Produced by Martial Impartial for the Hell's Heroes LP "It's Always Sunny Here"

Cuts by DJ TCuts (www.myspace.com/tcuts)

Recorded & Mixed by Acid Reign @ The Promised Land studio, PA

Verse 1 -
Foulmouth ruler of all I see through telepathy/
handed my infant son a mic to carry on the legacy/
The industry avoids me like I got a case of leperacy/
Think before you proceed I never leave without my weaponry/
mentally full circle man I've gone 360/
fuck it 720 ten degrees shy of shifty/
the game missed me & it never even knew it/
so I had to remind it and constantly reprove it/
kicked me while I was down and for it I've been through it/
Hell's Heroes kings of the mountain were not movin'/
A musical epiphany or miracle so to speak/
here to shatter the strong and console the weak/
the meek shall inherit a voice and stand tall/
constantly, move against the grain, fuck all a ya'll/
cats get put on and forget where they been to make it/
until Foulmouth reintroduces you to the pavement/

Hook -
The right tool for the job is all you need/
I got a voice, you got a drum, well fuck it let's proceed/
we can bring the industry down using it's own greed/
watch it bleed for awhile then give it back to the streets/
all these bullshit deals that happen between the sheets/
I let my fuckin' pen bleed & this sheet of paper speak/
destroying the mind games I feel I can finally breathe/
my job is only beginning no justice, no peace/

Verse 2 -
Sifting through mental wreckage the game is all about leverage/
the industry is the puppet master pulling my levers/
deciding what is hot and paying for play on airwaves/
my shit is pumped by underground heads who smoke in the staircase/
cats in search of true lyricism and verbal combat/
honeys tell me that my shit is deep after the herbal contact/
nocturnal like a wombat, mental giant when I stomp rap/
most cats would run from beef I sniff out where my fuckin comps at/
blowin' ya fuckin' laptop up when my raps pop up/
toss my enemies in basements let the rats chomp 'em/
stomp 'em as I'm droppin' words from Middletown to Compton/
wlak around the block like the crazy cat who's always talkin'/
to himself really scripting your demise/
talk shit until I pop up and you wanna compromise/
then I'm like a fucked up board game it's no dice/
heads tell me I'm so nice then put their hand out for a slice/
so from here on out they get the axe to the wrist/
and they'll have to ask their homo lover to pop cris/
fucking snakes I'm eating a cobras beating heart/
claim your tougher than leather until the bleeding starts/

HOOK