The Dead Can Rap _ Book/Album

Page 1

Featuring Open Mike Eagle Nosaj from New Kingdom and Malik Ameer.

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Mike Ladd & Remi Rough - TheDeadCanRap Photo by Martin Ladd

Introduction by Roger Robinson You wake up slapped by old newsprint like big moths. Redundant headlines float on the breeze, page after page of tragedy, different time, same story, documentation of world hysteria. The machines have broken down, the soils gone sour and puddles look like weeping sores. Even now tragedy holds the headlines, I remember the guilt and gunfire, the unending circles of pain and retribution race against race, oil against blood, bullets against bone. Does anyone still remember that we’ve done this before? Cirrus clouds float like hairs in the sky. I feel like I know this place, every crag and crevice, every crushed car and carcass. I cup my ear to the wind and listen to voices, I call out random names, it feels good, reminds me of the past, I had a name once. It stopped me from leaving and never coming back. All the bitter years of squandered breaths believing them to be infinite, a fragment a history buried, the world slips from my clumsy fingers. This was before humanity changed now the headlines say we are all beasts. There is no poetry here.

TheDeadCanRap 1. Submarine zombie attack 2. Annual report 3. My little pony (Ft. Malik Ameer) 4. Influential 5. Imitations (Ft. Open Mike Eagle) 6. Real shit 7. The dead can rap (Ft. Nosaj from New Kingdom 8. Thirtytwothou 9. Bakelite 10. 21st Century 11. iPhoneRaps 12. Renaissance 13. God on opiates (Ft. Malik Ameer)

Annual report Done built yourself a Frankenstein. The shits not funny Gonna bury you in the mines. The shits not funny, bankers stole all our money Manifest this, I am your destiny You can’t escape it bitch there too many of me How you wanna kill it In the process the world will consume you Go ahead press the button doom gonna beat you. Do it You like it when we starving, survival of the fittest you say What you playing at? I’m about to come your way Koch all the way to Mercer, hurt ya You been shook for a century and we gonna work on your fodder The ghosts of the Bolsheviks down by Bacou holla Stalin on the stade with a bomb on his back you can’t follow While you crunching up your numbers and killing off the taxes, shocker Sailing cross the seas just to get what his is back Add it up, the numbers never match up, the fuck... Done built yourself a Frankenstein, gonna bury you in the mines. I think I need to empty out my mattress I used to go out with this gold digging actress Always pay my taxes, individual access Can you remember where we buried all those axes Bitch stole all of my money Spent it on shoes like a playboy bunny Shits not funny, huh, shes got the honey Used to live a life that was so egocentric Until the day when it magically ended Goldman Sachs, wax fully intended Maximum output visually rendered Hanging out with Siegfried and Frank Ocean Balance falling in perpetual motion Coulda been a lawyer, shoulda been an activist Now I’m just a hologram followed by an asterix Don’t ask where the master is... The Devil’s in the detail, Angels writing emails Exhonerating she-males, calculating pre-sales


TheDeadCanRap supporting M. Sayyid Soundcheck. Archspace, London 2017

My little pony (Featuring Malik Ameer) You know who I am tho anyway, you know the King of what? The king of style... History is filthy... So many my little ponies with razor blades and AKs no irony lost This generation ain’t shocked by a goddam thing, me neither Curing fever for change with boots and a rock through windows I got correctible mandables handling planets for alien animals Dealing manageable by capital cannibals still handling Hannibal Long after Byzantium changed the languages Judea paying damages payment plan tragic Two thousand years sassault by savages Resavaging scavaging mythology in the place of history The final human tragedy you mad at me? yeah you mad at me but you can’t get mad at my family I blame the old Romans and the Catholics B Five star Nazis you tasties Slipping out my urethera easily you blind bitches Fucking...

