Scrap heap Challenge

by Ken Masters

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an ode to crate digging

lyrics

look at what i found on the scrap heap,
one mans' rubbish is another mans' phat beat
the drummer's a lumix, bashing the beat,
with a club, driving the rhythm from the back seat,
he's like a panel beater with a mad streak, a tad bleak,
sound pounds on tracks like an athlete with flat feet,
raw, rotten to the core like bad meat,
shit, divn't scran that, it's been there since last week,
scour through a yard of junk half drunk,
grabbing broken bits and gnarly lumps,
put it all together fixing up the hardest funk,
a vinyl junky on a bargain hunt,
for brick-a-brack, gems in a hill of crap
rougher than a bivouac, rappers sit back,
lazy day, scrape the tray, put the scraps in a zig-a-zag,
something out of nothing, on a mission like the iliad,
it's like Sinbad, simsalabim open sesame,
secret sauce, no one knows the recipe except for me,
the way the bass twang,
it could be a waste band twanging on a rubber band,
Clubber Lang punching hands had his hand in the snare,
kick the dog in the bollocks, recorded in a dragons' lair,
rare art from spare parts and knick-knacks,
caterpillar patta killer impacts with big tracks,
kick facts in syntax, hail mary,
unpredictable, results may vary,
remain care free, spit by the gallons,
exorcising demons with involuntary spasms,
underwater chasms, 5000 fathoms,
lives in the balance, organize like hammonds,
forget shit happens coz if it happens,
in a scrap for survival I rise to the challenge.

Kenny's ready to rumble like empty belly hunger pain,
Hip Hop nexus, connected like bus and train,
tag it up, collars of a black bomber jacket,
battle the buff in sas masks with back packs packed with rust,
now that's a pretty inner-city scene sprayed,
beats are mean and gritty, how many times has it been played?
it's like it's been gang-banged by Djs,
decayed and rotten and played out like cliches,
keep it real, hit the chippy when I've been paid,
get a deal, build a jiggy, it's the simple things these days,
that really float my ocean liner,
bargain bucket lucky dip, ten for a fiver,
it's like Blue Peter meets the A-Team,
form armitage shanks to armoured tanks, spray it green,
a touch of paint, maybe it's the maybelline,
but she's scrubbing up nice to make you look twice, making a scene,
dazed and amazed in a daydream,
make over for OAPs make 'em feel 18,
junkyard junky,
up to my elbows in grease, no way I can stay clean,
making of a machine from odds and sods,
ends justify the means and the long hard slog,
job's a good'n bob's your uncle, nothing wooden or plastic,
it's all heavy metal, every last bit,
fantastic 4/4s sound waves are tidal,
I rise to the challenge in a scrap for survival.

credits

released October 9, 2012
words by Ken Masters
beats by CraftmatiK

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Ken Masters Newcastle Upon Tyne, UK

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