Look Up Motherfucker​!​! [EP] (2011)

by The Department of Public Safety

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1.
2.
02:40
3.
03:21
4.
02:28
5.
6.
7.
03:40

credits

released July 8, 2010

Words: p-teK
Sounds: Grandpa Seth

all tracks McKinney/Protextor except #5 McKinney/Protextor/Roberts/Sakamoto

Recorded at Klaw's Kastle in Austin, Texas, 2009-2010

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about

Protextor Austin, Texas

Emcee, writer, performer, talk show host, Prince superfan.

Member of SPACE CAMP DEATH SQUAD, founder of Austin Mic Exchange & Weird City Hip Hop Festival.

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Track Name: The Department
Take it back to the basics
Department of Public Safety, bitch no time for a facelift
Basically a mage to make some entertainment to change the feeling of caged-in for laymen
(ha ha ha ha, haha ha ha ha ha)
You wanna party, aw, find a party dog time's are changin'
We used to play house parties in the basement
Now we party in the lot at the Day's Inn
Just face the sad hard fact, it's amazing
Looked for a backdoor trap or way in
I used to backpack rap to attract fans
Now we groove the beat like you s'posed to for the rap fans
It used to be to prove yourself you pack the rhymes close
A B A B CC baby breathe in through your nostrils
Nobody cares how well you rhyme if you be out of breath
So just spit first, maybe later you can count the checks

This is
The Department

Grandpa Seth plays the Terminator X
On the mic is yours truly by the name of teK
Bust the vocab--the words can break up necks
With the beat the feeling's better than make-up sex
Take a guess
Where it's from, Midwest
But not the sad, monotone, self-deprecating Midwest
Or some weed-rap nerdcore, speed-happy herbivore
cab in the snow cell-block awaiting Midwest
This is not two minute intros beats that never end
This is not skits or answering machine messages
This is not spoken word or mean death thr-eats
This is not hell-bent or heaven-sent
This is not an angry message to the President
This is not testosterone, this is not estrogen
This is a departure
Not adrenaline
A sharp word
Not a nemesis
A partner
Not good penmanship
A carver
Not a residence

The Department
You can find us kickin' back on the farm, sure
We'll bring the new shit from show to show
But never get cocky or you find yourself floatin home
The Department
The kind of hip-hop you weren't sure was on the market
We bring the type of sound you been dyin' to hear
Somewhere between a pioneer and a pint of beer
The Department
The Department
Track Name: No Mystery
If you wanna scare me you can make your monsters not gonna faze me
I'll have you swear this whole place is haunted
the staircase and closet
railways and office
baby I'm taking off
for you I'm saying, suerte mas fuerte manana
and this may be persona
yes I may be a show-off
praying to Lady Madonna
I don't mistake the don't-walk
sign for go ahead
and get pwned and
so I tread this road solo
but with an open head...
knowledge is pouring in, how do I filter it?
if knowledge is power
how do I own it but not lose its innocence?
a powerful synthesis
the crowd as my witness
shout it loud and proud and don't trust their litmus test
don't run I ain't finished yet
Shogun with the rhythmic
slow-mo solo I go for broke when Seth's spinnin' it
so defrag your minds
and open your drives
I'm the ghost who came to drag your ass back into the spirit realm.

Ya see there's no mystery
in it for me
You can't trick this emcee
no sirree
You see there's no mystery
in it for me
So just spin those beats
and gimme please

Remember beats, rhymes, and life?
there's a difference between live and LIVE
emcees wanna let it die
so long as they got their pockets lined
You ain't emcees there ain't no personal touch
5 hooks in one song, that's a little too much
At your shows all I hear is fuzz
Don't count to move crowd when the crowd is drunk
Now I'm crackin' on the glass to bust the vacuum
Snap your mic in half and have at task your wack moves
Now can you fathom this a master actually can move those
wacky kids you had to trick with dancy Britney track moves
Maybe the fact is that I'm from another planet
A denser atmosphere, a faster tacit sense of madness
Tragic that down here you have no grasp of language
So better lend your ear, because the magic trick's as simple as

there's no mystery
in it for me
You can't trick this emcee
no sirree
You see there's no mystery
in it for me
So just spin those beats
and gimme please

You see there's no mystery
in it for us
It's just trick or treatin'
from dawn to dusk
You see there's no mystery
in it for us
So just spin those beats
and listen up
Track Name: 13
This is the dream you cannot awake from
where the screams are only what you make them
scenes and scenes are playing like a rerun
And the floor doesn't budge where your feet touch
See this palace is crum-ble-in'
Alice took the rabbit to Wonderland
but you didn't bet on malice in munchinland
towering mushrooms and
flowers with mouths and hands
Behind you there's a fountain that flows with sand
And up ahead there's that fork in the road again
You need a guide, and I'm the only man
who has a chance to defend you and your soul so grasp
my hand
walk with me through this savage land
but if you lose the beat then the show will end
curtain closes the flows will be ghosts and dead
because I know the road but not the way home again

Now lemme break it down just to prove I know what I'm doin'
and maybe I'll make the crowd up bust a move with all the fluent
landscaping and paving of the sound, just trust the muscle movement
don't be fussy love just do it, and hush up the fuckin' students
the haziness and the pace of it's rushed but the tongue is loose so
the main idea of the game is when I bust
I am a shoe-in
better tuck those boots in
we're headed up to the ruins
that's menace, plus the Fu Manchu
whaddy'll do man?
this is the truth
the zoo,
smell what we're brewin'
whew
I guess I'll tuck the gun holster the six-shooter
most of this shit's stupid
now what was the big brew-haha
what was the ooh-lala?
yes it is true that I
have come from the moon to find
fix and behoove your mind
Lose, losing, lost
Will I get through this time?
Not likely.
fruitless juice for the juvenile
Root you out and shoot you down
boom! ha!
Track Name: Do the Math feat. Maren Roberts
I toss and turn another night in a row
trying to slow my mind down
but the violence withholds
am I goin' psycho?
runnin a million miles per second
with indiscretions tempted to break the bag
and light a bowl up
right this second
the medicine will soothe me till I'm
ready calm and collected
already bombed as a crackhead
let's put this all in perspective
what I said about regret
and repentance...
I never meant it
but
don't let me dive headfirst into the morgue again
the porn and sin just feel so warm and slick
4 am bent over the porcelain
shake it off baby cuz it ain't mornin' yet
I wanna ooooh all o'er again
the pleasure and flesh until I get me some rest
no more sportsmanship and your glory man
I'll sting myself to death to penetrate because
I am the scorpion.

Do the math
The beauty of your soul is burnin'
Do the math
Sweet resurrection
Do the math
This crazy world just keeps on turnin'
Do the math

Fuck this evil shit!
I stand upon my pulpit
with a penal fist
Judgment waits for all ye who enter here
stalling these bitter tears
my calling it is right here
wound tighter with more precision than a Swiss watch
hip-hop has been God
ta-tick ta-tick tock
since he was this tall
I better finish this brawl
used to think it was my flaming sword, that it was the end all
I'm gonna preach to the masses
send 'em screamin' salvation
the whores who babble on in Babylon
I'll teach the nation
I'll reach the rapists
a feat I'll take on just to be the savior just to be the new God
it's the cleanest fake-out
a moral high horse made outta treewood
a chorus of my quotes to lay down the evil
I'm dangerous see-through plainly a trustworthy creature
I'll smite you with my words
for I am the eagle.

I change my costume
but I remain the same
The face I wear
daily and the face I paint
We spin around the sun
till the shadows look flattering
Chase the days
til we forget that we're patterning
I don't like the face
that razorblade makes
you can use it to kill
or you can take the pain away
we spin around the sun until it comes to awake us
I just don't know whether to resent or to praise it

It's time to rise from the ashes
to metamorph to the phoenix
to blend the logos and pathos
into a born-again fetus
into a form of release needed
to condone elitism
with discreet hedonism
start shrinking these prisons
self-destruction
and self-realization
within the same person
it's like a Hell without Satan
it's a swell undertakin'
oh gee I know it's not easy
Jean Grey I'm hearin you baby
now strike the match and release me
Track Name: Ice on the Fire Escape
I'm hiding and scrapping underneath the stairs
Cuz I can't find another habit to release the stress
and I have had it with the blackness and the bleakness here
Tired of rapping in my caddy to other people's shit
weaker lyrics
than I pack it's just the ease that gets
me repeating like a pair of parrots,
p-teK's here
it's time to fashion up a mascot, cheerleaders to cheer
That egg's been crackin' on the skillet for at least a year
So hack it,
Sit back with it,
Crack in
Mash the mash potatoes and don't subtract the skin
I'm back again
That fantastic pack of the saccharin
passionate raps again
without the nasty trap of the caloric fattiness
but with the caffeine tabs for the master of machinists
I'm also oh so past all the crap and the wackiness
So let me show you cats that I'm phat and let that be this
I'd be quite happy if
you'd catch my drift
but this hype track's gettin' to be the type that I can't stand
Lifeless mannequinism bites and injures the fans
This kind of transmitted symptom flies when shit hits the fan
Alright, I'll fix it again but why does it never end?
I'm tired of fightin' rich little kids with pencils and pens
But the mic is in my hand
So I guess I'd like it if you'd stand.

I'm trapped inside of my head for days
an asinine lapse of time
a left reprobate
I'll grapple lines the fastest here comes the end of days
So pass the mic
to Adam like it was a singed potato
here we go now here's the showdown
don't you tempt the great
great scott
your flow's predictable like women's menstrual states
hey this is a great place to start a dialogue
so toss a firelog on the fire, put down your firearms
This is my new God his name is Mike and he's a microphone
He's gonna help decide which side is right and yes, which side is wrong
A true American stare-down, so get your blinders on
I like to write my songs at night alone when all the lights are off
Let's tip-toe this beat real slow in fear of writer's block
and ride it gently like I don't want it's hymen popped
Ok, enough vagina talk,
This is my new car I'm driving with you in the back on childlock
Would anyone relate if I
said there's ice on the fire escape tonight
So it's not a good idea to escape the fire
Despite the fact it's burnin' down the place tonight?
You might slip, fly off and break your spine
And wouldn't you rather be in flames tonight
Grandpa Seth and I agree so we replaced the fire
extinguishers with gasoline-
what a way to die!
Track Name: Look Up!!
You're corporate
44th floor win-
dow and big floorplans
ooh, a silk throw pil-
low and twin armrests
Toes in those moccasins
Nose in the rows of snow
mixed with bottled gin
Floors below snow
blows in the howlin' wind
Oh so cold
blow for blow
you stand watching it
Focused on not a bit
but your consciousness
Though you don't notice
the snowglobe that you're watchin' in
The glass is too clear to see past
And those cracks in your mirror
matched all the years
of having to beat back
Now you lean back
And count up the greenbacks
The laughably crass math you've patterned to mean that
you're somethin'
you need to be patted on the back
You're humming
our beat while we're watching you eat pal
We're starting to beam down
Apocalypse dreams
So start runnin'
Funny, you never saw it comin'

Look up, motherfucker!
See you thought you owned this town
Look up, motherfucker!
Oh so you notice now?
You're just an ant to me
You're just an ant to me
Can't you see your fantasy is broke down
You're just an ant!

We arrived from the Gemini system
Tapped into your feeds for the satellite pictures
Patched all the links to establish our vision
And grad-u-al-ly made a macro-sized image
Patches of green seemed to be where you lived in
Concrete snaking like veins in the distance
that slipped into trees with willful persistence
Then bent and retreated back to civil partitions
You called them roads and they carried the blood cells
Ferried the lunch-pails back to hungry and numb jails
You called those cities if I recall our arrival
We were all about observing
You were all about survival
What tremendous conceit you possessed
You thought sentiency meant you were blessed
So you tinted the green to be gray like the rest
And we watched as the magicks of the planet were sapped

Astronauts
blastin' off
blasters cocked
cuz we saw how mad you are
Set a course for Delta City
where the savage war
for human worth seemed to take it's grandest toll
And we land, robots on a passive world
champions of a balance you had forgot
On this path you wrought
so distracted by anthropol
ogical thought that the plants were toxic rot
We watched you kill
and we watched you die
We watched you pray
to a godless sky.
We watched you watch back
with blotted eyes
We watched you look past
what we saw you hide
We watched your love for your
blocks and neighbors
We watched as that love
turned false and wayward
We walk among you now
So better watch your cages
We come from above but we are not your saviors.