No kings no gods no masters!!

Focus Beats

From Doomtree's 2009 release "FH:XV (False Hopes 15)"

www.doomtree.net

Mike Mictlan "OMG!"

Produced by: Cecil Otter
Additional Synths & Bass: Adam Pickrell
Additional Drum Progamming: John Congleton
Horns: Reggie Pace

Even after 6 months, NOLA was still a wreck
The 9th ward still had water up to your chest
Under I-10, they piled the dead cars
Ever seen an ambulance with high water marks?

They don’t dance no more, all we do is flinch
And brace for that old taste that chase a strong fist
With blood on our lips, and flooded bricks
Taste that whiskey kiss, born sweaty and free
Fuck a club, motherfucker, take that shit to the streets

We were born running away from God!
We were born running away!

10 euros is cheap for sure
He said it all in broken words, 
but these people ain’t got nothing
they’d rather drink what they have then buy your merch 

Čadca isn’t pretty, but Tatranský works
Thick liquor dark brown, made of secret herbs
Slovakia gets busy, they don’t need no words
And anything is club if the speakers work

Turn it up till it shakes the plaster
No kings, no gods, no masters
The beat builds while the euro collapsing
Little kids tagging “all cops are bastards”

AntiFa is passin, in they old jean jackets
They don’t need no magic just to make it happen
Make out, make do, make the best of what you got
And turn the volume up till it shakes the rafters 

Till it shakes the rafters
Till it shakes the rafters
Till it shakes the rafters
We make our own disasters

CHORUS

We ain’t no gangsters
We ain’t no thugs
We’re all just flesh and blood
And we don’t need you to mess this up
We independent son, dig our own graves
Salt our own lands, make our own plagues just for fun
You can test us come
We’ll be waiting by the front gate with the Beam in our cup

And I’m dumbfound how in my home town, when the cops come they all just run
And when the land lord wants us out, we pack our bags and shut the whole thing up
So I was like, “aiiight, what you do when the police come through to shake you down?”
She laughed out loud and said, “we lock them motherfuckers out!”

That’s a true story.

ALBUM CREDITS:
EXECUTIVE PRODUCER: Justin Vernon
PRODUCED, ENGINEERED, & RECORDED BY: John Congleton at April Base Studios. Fall Creek, WI
MIXED BY: John Congleton at The Elm Street Funeral Home. Dallas, TX
MASTERED BY: Heba Kadry at Timeless Mastering. Brooklyn, NY

Cover Photo: Cameron Wittig
HMUA: Romney Chan
“Florida Flag Robe” Designed and Made by: Lina Tillmann
“Handmade Helvetica” Font by: Andy McAlpine

Under Exclusive LIcense from Astronautalis to Cargo Records in the EU and SideOneDummy in all other territories.


Running Away From God

KURT COBAIN
Produced by: ICETEP
Additional Drum Programming: Bird Peterson
Additional Synths: Adam Pickrell
Horns: Reggie Pace

