Purchase an actual CD from Ghettosocks, shipped to your door, anywhere in the world, direct from Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada.
Also includes immediate download of 16 track album in your choice of 320k mp3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire, complete with digital booklet and iPhone formatted versions of the "Don't Turn Around" and "Out For Treats" videos!
One, two, three...fourth letter hyphen, so betty-white - cocaine, I’m already high - propane, flame-broil any mic - no paint, I’m no Pennywise. No clownin’ foes go beddy-bye, don’t sleep, peep those eyes open wider than Eugene Levy eye-brows raised (I’m pretty nice.) Fuck that, I’m 1950’s polite, minus the sissy rhyming a sixteen. Eddie Haskall flow: smile in your face then bash in your skull. Case and caskett closed. Manson with a dash of Jones. Let’s make this shindig jump - I’ll bring the Kool-Aid, you bring the cups.
I gotta roll my sleeves up for this one: twenty-six ton beat, crushin’ dimwits under thick drums. Wonder where these kids are from? Blood drips on the map, splatters Halifax, T-Dot, listen. Missioned over to Europe and into the States just to wake these fucks up like a kick in the face. No, it’s not like a dip in the lake, Kils’ beats swell the MP until it won’t fit in the case - wait. Under the shrink-wrap, logos are embedded. You might as well cue the outro with the end credits. Steal my dumb lines? I’ll steal your sunshine - forget it. Your career’s over like Len’s, get it? Staying fuelled off of the booze and poutine, tongue out dunking jewels on the fools like two three, and we’re the reason your boo’s needin some new jeans when she popped the bubble and truffle-shuffled like Goonies, ooh-wee.
Me and you don’t match dog, so hold that side - you’re like a sad gay dude, you ain’t got no pride. You’re led astray, you ain’t got no eyes, your Stevie Wonder hairline gets pushed like that, so pick a number: I could fade you like the barber outlined your features - I’m ill - bless you with the Fresh Kils ceasar and leave ya. Nowadays these skeeze will deceive ya, that’s why they get a preview of the penis like a teaser. Ease up - I’m just spitting what I know: cursive conscript while you scribble with the flow. Follow my lead doggy, I can shit-talk an essay. You can do it the best way or do it the next way. Whatever you choose my set is deadly heavy ready to move, n_gg_z out of the groove - you chevy. I need a medi, medicinal for medication. Made the grade blazed call it ‘higher education’.
You are now rockin’ with the best, ‘who me?’ Mune’s like a jealous one’s envy, Pesci sippin’ Nestea. Better rap, rock better beats, yes we take you to a better place - no not Tennessee. Speech is mean, nice when I write dirty on the mic, image stays squeeky-clean. Scene - fin to stay reachin’ the kid’ll stay recent, dance in your sleep - that’ll lead to dreams. Girls you can bet I rock, even when I stop at red lights in a red I-Roc. Sex symbol: ex said I’m not - wack, fuck that, cool as a fan yet yes I’m hot. Me and Socks know the lay of the land, only difference I’m unknown at home, more paid in Japan. Tryin'a change that, trade a train-pass for a Maebach - you ain’t this, you ain’t hip. Stay back.
from Treat of the Day,
released October 10, 2009
produced by Fresh Kils / cuts by DJiRATE
(D. Pyper, A. Kilgour, R. Bakker, D. Christoff, R. Acheampong, W. Pitfield - SOCAN)
Noted as one of the top rappers in Canada (The CBC’s Top 25 Greatest Canadian Rappers Ever), Ghettosocks is a JUNO Award nominated Hip Hop Producer and MC born in Ottawa and living in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada.