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historian himself - gweilo lyrics

[sample]
he’s in the devil’s cave, five miles from here. he uses weird flute music to control the fighting toad. it’s deadly. watch out for it!

[historian]
i came to hit you with a chinese five-finger ape knuckle extinction
swift implode your head like russian submarines sinking
on some double-blind clinical rhyme testing
we’ll see if them placebo-effect medicines can uncave your hollow head-in
old gweilo commencing with the swinging
arboreal
jungle vine tyrant heavy fang tendon technician
landing on you from the high ficus with ghosts in fever visions
equatorial
mythic swamp prowler toppling dugout canoes to consume victims
let ’em soften up rotten lodged in them soggy root systems

my style is h-ll creek formation meets warring states period
facial expression painted that rusty battle ship
grey griffon gunmetal serious
plus the barrage’ll launch furious
to pulverize the armor
see old mother got hungry mouths to feed
so we turn the whole fleet to artificial reef plus shark bait in the harbor
when them dorsal fins split the surface
we’ll see if they doggy paddle any harder

son of an old forest forgotten
stay pondering my looseleaf a burnt offering
glowing embers stay hungry
and the chief heats
hideout cave with the discarded parchments

shadow puppet swift in a rural village theater
traveling minstrel in an old robe with a ghost for a teacher
it’s cave song symphonics
and that cold ivory board these long fingers dance on is always honest
practicing stranger tactics in the deepest regions of that old cathedral
and i’m here to harvest the cobwebs along the bookshelf to weave a magic bowstring i draw back
to fire a flaming arrow into the unmapped vastness
preach of the fragile few known things
then retreat into blackness
before the day breaks like the long legs of a katydid
crumpling in the heavy jaws of an asian water lizard
that slithers down the riverbank

captain of a ship on expedition
to sn-tch an apparition
my style is a ming dynasty vase
echoing with the calls of a tree frog sheltered within it

lost in an overgrown garden
friends of fair weather get tossed by my whirlwind
guandao swirling through foul crowds
piling victims
while flightless rappers stay flapping their arms like decapitated chickens
launch through hidden causeway
thank the four directions for all those who fall prey
and claim territory for my tong gang
long blades stay tangled in the eight drunken gods slang
kicks land till ribs crackle
even on horseback you get tackled
and violent lion jaws neck-grapple
’til bone & tendon pop like the caps off snapple

i cough up a lung full of moths
in a dusty old shop where empty bird cages hang
and great gweilo is silent broad shouldered by ill-strated wardrobe antique
stalking with that sawed-off lean
the frog god king from misty lily pond that k!lls beyond the filigree screen of gently swaying fronds
and the god is heavy blooded and breathing leaping from tree to tree in the fog of an ever-shifting realm
fell the elm with forester ax-arm technique
sinking a hearty blade through the cambium layer you get slain

by window pane in dancing dust-frame light beams streaming
i’m the reason old timey coffins are over by the doorway leaning
my tangled talon fist lifts ribs to access organs
like stealing sodas with city kids
old sly grin in sinister staircase where paint flakes and i’ll take you there
if you’re keen to learn
of the termite swarms
plotting a sprawling city beneath yours’ floorboards
my roar cores rhyme writers like ripened pineapples and mother packs their slices in my lunch box
enough talk
i’d really rather feed you a heavy shin bone
as i leap from a shifting throne perched atop a pile of weathered river stones

my job is spurred kicks and crowing in the morning
parasites swarming in the equatorial forest
pumice is a lung shredding volcanic stone that’s known to float because it’s porous
and the reason my mt. pinatubo flow forces mcs to change their rap names to delores
and serve me waffles as i recline in a vinyl diner booth
black and blue, nurse a shiner and taste the metallic flavor of a freshly loosened tooth

and y’all best not skip a lesson
the junglecat core curriculum is geared toward twisting them ’til they snap
and fall to pieces like desiccated millipedes
and other such arthropod creatures
through dusty apothecary wander
before i saunter into the amber sunset
some’ll get crushed into powder and sprinkled on my flowerbeds
enough said

- historian himself lyrics

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