a watershed moment in hip-hop culture and an attempt to stake their own claim in the game.

Quay's own project, the "Rehearsal EP," coming this December!!!

credits

released October 29, 2013

Vocals: Quay (@QuayChronicles), Quentino (@quentin_roberts), Black Smith (@J_Smith_Real)
Mixing and Mastering: Black Smith
Production: No I.D.
Single Artwork: CT (@YoursTrulyCT)

Shout-out to Big Sean, Kendrick Lamar, and Jay Electronica --- each a true lyricist. Thank you for the inspiration.

J. Quaynor, Q. Roberts, J. Smith, E. Wilson

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Publish or Perish Oklahoma

Kreative Tendencies.
Dube.
Quentino.
CT.
QUAY.
Black Smith.
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