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Workers States & Heartbreaks

by Pavlov's House

supported by
Chris Brown
Chris Brown thumbnail
Chris Brown Bloody excellent queer antifascist hip-hop from Bristol. This album is one that everyone needs to hear, The sooner, the better. Favorite track: Anarchist Black Flag.
contr2f3tti
contr2f3tti thumbnail
contr2f3tti Pavlov's House will always have a special place in my heart. this release even tops the last one! really great connection of beats & rhymes, that are fun and radical. So quit your job and love your friends! Solidarity forever <3 Favorite track: Quit Your Job.
superfurryandy
superfurryandy thumbnail
superfurryandy Bobbi and Charlie busting loose again with the beats and bars you need in your life, stoked to hear the collab with Lee Reed is just as good as I knew it would be Favorite track: Black Blocs & Red Brigades ft. Lee Reed.
Brina (She/ Fey) Entwife Experience 🍂💗
Brina (She/ Fey) Entwife Experience 🍂💗 thumbnail
Brina (She/ Fey) Entwife Experience 🍂💗 Bobbi and Charlie back with the bangers! Awesome stuff.
Love, supoort and solidarity" xxx Favorite track: Quit Your Job.
alluneedisduff
alluneedisduff thumbnail
alluneedisduff Big fan of Bobbi QELD's bar. Favorite track: Quit Your Job.
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1.
We Are 02:51
We are the JFK convertible Remnants of the Berlin Wall, Iron Curtain call Partisans who's hanging Mussolini vertical Antifascist business never personal The ones who said to purge em all We are the incontrovertible historical analysis The disappointment of these subcultural anarchists The homegrown cannabis, Sauron-type antagonists We are paintings of red army soldiers storming Winter Palaces Where the Volga Boatmen meet the vulgar roadmen We are every communist that's murdered by a soc-dem We are every anarchist that's held up in a state-pen Charlie is a he/him, Bobbi is a they/them Prolly wanna date them, who is gonna blame them Lovable and fuckable, that's impeccable taste then We are what'll happen when you listen to the wastemen We are the detached brainstem We are, we are, we are, we are We are the Gastly, we are the Haunter We are the intergenerational trauma We are the water, the ice in the sauna We are industrial, we are the... We're the bullet Ronald Reagan took, and just like Nas we Made Em Look We be all these impatient looks from how long all these payments took We are the loafer, the crust and the breadcrumb We are the entire autism spectrum We be the snare-drum, the frets and the plectrum, We be the Red-Light, the Red Stripe, the Redrum The '91 Soviet Referendum So they had to find another way to end em We're toxic-positivity and helpful-negativity, And molotiving this city with dreadful inefficiency What coppers always said to me was if they get respect from me I'll get it back, I guess I'm lacking any piggy empathy Ghosting me, you're dead to me A poltergeist with weaponry We are the unmarked cemetery Where paupers, proles and peasants be We be the hegemony Pavlov's House 2, the energy is double jeopardy We are, we are, we are, we are We are the Gastly, we are the Haunter We are the intergenerational trauma We are the water, the ice in the sauna We are industrial, we are the fauna
2.
Pavlov's House not a vacant home Where the pagans roam like it's Ancient Rome That cop found under paving stones Bringing bacon home with the spade I own Throwing a stick and I break that drone Romanov kids in the basement thrown Pavlov's House not a payment owed Landlords found with the gravest tones Oh no, move like we Vietnamese peasantry Move like Big Daddy Kane, Ain't No Half-Stepping me Racking like Rakim when rapping My Melody A to the Z with some anarchist zealotry AZ and Nas with that "Life's A Bitch" energy Jay-Z and Kanye best Watch that Throne steadily 'Lets Get Free' dead prez, a Jehst or a Chester P Said it like Ghetts that you're just fucking Dead To Me Havoc and Prodigy Passing you Pa Salieu passion thru poverty Passing thru passageways protesting policy No pacifist, bout to pelt a pig properly Avon and Somerset Molotov aiming it's bacon you're gonna get Hotdogs are making that stain on your summer-dress Coppers and rozzers are aiming that gun again Tasers that stun again Racist disgraces can't place it one of em Blatantly all of em, Satan applauding em Flames are awaiting that's bacon from all of em Never be calling em, just call em a pig and call em a cab 1312, we call it ACAB What did he do, he called me a fag🤷‍♀️ We love the comrades, we hate the cops Sus when announcing you're not no five-0 Krusties are klowning but Bob's no sideshow I spy a spycop with my little eye tho CIA psy-op CID-size tho See I ain't like what he might describe tho Me I stay tight-lipped, seeing he writes notes Striked blows and claimed a medallion Bristol cops are Nazis - Avon Battalion Bacon is crackling, sound of the beast Sound of "officer down!" in the streets Down that chopper and ground the police All copaganda, doubt the police All gotta stand up, out of their reach, No war but the class war, down with the peace Go for their glassjaw, tear up their passport Shoved in the backdoor, round up police Ice Cube, NWA shit Fight screws then put em away quick Might move them jake in a snakepit Chained to their bracelets, caged in their hatred Obey what's dictated and want more war, For the face of the state is the force on the poor More raw pork wanna forward you to court You're more sport for the bourgeois-sort Want more support for the comrades daily Ask Joe Budden that contract Shady Castro button-up, gone that wavy Makhno coming up, Kronstadt navy And no shutting up, boss can't make me Fuck you pay me, fuck you pay me! ... I'm just too lazy Staring Gagarin my eyes too spacy We love the comrades we hate the cops They designed life in a way to degrade us Full weight of the state is against us Thule pagans are aiming to cage us All patron this nation of bacon, News-stations still blame immigration, That's bait, racist intimidation We need decolonisation We see coppers try occupy pavements Statement: 'woop woop', KRS One'd it Make em "wa-womp" play a sad trumpet Unfit pundits cover-up and submit A pig puff-piece to the unsuspecting public Publish their porky-pies, better get organised Better yet better get neighborhoods fortified Pigs were last happy back in 1945 Before the Nazis, Gestapo and Fuhrer died We come like Italy's Red Brigade You're overrated like Eminem 'Renegade' Life gave us lemons ain't making no lemonade We're tryna make back the state that what Lenin made CCCPing em, beemers we keying em USSR I use SSRIs Shooting the SS and far-right western apartheid Comrades celebrate and come party late At Pavlov's House, One-Party State My beat-tape was Charlie-made You don't relate, no Charlemagne Gammon pastrami or ham n salami Just smug little fucks like some Aaron Bastani And I'll twat this pussy cunt acting a fanny This dickheaded bellend got cocked with the strappy, ya prick
3.
We're getting sick of jobs making us sick and then making us pick between money and life We're meant to stick with the job that we pick then we're bossed by a prick that is running our life Maybe we'll kick off and tell em all piss off and then tell the dickhead to run for their life Best be a quitter no-one likes a sticker so just pull the trigger and run your own life Missing the days, missing the summer Missing them rays, this is a bummer Sit in the dock of the bay, while you're snogging your bae, and you've gotten away from the clutter Stomach-a-flutter you dumb motherfucker, you could have those palm-trees ablaze like you're Usher Let it burn, let it burn, let it burn, let it burn We shouldn't be heading to work but we never learn Sick of the chores, sick of the stresses Wanna see more summery dresses All this class war, it just depresses Wanna be more out on the edges Wanna be down at the St Paul's Carni Wanna chow down on some picnic sarnies Wanna take shrooms at your friend's houseparty Rum, ket, coke with a little Bacardi Long weekenders, plan more benders Not quite right like my passport gender Shades and shorts on, legs on show Quit your job and get to know Tell your boss just where to go, Booze 2 for 1 at Tesco tho End-times getting very close Sun and heavy-snow Quit your job and love your friends Not much time left to spend with them The money you leant well I already spent I'm behind on the rent and it's spinning me out Already sent but it's such an expense and it doesn't relent from its grip on me now Sorry to vent this aggression is pent and I haven't a tent if they're kicking me out Landlords torment but in any event that's the reason godsent why we listen to Mao Bring em to a Struggle Session Reading groups and troubled lessons Riding on that double-decker Finding out your cuddle-pressure Another summer romance in the presence of sunny weather Whatever happens at work today won't even be remembered Why don't you quit, why don't you go? Why give a shit, what do you know? What do you do, why do you try? What does it prove, what if you die? Who'd give a fuck, why would they care? Who you to them? Nothing but air Where is their love, when will it show? Why don't you leave, why won't you go? Why not say piss off and tell em to die Tell em you quit and you're gonna get high Tell em to stick all that shit that they give cos their business's vision is running you dry Take a break, not Kitkat time Break that corporate diktat time Awaiting signs you should resign And sign on instead? This that sign Quit your job and love your friends Not much time left to spend with them P45 and a crate of cider Be on the skive with your vaporiser Boss's report what a plagiariser Mao said they're just Paper Tigers Down another Jagermeister I can be your main advisor Honestly if you just quit I bet you'll be a famous writer Light that spliff, write that film Life is quick, time is filled Life is shit, time don't heal Likely this time off will Not make a little bit of difference to the shitty way I feel So we pop pills and ketamine get questioning if life is real What if it's not, what if it's fake What if we waste all of our days What if we die, crossing the road What if we fry, or just explode What are we telling ourselves in those precious few moments of consciousness before we die Was it all worth it and what did I worship or was I just working on keeping alive Who did you love, who did you help After you're snuffed, will it be felt Will you be sad, regretting your life Or will you just smile and let out a sigh Hold on tight this ride is rough The whole wide world is likely fucked So quit your job, don't give a toss, go kick your boss right in the gut
4.
Dripped-out working class fashionistas Or we got the balaclava on, Zapatistas Maduro and Castro, the tracksuit Adidas Beret on top whether Panthers, Chavistas Sportswear, all sick fitteds Or they're full-kit with it The purse on display is a Burberry fake But we can't make-up in this Urban Decay Now we're vagabonding in our goddamn trackie bottoms Gotten blackened eyes from having all these backhand sovereigns Designer brands knocked-off, croptops chopped-off All the stolen clothes we got from a Topshop Posh sods posture in beanies & Northies Been seen in your gilet, meaning you're horsey We're fake Ray-Bans, skate-brands on a caveman You couldn't hold this down like a spaceman Dripped-out working class fashionistas Or we got the balaclava on, Zapatistas Supreme Soviet Maduro and Castro, the tracksuit Adidas Beret on top whether Panthers, Chavistas Supreme Soviet New clothes when the rent paid, nylon or hemp-made Femboys dressed as a Frenchmaid, red-laced Knitting needle measuring the next gauge, thread frayed Where the best-laid hems of mice and men stay Some looking Wednesday, Fester or Lurch Some kept their Sunday-best for the church Or dressed in a shirt for the court-date only No Blackshirts fuck an Oswald Moseley ... Proles stay in the dole queue Gold-chain and a gold tooth Cold shades and the gold hoops Fresh creps, colgate on your old shoes Best-dressed, bold taste when I roll thru Yes yes, Salt Bae with the soul food Get dressed, whole day where you scroll, nude Old-age is a whole mood Dripped-out working class fashionistas Or we got the balaclava on, Zapatistas Supreme Soviet Maduro and Castro, the tracksuit Adidas Beret on top whether Panthers, Chavistas Supreme Soviet Tiger-stripe print or you maybe think bumblebees Summerbreeze, stay distinct, baby-pink dungarees Son of a Plumber, we've Dusty Rhodes polkadots Come with a Stunner, we must be Stone Cold a lot What do the colours be, white with the gold or not Is the dress black and blue fuck it just fold the lot ...do not Converse aloud with ya Kickers Popped out for a milk in my gown and my slippers You looking Ukipper, new Hitler Youth nippers Move with the gluesniffers, bootlickers All on display, who need a new zipper, you kidder Grew thicker, stupider, you skinheads use clippers I'm sharp as a Razor Ramon toothpicker Slick Rick with it but I move slicker, new vigor Too bitter we're pretty and use glitter Mascara in your rearview mirror
5.
Prole Deep 03:33
Pavlov's House got the vodka, not jelly shots You know Bobbi make that potbelly hot You're gonna break like that Rocksteady drop In that guillotine Trap Queens, not Fetty Wap Marie Antoinette, gonna eat cake for Pete's sake Basket of aristocrat heads, a keepsake French Revolution, the sequel and remake Knowing me and my people are cheapskates Yours now found ground-pounded and housebound Pavlov's House come from all-round, surround sound Anarchists frown at the hammer and the sickle tatt Said in this town and we ran em outta brizzle fast Legend in this city with it, never sitting pretty with it Revolution'ry Executive Committee with it Innit, rapping that Leningrad Stalingrad repping that Move, move We're gonna prole deep Specs like Salvador Allende Sexlife, Ariana Grande Next life, which circle of Dante Egg-white, whipping up an entrée I'm Subcomandante Marcos in battle Carlos the Jackal, part of the rabble, carbomb'll rattle ...the whole barrio knows That we're working class heroes, Super Mario Bros Not no go-kart pedalling no-mark, go FARC rebel him Loanshark, known-Narc peddling Mmmmm, tell me about him The Party's in touch and the Chairman denounced him Ooooo, I be a worker But still shotting drawers to these IKEA workers There might be a murder Stalinist and anarchist, unlikeliest merger Move, move We're gonna prole deep I'm Rancid, Out Come The Wolves Ya man in't down with the cause Comrades get downing your tools Flouncing their rules, now Run the Jewels Killer Mike daily ft. Rage Ghetts more Giggs then a feature from Dave Let's resched' cos my dealer delayed Mate, I could Ether a Jay We still beef, Lady Leshurr and Paige Maybe Yeezy and Drake, Eazy and Dre "Et tu Brute" like what Caesar will say In that scene in the play where they leave him betrayed And he's feeling the blade, leaders will pay If they lead em astray, leave em afraid Soon replaced to Theresa's disMay Reap what you sow in that wheat where you played Move, move We're gonna prole deep Weasels and rats wanna parrot to the pigs Even some cats crow murder for a bid We wolfdown ravenous, you're clownfish outfoxed No need to badger him for beats, Charlie not a Sloth Pavlov's House, fake friends dropped out Stalin with the Photoshop out now they're cropped out Blocked and forgot bout, what now Whole new account for the Bobbs' clout Now what does it look like, I gotten em shook like They're Vanilla Ice and I'm some communist Suge Knight So hop on your pushbike, this here fixed gear? Still do the hipster beard, vintage beer THIS year? Time that you kick it, like Tribe's older lyrics Advisory with it like library visits Still just some bi who's non-binary with it Still act as slick as refineries innit
6.
