[Intro]

The gig is in the center of downtown Austin, in a not very soundproof tent. Unfortunately for us, the not very soundproof Canadian tent is right next door and we've been scheduled to perform at exactly the same time as Canadian musicians, the Swollen Members

[Verse 1: Madchild]

Yo, my name is Madchild, I pack a fuckin' wallop

I'm makin' songs, doing shows enough to pack my wallet

Makin' stacks, makin' racks, I'm a rap-a-holic

Speadin' color all around like I was Jackson Pollock

I'm from Swollen Members kid, every track is solid

Line us up against your shit, you'll get your track demolished

Cause rappers hear my shit, they need some aspirin

You know they hear my shit, it make em look like they're a has-been

That's the concepts I'm havin' problems graspin'

Colder than Alaska, from Jasper to Aspen

Old as fuck and my voice is kind of raspy

In this shit for life, you don't have to bother asking

I'm kinda crazy, that's the key to my devotion

Makin' songs, reflectin' while I deal with my emotions

I'm like an onion, you gon' have to peel the layers

A silverback gorilla swingin' on the chandeliers

Never sounded iller, I've been killin' it for years

Dealin' with my fears

Head, feelin' like it's clear

I'm venomous with these words

A minimalist that hordes

My den is a twisted world

My pen is a mystic sword

[Interlude]

We're live sucka

Rappers are in danger

I get a rush when I bust

Hardcore rap music that make your ears ring

[Verse 2: Prevail]

Pressure barrel

Metric electric

I'll overload the spectrum

Locomotive freight train

I'm trained to look in both directions

Hazard signs

Flashing red lights

Blazing air horns

Rare forms, intelligent life buried in rose thorns

Cold storms forming on this westerly coast

We destiny's most

Your head's on a post

The specter of ghosts

Floatin' apparition, my position you loathe

There's more fear than Las Vegas when the vagabonds rose

Roundin' Russian roulette with all the henchmen you sent

I ran out of room in the tomb, some are stuffed in the vent

And now it's colder and lower as the temperature plummets

You're frostbitten and the famine's got you holdin' your stomach

No need to numb when I chill it

Will it be red when I spill it?

Probably, honestly

And maybe a little more than acidic

It's like the Chronicles of Riddick when it goes pitch black

I'm BAX WAR till the day I die and won't switch back, come on