See I’m the type of guy who brings an apple to a gunfight I only complain if this shits not getting done right Enter the dragon now I’m entering a bun fight I’ll check the seasoning I’m hooked after just one bite Mentally I’m shaky but I’m still feeling alright Just a little nervous like a vampire is to sunlight I didn’t like that dude I had to press the unlike I know it’s awkward but we’re still having fun right? TV playing like an opera with more violence Yeah, I’m feeling angry but I still prefer the silence I can hear the buzzing through electrical pylons Walks just like a queen but she still laddered her nylons Krylon, Wet Look, iron on patch book Feasting on fat hooks, delivering some bad looks Watchu took? You shook the whole earthquake you fake Taking a break to make and masturbate, chaturbate, dislocate the mandate. And Unicorns are just horses with horns. See this is just semi like what I would call it but if I really get into it and start Camouflaging it I don’t think you even be able to read it... Huh? Can’t swipe or scan this Born brandless, banished from the Metropolis Nothing’s monotonous, all Eye got is this One-way ticket to Heliopolis Nine-hour hangover wit’ a layover in Moscow, No Nautilus= Phoenicians breedin’ with bredrin of the Oculus Moloch-Hop, hip ripped out the socket, who’s detachin’ me? Translucent mutants recruitin’ faculty to Out-Black me Eye’m Crimson Orphan of Annie, “Notice me= God, are you Okay?” “Pass the Orenthal until Ornette calls J’, all we hear is=” Inner Ear, thinner fears, no king appears Stephen leavin’ a beer for Sekhmet & old Queers Beauford & Vivien goin’ Mérovingien on hearts As the market gasps, Milarepa never laughs Thoth tossed the stash= Bond’s coins bit Flashes of saffron nights in empty lightenin’ in Thebes All we got is debt & this useless Post Traumatic Rappers Disease.

Malik Ameer Photo by Mark Green

Nosaj from New Kingdom

Influential You don’t realise your true potential Thats why you feel so... influential to me Never mind what they say it’s not true And I just want you I don’t care about the other people It’s all about You burn woodland like a proto grown man Clear cut villain reduced to a show man Show some grown man Everything been stolen There’s nothing left to steal But my two fingers of a bow man You’re right government always Slips back to monarchy thats right Believe that no king ever Gonna set us free read fact Your judean christianity Only function right on the backs Of those you think don’t Believe This heretic rhetoric is older than The snot on King George’s sleeve Dysentary to Damascus It started with the families You might the get the run son But you can’t outrun your history We might get the the run son But we can’t outrun our history No escape baby...

Original artwork by Maya Ladd

Imitations (Featuring Open Mike Eagle) I’m stretched out like the ropes on a chuck wagon Young storyteller flying on luck dragons I ain’t tough acting but it’s tough acting It’s hard to read through the lines with enough passion I come from BBoy fashion and bus passes I look around all confused like what the fuck happened The moons hollow it’s a real boondoggle Selling old kombucha in a new bottle I draw circles dressed in all purple Mos def like a four foot tall turtle I use it to pole vault over tall hurdles In 95 I first met my aunt Mirtle As a teenager in Seattle’s Green Acres My memories move like a screensaver My brains dark and my hearts in a spin cycle I’m ready to pop like bullets within rifles I wrote a spiritual manual and biz bible Buy in bulk twelve tees and ten vinyls And that thats an order Those are marching orders You gotta march to do that Where’s my nanotech pilots, vermillion violets With wind chimes hanging on the ends of your eyelids Making time to enjoy the silence Endorse the violence, listen to Primus Fantasy football footfall to hybrids Driving five hours but I’m undecided My destination hydron collided So divided and narrowly sighted Now we’re carbon heavy maybe it’s time to cycle And here I am between two blokes named Michael We may have lost the battle but we won the title Archetypal and I love all my rivals In arrivals at Gatwick airport With too many bags and I’m travelling barefoot Dealing with these idiots at every square foot Death tolls roll in the billions output Cheap Imitations and designations Relegate, devastate I hate innovations Wasted time on dodgy annotations And now it’s even too late for action stations Gentrification forced inflation Dishing out free sex therapy consultations Aviation can be such a bitch Let’s all rise up and eat the rich...

We always waxing opinion paper Dead Can Rap opinionated Obit in Op-ed exasperated No feet to facts but they syncopated Put it on tracks but we don’t debate it Slick with rhetoric Jive diabetic Intellect synthetic Tweet pathetic Twitter loads slower than my porn site So I don’t tweet but I freak right Like a white house leak Never air tight Like bluetooth beats Never pair right The rich out for delf Cuz world is fortnight Dim the porch light Strike at waist height Like adidas vs nike This ain’t a fair fight Culture war like so many before Revolution raw and loveless But this one here mostly bloodless Historically it’s been far more reckless Check Robespierre and Mao in comparison The right’s reaction embarrassing They overreact like we the latter ones Gives them an excuse to splatter some They got one tactic fear + guns Our strategy’s elastic 3/4 to 4/4 Or poly-time 5/7 we rise Clips on 2 if we got some We got em on the run For one reason Cuz we always on the 1

