Get all 7 Fres Thao releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Mind Full Of, Daisy Dukes (Free Download), Storytelling ep, Cloud 9 ep, The Thought Bubble Mixtape, Blank Canvas (illegoaliens), and Hello My People.
1. |
Locked and Loaded
03:10
|
|||
Freeze frame, let me edumacate these weak brains
When the DJ flips the switch and the fader
Gets the beat booming like the big bang theory
Lock and loaded lock locked and loaded with a handful of ammo
Grip the handle, flip the channel, turn the volume up
If the nights right, then we bound to make you bounce
Fres on the mic, on the tables shortround
I step on the stage with the swagger of a staggering fool
Acting the cool one got some loose screws
Fed up, yea, but we headed towards bliss
With the death grip on the vinyl mat slips
gotta bad itch, so he scratch with the tips
And for breakfast we’d eat baby back ribs
But lack of finances and lack of cabbage
Makes this rapping - makes this scratching
Makes the passion, seem ever lasting
Digital feed back, error syntax
Keep you in the loop like a noose as your necklace
Give the respect and get the respect kid
Get the message or leave with a fat lip
Starving artists and we’ll give you 3 minutes
Causing ruckus shortround on the mix
Yo, I get my fix on, (is this kid on drugs? - shortround)
In a bit son, I’m only getting warmed up
Maneuver like a blue bird in the blue sky
When the crusaders meet – situation do or die
An un identi fied rhyming object of desire
Afternoon delight yea spark it with the fire
Rewire the explosives in the process
Getting nautious but never giving up kid
Sunny side up and no onions on the omelette
Use my gauntlets, toe to toe with these monsters
Locked and ready to go steady and focus
Options, never to fold, only to conquer
I’m the rock star on the third planet sun beam
Eating caviar like a fish in the stream
When the bboys and the bgirls dream
We dream in high deaf like 1080 p
|
||||
2. |
Paperboy Mentality
03:03
|
|||
Here’s the daily routine, get the paper, get the / green
way before the days he became a teen / ager
way before the days of mixtapes and pagers
back when the local arcade was the hangout
sweating and pedaling on the paper route
just to earn another buck, living a kid’s life’s / rough
but kid’s like / us / who fist fight / punks
give life two thumbs up and take a puff
yea, he’s ready with gloves on, prepared to do the work
heavy load on his back, ready to spread the word
see this kid weathers the storm, treks through the dirt
rain, snow or sunshine, it’s really no concern
back alley ways, he bikes on through the dark
with his headphones on, he straight ignore the world
and to some, it’s absurd and to him, it’s his purpose
gotta do the work, yea, he leaves it on your door step
the paperboy mentality pedaling half a sleep
crack of dawn grinding, riding through the streets
paperboy mentality, pedaling half a sleep
worked hard for mines, can’t take that from me
An early earning lad with a paperboy bag /
Strapped over his shoulder, 50 pounds on the back
Up early morning while everyone’s still in bed
In the heat, in the blistering cold earning his bread
Brought the latest scoop, newspaper rubber banded
If it was raining, slipped it in a plastic bag and
Deliveries right on time, right on point
The early morning bandit could not disappoint /
The paperboy mentality, paperboy salary
Fat shoe laces and back pack full of tapes
broken walkman with the volume maximized
He don’t speak often and seldom cracks a smile
Grease the gears and pump the tires on the bike
See him in the mirror, he’s a hardworking hustler
With the money on his / mind / gotta keep / grinding
Gotta do the work and get to class on time
the paperboy mentality pedaling half a sleep
crack of dawn grinding, riding through the streets
paperboy mentality, pedaling half a sleep
worked hard for mines, can’t take that from me
he work hard and play hard Up in the schoolyard
with a whole crew who stay out after dark
who spar in the parking lot of menominee park
in the boom box, ATCQ, bugging out
he leaving in a while, but for now, they getting down
out the morning after howling in the evening
circulate the wordplay he back while you’re sleeping
hop the curbs for kicks, toss it on the porches
growling at the dogs, stopping to smell the roses
the perfect sun rise, yea, that’s what gets him going
and he didn’t get an allowance like most of em clowns did
2 bedroom duplex with 4 hungry kids
pass me downs and fingers pointed at him
gotta do the work and this is HOW HE DID IT
the paperboy mentality pedaling half a sleep
crack of dawn grinding, riding through the streets
paperboy mentality, pedaling half a sleep
worked hard for mines, can’t take that from me
|
||||
3. |
Love Lost
02:53
|
|||
Lounging on the train - street SMARTS of mark twain
When the fog lift the bloodSTAINS still remain
I’m leaving home, on the ROAD, heading who knows -- where?