 All the cool kids in the North wish they were Southern So they wear boots and drink whiskey just like Waylon While all the cool kids in the heart of Dixie try to shake their accent Before they move to Portland  All the thugs dress like punks, 
With studded leather belts, denim vests, and they start skateboarding And all the punks dress like thugs with New Era fitted caps,
Snapbacks, white One’s, and some clean Air Jordans 
Kurt Cobain could smash all the guitars he like cause he was rich as fuck Just like John Lennon And these days, no one ever drowns in quicksand or dies from the plague Yup! The golden age is boring 
And I swore I heard Andre 3K say one day That rap was a young man’s game I never thought pushing on 33  Still making a living off of the things that I say  
But hey, Rap is dead, Punk is dead, we all seen that T-shirt When drugs kick in and it thumps like this, we’ll be dancing till our feet hurt And some old man is swearing, “Vote for me, it ain’t gone be worse!”  But I hate to burst your bubble baby…but it’s gonna be worse!
 It’s me first, me first, when Katrina broke the damn dykes What would do, for some freedom and a Klondike?! How screwed are you when our bosses all decide life Would better for them if they lay you off and say goodnight?  I had gun pulled on me by a cop one time And four guns pulled on me in Atlanta last night And what struck me as funny is that both damn times The conversation started with the exact same line!  “PUT UP YOUR HANDS!”   I’m from the state of the $20G rim 
Sittin’ up under a $500 lemon Pushin’ this whip, best be bringin your friends Cause you’ll be pushing this whip when it breaks down again  I’m from the nation of that war on drugs 40 billion a year, you can’t ball like us They bring in the coca, and we bring in the guns We kill a few soldiers and push the coke price up  Lucrative business, lipstick on a pig shit Yeah, the coupe is horrendous but the rims are stupendous Go ahead and pretend you know how to defend this Middle of the mall ball till you fall with a fake ass pendant  While you were waitin in line, to get an iPhone 5 So you blog some pictures of places that you ain’t been in your life Go ahead, and bump this on your Beats By Dre at work, staring at the sky My homies said, “fuck a business loan!”.  They stole copper pipe 
Rap is dead, Punk is dead, we all seen that T-shirt Drugs kick in and it thumps like this, we’ll be dancing till our feet hurt And some old man is swearing, “Vote for me, it ain’t gone be worse!”  But I hate to burst your bubble baby…It’s gonna be worse!
 So fuck them, and fuck this!  I’m going off to live my own life! What would do, for some freedom and a Klondike?! I’m fucking through, so from now on I’m on my All news is bad news!  Everything is ALRIGHT! 
PUT UP YOUR HANDS!


Kurt Cobain

Title track from the new Four Fists album 6666 - in stores october 12, 2018 
Pre-order today at http://smarturl.it/fourfists6666
Tour dates: http://doomtree.net/shows

@fourfists is @yeahrightpos + @astronautalis
produced by @letmode 
additional edits + arrangement by @subpyao

I ain't never been to war
Knock on fucking wood
Neither have you
So, we’re doing pretty good
I ain't never killed a man
Once I stole to eat
I knew I wouldn't starve
So, it’s all just make believe

I think I'm George Patton
Herbert Hoover
Speaking Shakespeare to the stones
And hope that they'll be moved by words
Turn rivers into reservoirs 
I think I’m...fuck it!
I used to think I was Casanova
But I crumble nowadays
Whenever I sleep without her

I used to worship “Papa”
Spanish Civil War
Fishing off the Keys
Bullfights and cigars
Man, that shit don't work for me
I'm on some, “Fuck Bukowski!”
Heaven help us if Isaac Brock was right
Turning over every single stone in search of signs of life

It's kinda nice!
Quiet life
Far from the guns of war
Run my fingers through the grass 
And listen to you talk
Sunlight in the curtains
Freckles on your skin
This is my Everest, this my Silk Road,
this my south pole, Shackleton

Yeah, life is protest
We are weapons
God damn, love like Arab Spring
There are frontiers
They are endless
And they’re in our everything

[CHORUS]
The sun ain’t set on me yet
I ain’t got much, but I’m not alone
Inside each life there are four fists
We are made whole through our broken jaws
Broken jaws

I'm ready, I’m patient, I wait
Wait…Wait…
No I ain't
I'm scared and I'm quick to escape 
“Yeah, he went that a way” 
Maybe flattered and scattering?
Or flattened and shattering?
Or collecting data?
I don't have an idea that isn't unraveling 

WHOA!
Free where the breeze will take me
Helium and balloon but no string
This what nobody wanted
We stuck so far under 
We so out of sync 
Just remember to breathe
Just remember to be
Just remember how beast you be
Reach for like anything 
Do that shit easy

Nothing comes easy
Just take it easy
Do what the needs be
There ain't no freebies 
Earn what you keeping
Or think they do not need me
Cuz they don't if you sleeping
Caught in the romance and drama of, “woe is me!”
Stopped em from catching they opening
And there won't be credits 
This won't stop happening, ever

[CHORUS]

I'm learning it never makes sense
And that's ok
That life is a weapon itself
With the sharpest blade

There is not a heaven or hell
Just each day
And life is a death in itself
And I can change

I'm learning to let go as well
It’s so strange
The past is a part of me now
There's no escape

I made up the bed by myself
So I'm sleepin in it
There is no erasing the past
To get back what I lost cuz
I ain't dead yet!

I ain’t dead! (x 1000)

Light Work

Doomtree