Open Mike Eagle Photo by Andy J Scott

TheDeadCanRap Photo by Michelle Morgan


Real shit Second to millimeter Not in the bullet feeder Seven five calibre Calibrate with the Haliburton We sit in the feudal system We tweet and we never listen Got one chance to break up the system With the present I’m breaking shit A chance we ain’t taking it The good thing about the lies Is how they destabilize Before the lines were really sly Not this guy forty five So now it be do or die Right now revolution time October in this state of mind Time to fight for the ninety nine One percent to the guillotine Burn the whole damn machine They blamed it on the refugees Sub prime refugees, Dow Jones refugees HSBC with the refugees said nigga please... Me I’m immigrant, third generation Post war, post wave, post immigration Levelling the constant elevation Making me smile is a forced sensation Non native, so radical, Quantic oh so sympatico Animal change just like manimal Human beings are all infallible I used to be so unreliable Nowadays I’m just socially viable Unclassifiable, undeniable And occasionally undesirable You’ve got yourself some personal issues Oxaflozane and a box of tissues Trying hard not to slip through the fissures Playing golf off the coast of Mauritius Yeah hand me that seven iron please... Thank you We got raped by a minority, stock broker crying babies They can’t take the blame for shit and since then we carried it And you know the analysis and still we rejected it And thats why we losing it, lets get back to the real shit Attack where the capital is Attack where the capital is Attack where the capital is Attack where the capital is Attack where the capital is Attack where the capital is Let’s get back to the real shit...

The dead can rap (Featuring Nosaj from New Kingdom), Lets go to work Lets go to work Now a lot of my friends are heavy drinkers Now I walked on Mars and never fell Spent my time in Mexico running from Hell I was trapped in sky for many nights Took my freak brother shugi with my DJ Mike People acting all strange when I came down To the ground I’m a stranger in my own town now Living off the grid with my cash and kids I might did it but I just can’t admit it Live and let die, spread your wings learning navigation might get out clean In this everchanging world that we live in The only thing I can trust is my motherfucking children Victory, Godspeed RIP Valhalla children are the revolution nigga fight the power Lets go now... She was cooking collard Greens in Pan-am I needed no more convincing man So I bounced from the Bronx now I’m dropping off kids and Smashing up their I phones if they use em in the kitchen Props to scotty but I flip like Horace Pippin Obsessed with high yellow like Beaufort Delany Coming cray like Colscott in a pooty movie ma daimy Blazin Juli Raja shirts at 8am drop off Puttin’ in that work just like a Rough or a Popov Wifey touching dem calves while she watching them Cavs Beneath The Raja Canvas and the Merimeko bags Cesar on the table and Dine in the closet But I always been a Bearden man keep the Bearden in Fam In Paris thinking Ferguson beneath the Amos Ferguson Wiley might be stylin but Walker still be on it son American artists gettin started But I strictly holler Raja, Kanishka the father of a style taken farther You gotta give the nod where you aught to From artist to father it’s a matter of follow through So Mike said we need to get the band back together Never giving two flying craps about the weather Do the school run everday rain or shine apocalypse drop em off grab a coffee run into the office its Mike Ladd, Nosaj and me upon this trail I’m trying to get shit done but dealing with fan mail And now it all makes so much sense It’s peak time living at a quarter to ten Welcome to your afterfuture in my Kingdom I need more Thorazine for symptomatic income And Paradise never comes cheaper than dominion I’m crossing my Ts becoming part of the system I could’ve been a journalist peddling fake news Instead I’m painting canvas and I’m watching the previews I left my graffiti wife to bed with Malevich Street art is dead and Hirst is a shallow bitch

Thirty two thou Bad cabana valentine bubble wrapped with Vaseline Drunk up with the cherry wine molly only 29 The rest is cut with turpentine stick to 9 strychnine Clock is ticking take your time engine engine on the line Enough about the telephone ET don’t live here no more I’m talking in a secret zone sand and dust fuck up ya drone Take it home you or ya own 32, 32, 32 thou feet aint that deep Leak it like she was dreary, sittin on the steel chair, eerie Cotton candy in her hair scary NSA just left her there My credo, duck all paedos If I ever go to Walpole give em the MCI steel Drop em in Schiphol detained by polite people Let him disappear between there and East Timor I aint shittin, what happened to renditions It ain’t like cats is finished we still in the beginning Who’s hittin in mission omitting the witness Whatever shit you though you saw aint nothing compared to the drop 32 thou 32 thou 32 thou 32 ain’t that deep Thirty two thousand feet no sign of metric Tantric tantrums esoteric Culture clash fast flash in the panDemic, totemic, totally human Desensitized harsh engagements Battle stations pure enragement It’s the end of the line blind linear tactics Brought to your knees with blind manufactured plastics Yeah, I think you get the picture It’s groundhog day but a permanent fixture Zombie apocalypse, empty opposites Last can of beans and your fighting over properties Artistic licensing cosmopolitan, urban renewal it’s metro-politan Preferrential essential opium credentials Suffering from lifestyle phobias 32 thou 32 thou 32 thou 32 thou ain’t that deep 32 thou 32 thou 32 thou 32 thou ain’t that deep 32 thou 32 thou 32 thou 32 thou ain’t that deep 32 thou 32 thou 32 thou 32 thou ain’t that deep

Bakelite Back in track you bitches... You plastic asshole Dead hectic from the bedroom to the car crash In the kitchen hittin where I got the whiplash Better than the tongue lash tug it til it goes flash Love it while you got it cos you never know if love lasts From country to country to city to city To money to pity to cuttin witty to witty Livin til you done shitty when she up in your business Like you was ready and willin but she painted you as a villain They vacated the building and caught you holding like Dylan No return the appeal and now you looking at the ceiling And the sentence is ill and you up in it still It ain’t the way inhaling plastic cake To take the pain away So bakelite, I’m bakelite So Bakelite, I’m bakelite So fucking bakelite Get it get get it get it get it get it get it Get it get it Get it get it Get it C’mon Oh wow! I’m feeling fucking fantastic Surrounded by my enemies and shit tons of plastic It’s drastic and I’m about to go spastic Crazy envelope I’m hoping everyone’s elastic Nah, you just couldn’t imagine The periodic table of diligent rapping My right to fight I’m bakelite The purple antagonistic aconite So bakelite, I’m bakelite So Bakelite, I’m bakelite So fucking bakelite

DeadCanRap juniors.

21st century reflection Yeah, nearly fifty, boarding school refugee Keep our message off connected to the family If we done mashin better don’t text me If you need to fantasise close your eyes and think of me Dirty old man calling on variety If I went to the gym and waxed I’d be creepy You nodding your head like facts got you thinking You playing them jpeg tracks... gettin Off on insults nod to the insults live for the insults Two legs and a walking insult fuck you with an insult Right of passage insult walk up by an insult Governance by insult Lucky that I moved from the land of guns Had one to my temple more than once Bite my own hand in the darkest months Yeah by my own hand in the darkest months Black man in the white guilt clan Cryin in the bath tub shower on kid’s will understand But they’ll still be fucked up Better get that therapy payment plan if you give a fuck 21st Century reflection nihilism versus dejection Apocalypse deflection via self obsession Apocalypse deflection via self obsession Welcome to the bathing of celebrants I’m trying to retain a modicum of cultural relevance It’s hard as an artist with limited elements All they seem to care about is subtelty and elegance And I can taste the sediment of human erosion The blurring of lines between love and explosions In Paris, London and even Aleppo All these parasites being killing our planet since the get go Now it’s on some other entertainment Youtube, Twitter or some social engagement And meanwhile I’m working on another arrangement And everything’s going so well to my amazement? I couldn’t stand the talk and hypocrisy Now I’m fully endorsed but how much is this costing me? It’s lost to me, I’m surrounded by Kaws toys Living on a planet all infested with war noise From Theresa, Khomeini, Donald and Kim Exit the Brexit the outcomes horrendously grim And the chances of peace are incredibly slim Now I can only tell myself I’m so much better than him 21st Century reflection nihilism versus dejection Apocalypse deflection via self obsession

iPhone raps See we’re all writing raps on our iPhone 8s And it’s great debating Kafka in unconscious states And I’m late for my own concert at the Pyramid Tate Inflate... deflate... Crossing seas like a dinghee full of refugees Even my enemies can’t see the forest for the trees And these days frieze frames take away our free names I’d rather just escape with my own fleet of sea planes In the 80’s it was Krylon enamel Whilst the evenings were spent with Chewie and Mark Hamill And my daughter really seems to like the same shit that I do We read the same books, it elevates her IQ Pancakes and avocado toast on the weekends We drink milkshakes and search for the geek trends Live in the sleek endz looking through a rose lens Getting the bends from swimming with our old friends Swimming with our old friends Too much screen time, we writing on our iPhones now But hey thats ok Too much screen time, we writing on our iPhones now But hey thats alright Swipe n’ like tag n’ type Clicking right till you right Always wore Adidas but they photoshop in the Nikes Everyone iconoclast all will follow to the last Drink the Kool-Aid get the gas date rape via snap chat Selfie slap you in line FSB got your mind Nazi meme inclined parties all flipping sides Black is white corporate pride white is black down upside Connection to cortex iPhone synapse connects Invest what you thinking next Apple owns all that shit Your fantasy to nightmares economic crosshairs Doubtful that we prepared thought and water The new market if you got it Better stock it put your tongue up to the sky Mind control do or die they’ll even help you wonder why Cambridge Analytic-a been here since the biblical Micro-chip chia pets dominatrices with a selfie stick You willing to put up with it no harder than a pin prick Got you screaming brexit you even think you meant it Red hat crippled dick fossil fuel to lithium Too much screen time, we writing on our iPhones now But hey thats ok Too much screen time, we writing on our iPhones now But hey thats alright

Renaissance There’s too many pheromones Milo on my headphones Open Mike Eagle now I’m dancing in my inner zones Remember when we used to speak on telephones Remember when the food we eat didn’t change our chromosomes And everyone is medicated on ritalin Everyday consumption like it’s just a simple vitamin I excavate the synonyms tell em that I’m feeling em Drugs are in the populace cos everbodys dealing em I spent the weekend with the finest young cannibals Finding myself and praying to spirit animals Get lost in the mandables Oh shit it’s so valuable Wake the kid up, make her breakfast Buy the wife a brand new necklace I’m too old to be acting reckless My possibilities are so endless Kill your idols, check your vitals Dying poets with dead recitals Know your title you’re acting frightful Mike Ladd’s raps are so inciteful We all recycle for our survival Just keep it damn delightful Oh so damn delightful Clocking my watch for the gun cock 30 years deep rock long coat wool socks Canned food in the shop hand soap to wash it off Nitrate in stock cordon off the whole block Establish a perimeter patrol with a millimeter Who I’m kidding I’d be canon fodder Float a boat if you got em Idaho Nihilists surplus howitzers Devour who the want within a certain radius They never playing it’s time to re-enlist Review the list check who’s infiltrating shit It’s all gone poisonous just when I got comfortable Typical political twisted facts what happened to terror attacks Looks like Saudi’s back or they never left Someone wrote the right check Alex Jones so confused Ain’t no noose on his neck Fuck a victim crackers can’t listen It’s not in they make up the never make up They here to break shit rape and take it Paying dictators with bitcoin and paper Nigeria now Angola later Now China in favor you lose some You win some one that always won? The inner kingdom

God on opiates (Featuring Malik Ameer) Riding up escalators listening to soundtracks In airports train stations The sky out the window On an elevated crossing the Potomac Or the east river a release from the city then back into the tunnels The underground open spaces Our soon to be Prairies Tokyo to Osaka a glimpse of mount Fuji Get a tease take a tease At ease with what used to be Listening to Tom York while reading Fred Moten Should be Arthur Russell No I didn’t say Monk But Monk will permeate Marinate then meditate On interstellar space Alice chemtrails traced Traversed currently by Sorrey I tried art crit lit as a eulogy Yeah I failed miserably Took it back to the subway Earbuds don’t fit me See soundtracks reverberate Regurgitate non fiction Till the material is fiction Like the truth from a shaman Start the countdown The race is in position Launch