In the eye of the STORM nobody sheds a tear
No CARE in this life and no FEAR of this cruel world
It’s a fool’s choice to be living like WHIRLWIND - BUT
This boiling kkkettle cccconsist of ALLL that’s infinite
Mr FRES SAWYER digs deep, PROVIDES the anguish
Now the scores settled when the symphony assists
And the MISERY persist -- with the plot change and twist
The whispers that you hear seem to be what you had wished
And the grapevine delays TIME with all this fiction
Yes, it’s the addiction, a ppppurely ppppperfect rendition
A tragedy of -- your caliber to keep you guessing
That, I’m not your stepping stone, I’m solid concrete
The ink starts flowing and unfolds the story of the
(killer) got a rain cloud that follows me around
(See) the sun don’t shine when you’ve hit rock bottom
I’m a killer, got to get out of this town cuz the sound
Of the scream seem to keep giving me all these problems
I’m a killer, got a rain cloud that follows me around
(See) the sun don’t shine when you’ve hit rock bottom
I’m a killer, got to get out of this town cuz the sound
Of the scream seem to keep giving me all these problems
See I’m not a bad person, just misunderstood
With a bloody knife and a pool of blood on the floOR
It’s moore than the love lost, it’s the unspoken
Emotions buried under the surface slowly
Eroding into nothing, the blood then starts rushing
Wondering why it’s come to this, I malfunctioned
Let the dust settle, the thought bubble combust
And we’re caught in the middle of a romance corrupted
The MURDER of a MELODY – the Conductor’s passion
Turn another page to reveal the blank chapter
The loneliness we feel, lingers inside the absence
The message remains the same and everlasting
THE only way -- we’ll break way is through destruction
The love went astray, dazed and left disgusted
But underneath the murder mystery we gained something
Lock the memories in the dungeon and keep running
(killer) got a rain cloud that follows me around
(See) the sun don’t shine when you’ve hit rock bottom
I’m a killer, got to get out of this town cuz the sound
Of the scream seem to keep giving me all these problems
I’m a killer, got a rain cloud that follows me around
(See) the sun don’t shine when you’ve hit rock bottom
I’m a killer, got to get out of this town cuz the sound
Of the scream seem to keep giving me all these problems
|
||||
4. |
Whiskey
04:57
|
|||
So bartender, give me a triple shot to remember
A bit under the weather, down without the feathers
The blues got me, the boose is obviously
Fluid in the bloodstreams fuel for this body
Conversations, face to face I’m dazed and
Confused and amazed at the same moment I choose
To / erase / what I’m holding
The potion / elixir in the fist of the mister ~
Wizard of odd, with high, hopes and a pitcher ~
Crack open the barrel of the shotgun hero
Jesse james and the giant peach on the barstool
Glass on the lips of the one they call / a fool
Pass you a tip for feeding the cesspool ~
See up until it’s past happy hour I’mma stay cool
Small talk with a tall one til they hear me -
Bourbon whiskey, shot of scotch and beer please
Bourbon whiskey, shot of scotch and beer please
That’s all I need when I’m fishing the high seas
Cigarette smoking, polluting the air see
Bourbon whiskey, shot of scotch and beer please
Bourbon whiskey, shot of scotch and beer please
That’s all I need, a triple shot to fix me
An alcoholic and if you ever meet me
Bourbon whiskey, shot of scotch and beer please
Heels over head, dead bolts on the neck
Stitches in the forehead, holding in my / breath
Tongue bit with fangs, blood dripping and draining -
The life out the psycho angelic conscience
White picket fences, green / fields of nothing ~
Tumbleweeds crumbling, rolling over the hill
Seldom see summers that remain beautiful ~
Home of the landfill / garbage disposal
World on the shoulders, ready to sink or swim
Instead I come to a conclusion that / I drink ~
Sooner but later I might be needing to go home
Barstools warm / I haven’t gotten to know you _
Lady from a stranger with a short memory
Let me acquaint you with the taste ```
No vodka, tequila – rum - gin or brandy
Just a bourbon whiskey, shot of scotch and beer please
(Now) if you see me stumbling, it’s a sign of relief _
At the bar with another story to bore you with
The warrior with a holy grail full of grains -
The 80 proof with no chaser to the brain
Jim beam and Johnny walker helping me move on
Jukebox music player singing a new song
I’m a laid back fella so quit all of that yelling
Keep the drinks coming til the room starts spinning -
Hell in case you didn’t know, I’m on a mission ~
Free the soul from the mind frame and listen
Keep the train on track
whistling from a distance
Til the liver collapse, filling myself with liquor
dirty up the sleeves, you can call me hopeless
motto of the bold, illustrate and focus
I’m not just hungry, I’m a little bit thirsty
Bourbon whiskey, shot of scotch and beer please
|
||||
5. |
Bad Kids
03:02
|
|||
bad kids, do back flips on mattresses
Strike matches just to turn objects to ashes
Stay fresh, but they want us caged up
children of the war, the secret walks among ya
you see these earth worms --- fingers full of mud
In your apple tree, sling shot killing doves
Grizzly bear feet in the gravel til it hurts
Grass stained jeans, tee shirt full of dirt
Baseball cap, worn out dope sneakers
At the payphone, collect / calling to strangers
Fast to act real, with the bad kid attitude
Smash glass windows on classic automobiles
Steal tape decks cuz minimal pay checks
Got us craving for something we can’t get BUT
We not gangstas, we just tired of this racism
What can I say, we just raised differently
bad kids, do bad things with good intentions ~
learn lessons in a life that’s unforgiving ~
never spoiled / and never rotten
slaackers, we not; work with what we got
bad kids, back up the talk with real action
bad language, yea, we cause damage ~
put up your dukes -- get loose,
no silver spoon, just blood, sweat and bruises
Bad KIDS SEE, we didn’t join little league
Join the boy scouts, we just hung out in the streets
Sensory overload so we / learned to release
In the office throwing punches with the dean
Under street lights, spray paint, stolen / bikes
Way before mics was a part of this life
Earned our marks with fist fights in closed parks
Paid our dues with black eyes and cold hearts
close knit family, Swing with accuracy
No knives or guns see, just pride and energy
Let the skill speak, strength, agility and speed
If you feel me, then you let it all un -- leash
On the real see, our lives’ll never be complete
they can call us names in the street but they easily
crawling on their knees, they all in with a ---- bluff /
We the bad kids, THEY the kids WE call shmucks
bad kids, don’t raise our hands up in the class
stay absent no excuse and skip detention
no attention span for your trash and we clash with
prep kids and jock straps that think they fabulous
get your nap in, ya mama’s baby boy
we the bad kids, the type they try to avoid
in the bathroom, graffiti on the wall
skipping prep rallies cuz we not one of ya’ll
free lunch and cutting in line, see they bring
gourmet meals in-a paper bag and complain
bet it’s nice when you got real nice things while we
trading lunch tickets for buss passes and ice cream
we the bad kids live a life full of trouble
sugar rice water suffice when we got hungry
never take to heart IF they call YOU A failure
we the bad kids and bad kids stick together
|
||||
6. |
Gravel Roads
03:05
|
|||
I conjure a word - let it fly through the reverb
Hit the speakers - get it tweaked until the tweeters.
Pierce your ears, it’s the fever that I’m spreading
Bust the up rock, flares hit the ceiling
Get the feeling like the fingers on the record
Hit your white wall with the aerosol flicker
See, these knights behind me, blind you with the style see
Fat tipped sharpies, footwork do the smiling
Apologies not accepted for all those sorry
Toys, I’m a Bboy extraordinaire on thin air
It’s the fear you feel for me, that’s why I’m here
Sharing in your wealth’s not part of my agenda ---
We’re here to build our own, not trying to be a member
Ya’ll not ready for us, but we’ll keep it coming
and when push comes to shove, pull yourself up
see them in our tracks, caught up in our dust
See I been hungry, yea, I been starving
Had this dream from the days they called it art and
traveled the gravel roads trying to get the name known
Seen most give up and and hang up the lab coat
I’m not half way there, I aint mad that you don’t care
just on a mission to finish what I started here
hit the floors back first, hands still in the sky
it’s a court order, they told me to be fly
we keep the beats banging like nomadic cavemen
spin it then I spit it, contagious and salivating
hey man, wait a sec, give me a minute
I’m not here to rap in your ear, or get acquainted
I’m not here to piggy back or get your mans on the track
I’m not here to interfere, just reaching for the goodyear
the word coordinator, the extra ordinary
Stretch the vocal chords, the sith lord, fres vader
One hand in air like you trying to make a statement
Heading bobbing, shake the cob webs from your brain and
In a moment, you focus and feel the hot flames sent
Through your body, your soul, through the inner conscience
Yea I’m pretty wicked, the Brew Cities got me twisted
Sick with this - that’s not a figure of speech kid
See I been hungry, yea, I been starving
Had this dream from the days they called it art and
traveled the gravel roads trying to get the name known
Seen most give up and and hang up the lab coat
I’m not half way there, I aint mad that you don’t care
just on a mission to finish what I started here
|
Fres Thao Minnesota
I am a Hmong American poet, Hip Hop artist, multidisciplinary artist, activist and educator. My life long love of poetry, Hip Hop and storytelling has spawned eight albums, including Illegoalien’s ‘Blank Canvas’ and a vinyl release of my ‘Mind Full Of’ album, and one book, Lullabies for Happiness, A Manual for Love and Peace. ... more
Streaming and Download help
If you like Fres Thao, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp