"You ever just sit in your car in the driveway for a hour?

Yeah.

That's the EP."

-Monrowe

Don Monrowe - Mansions on the Moon

#darkcountry #boombap #g-funk

Yeah… Tombstone, Arizona… 1881…
Dust taste like death out here…
This one for the Cowboys… and the ones who stood in the lot…[Hook – laid-back, sinister drawl]
26 seconds in the O.K. Corral,
Bullets sang like a funeral choir, y’all.
Smoke rise slow in the desert wind,
I’m your huckleberry… now the devil grins.
From Fremont Street to the afterlife gates,
Three men down, eternity waits.
Roll that funk in a black bandana,
Gunfight at the O.K., West Coast manner.[Verse 1 – Doc Holliday (talkbox & low croak)]
Coughin’ up blood in a whiskey glass,
Lungs full of dust, but the reaper too slow, never too fast.
Wyatt by my side, cold steel in his fist,
Said “Law comin’ down, better scratch us off the list.”
Ikept my coat long, hid the gauge in the lining,
I’m a Southern gentleman, but my soul steady dyin’.
Ike Clanton talkin’ big with his mouth run wild,
But when the lead start flyin’, that boy broke like a child.
Say “I’m your huckleberry,” that’s a guarantee,
Mean I’ll dance with the devil ‘fore he dance with me.[Hook][Verse 2 – Wyatt Earp (deep, deliberate)]
Badge on my chest but vengeance in my veins,
Morgan hit the floor, now it’s thunder and rain.
Virgil bleedin’, walkin’ crooked in the sun,
Told the Cowboys, “Y’all’s reign of terror done.”
Curly Bill laughin’ with that red sash draped,
Shot him by the creek, watched his smile escape.
Ringo want smoke, talkin’ Latin and pride,
Met him in the oaks; only one walked out alive.
This ain’t about justice, this about kin,
When you touch an Earp, that’s the original sin.[Bridge – slow, eerie whistle + talkbox choir]
Fly buzzin’ round the blood in the dirt,
Boots still smokin’, souls under shirts.
26 seconds changed the whole damn land,
Now every outlaw know the Earp-Holliday brand.[Verse 3 – The Cowboys (grimy, paranoid)]
Red sash ridin’, opium in the air,
Clanton clan deep but we livin’ scared.
Thought we ran Tombstone, coke on the mirror,
Till Doc walked in sick, still the deadliest killer.
Billy Claiborne ran, left Frank on the ground,
Tom bleedin’ out, couldn’t make a sound.
Now we ghosts on the wind, ridin’ Highway 10,
Whisperin’ warnings to the next set of men:
Don’t draw on a dying man with nothin’ to lose,
He’ll send you to glory in them hand-tooled boots.[Final Hook – half-time, funeral tempo]
26 seconds in the O.K. Corral,
Eternal funk for the ones that fall.
From the dusty lot to the California coast,
We still bang this tale ‘bout the heavenly host.
I’m your huckleberry… say it one mo’ time,
Close your eyes, lil’ homie, hear them bells gon’ chime.
Roll slow… windows up… let the bass breathe pain…
Gunfight at the O.K.… forever bang.[Outro – talkbox fading]
Tombstone…
Rest in smoke, cowboys…
Val Kilmer voice in the wind:
“I’m your huckleberry…”
gun

Jah Caplot - Movin (Ft.Top5Faneto)

Jah Caplot

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