Blue jeans, brown shoes and very white t-shirt Everything remains simply the same but now my feet hurt Not twenty four seven but I’m still trying to be on it Just look in the mirror you’ll see a whole new adonis With sky blue, plum and a deep dark vermilllion Thinking in colour like the other half gazillion Pleasantries momentarily being heavily influenced by me... I paint graffiti on walls as a statement of rebellion The Brexit bystanders ending up as sheer carrion Having a two man red hoodie as my alternative angle I wrangle my way through these political mangroves This is just far too fantastic! Tantric mantras keeping the classics elastic Bombastic Britonians eating hot chicken shaslik And there we have it.... You reap exactly whatever you sow Karmas a bitch bro Eye am with Withdrawal Pit’s sprawl= cliff’s fall= tripped calls “Yo, that order’s tall-” “U sniff, Eye snarl…” Border wall= Up in that Northern brawl With them Southern shawls draped over Shoulders older than Lucy’s great grand’ You make plans, we break ‘Klans Palm readers still shake hands “Sit down, Rap!” “-Eye’m young with It, no FreudThey so ‘groid, the voice stay ex-androids-” Now Sophia mackin’Whatever the Sagrada Familia’s lackin’ is bound to happen “-Yo, Eye used to cry Saturn Now Eye be downin’ them Black & Tans When Eye’m the old man that Eye used to be then- no greys/graze” Dodge strays, Plymouth serve trays/Trey’s113th street endless= Malcolm Little gimmicks Granny’s Texas grimace Tin Pan Alley men in gowns= Washboard Rap water-boardin’ Pisces ex-wife, still borin’ “You know, Neitzche’s dead & God’s still snorin.”

Bill Halstead Harris 1933 - 2020

BLACK/RED By Halstead Harris

1. Submarine zombie attack Written and produced by Remi Rough and Mike Ladd 2. Annual report Written and produced by Remi Rough and Mike Ladd Additional production A La Fu 3. My little pony (Ft. Malik Ameer) Written and produced by Remi Rough, Mike Ladd and Malik Crumpler 4. Influential Written and produced by Remi Rough and Mike Ladd Additional production A La Fu 5. Imitations (Ft. Open Mike Eagle) Written and produced by Remi Rough, Mike Ladd and Mike Eagle 6. Real shit Written and produced by Remi Rough and Mike Ladd 7. TheDeadCanRap (Ft. Nosaj from New Kingdom) Written and produced by Remi Rough, Mike Ladd and Jason Furlow 8. Thirtytwothou Written and produced by Remi Rough and Mike Ladd 9. Bakelite Written and produced by Remi Rough and Mike Ladd Additional production A La Fu 10. 21st century Written and produced by Remi Rough and Mike Ladd 11. Iphone raps Written and produced by Remi Rough and Mike Ladd 12. Rennaissance Written and produced by Remi Rough and Mike Ladd 13. God on opiates (Ft. Malik Ameer) Written and produced by Remi Rough, Mike Ladd and Malik Crumpler

DeadCanRap zombies Illustration by Jason System

Thank you to all the wonderful people who have helped us put this project together... Malik Ameer, Matt Moat, Jason Furlow AKA Nosaj, Open Mike Eagle, A La Fu, Jerome at Airlab, Jason System and our amazing families for their constant love and support. Also thanks to the true believers and cohorts... Juice Aleem, Part2, Kwame 4Eye, M.Sayyid, Priest, Beans, Rory R.A.P. Ferreira, Carlos Mare, Stormie Mills, Roger Robinson, Steve Elmes, Hemlock Ernst, Fred Ones, TME, Guerilla Grooves, YoungBlood Brass Band, John Kennedy, Juice 126, Diarmid Scott, Steve More, Augustine Kofie, Jerry Inscoe, Jaybo, LX One, Timid, Jason System, Rob Sonic, Run The Jewels, Amaechi Uzoigwe, Madison Washington, Charlie Dark, Tony Nwachukwu, Part2, Elucid, Billy Woods, DJ Preservation, Robin and Will from Bodies. Dedicated to the loved ones we have lost in recent times - Marquita Morgan, Bill ‘Halstead’ Harris, Ben ‘TY’ Chijioke, Kanishka Raja and Robert Proch. This album is also dedicated to all victims of state sponsored violence worldwide! Written and produced by Mike Ladd and Remi Rough with additional production by A La Fu @onetwoalafu Guest vocals by Malik Ameer, Nosaj from New Kingdom and Open Mike Eagle All tracks mixed and mastered by Jerome Schmitt at Airlab. @theairlab Book design by Remi Rough and Mike Ladd. Printed by Ripe Digital. Additional artwork by Jason System @jasonsystem Photos by Mike Ladd, Remi Rough, Jason Furlow, Michelle Morgan, Andy J Scott, Mark Green, Kwame 4Eye, Martin Ladd and Michelle Morgan. @thedeadcanrap @likemaddladd @remirough Guest vocalists @malikcrumpler @nosajfromnewkingdom @openmikeeagle @defpresse TheDeadCanRap © 2020