Bricks and mortar Cement and water (Brutalism, brutalism, brutalism, brutalism...) Hoping they'll stop these rent increases Throw me a block then check this thesis Soviet Blocs not Tetris pieces We reside in the cracks and the creases Factory floors, them felled powerlines High-rise flats, them Grenfell Tower skies Find their manor and then they'll cower like Paranoid, schadenfreude, chemtrail shower-types We reside in the prison wall We reside in the city hall We saw rioters lob these bricks We saw fire and concrete-mix Climate apocalypse, floodlit pitch Climbing on top of this London Bridge In dungeons sit or the debtor jail, ne'er-do-well Dimly-lit stairwell with the metal rail Castle medieval, built that Cathedral We built pyramids tetrahedral Textile workshops, thread the needle Almshouse, workhouse, desperate people Rundown traphouse, extralegal Fascist hideout, nesting eagle At that outhouse next to fecal They prepare for the next upheaval Brutalism Bricks and mortar Cement and water (Brutalism, brutalism, brutalism, brutalism...) We be construction Means of production We seen corruption Eager consumption Straight from the village hut On to the little town We built the city up We'll burn the city down (Brutalism, brutalism, brutalism, brutalism...) Bricks and mortar Cement and water We saw your summerhouse, we saw slumlords Up in the Upper House, it's all above-board Much more than just strictest orders War-torn financial district borders Lived in squares and we lived in corners We reside in the bricks and mortar Stolen wealth in the business quarters Gold is held that has witnessed torture Colston fell to the Bristol water Cold and pale like the pits of paupers Villagers locked in stocks Rivers and locks and docks Industry's Loch Ness Mons' ... Cryptozoology with no apology Columns that venerate slave-trade atrocity Building a gate on their property, British State's greatest monopoly Rot at the edifice, rotten and derelict Rioters used to pour lead on your terraces 1830s in Queens Square was the genesis Bristol once more on the edge of the precipice ... stabbed in a carpark that's brutalist Rushed in a council flat, brutalist Chucked off the top of your office block, brutalist Tag 'FTP' on the copshop, that's brutalist
7.
Anarchist Black Flag, grab that Makhnovist gat at the back of the hatchback Makhnovist gat, that's that Mosin-Nagant Balaclava-clad comrades are robbing a bank United the City like Mancs Fighting it gritty with shanks Bourgeois beheaded em Or start to getting em Petrol-bombed, four-star unleaded em Black Bloc swarming Sat on the top with a matchbox warning That molotov got that cop warming Wanna help me? Bobbi QELD be Tommy Shelby I'm Cillian Murphy, unite comrades like Nicholas Fury You're lost, sad and guillotine-worthy Molotov that guy's sportscar up Bobbi got baptised in bourgeois blood Robespierre, pulled like a nosehair No fair, call for your au pair Anarchist Black Flag, grab that Makhnovist gat at the back of the hatchback ...Black Bloc basics That cop there, well that cop's racist "That's not fair, that cop needs wages" Man don't care, that lot need macing Told cop stop but what's gonn' make him? Nonstop talk in your co-op not changing Squad got framed not a Bob Ross painting Whole network dead when your squat got raided Nah fuck your anarchist commune More talk than all Capital volumes Gotta jump feds in Halloween costumes World burning while fascism consumes So while you're giving every inch, we're guerillas in the mist And Gorillas in the Monsoon Cops ridden that squat out of middle-class dropouts, Your dad got you back to the farmland you grew Who knew, taking a spot in the family business Mates you forgot but will stand as a witness Basic & posh you don't stand with the litmus Maybe should drop & demand our forgiveness Rich-kid, dipshit, Name that we'll cross from the traitorous hitlist Taking ya hostage we're making a wishlist Anarchist Black Cross ain't visiting this And all you fash-lot tasting of pigshit (bothersome) Soon to abolish em, Durruti Column em Calling all anarchists, washing the squat off em Come for the plod like it's Tottenham
8.
Give Up 03:30
Existence, what a practical joke Texts from friends turning Casper the Ghost Overly positive pricks patronise like Let's pretend there's some actual hope Nah less pretence from your vanity show Now let's see sense, go and grab me a rope Overly pessimistic, impressionistic Went to mend but the crack further broke Can't even cope, nope, know growth isn't viable Brain goes slow, that known ol' reliable Stay so low, and known as maniacal K-holed tho, but know that I'm liable Life is all a trip where you can't make the face out Trying just to grip on reality while spaced-out Made out the wrong hole, got low and tended a long note Misgendered as a John Doe Give up give up I just wanna give up They tell me that I'm beautiful but I just wanna give up They tell me I can do it all but I just wanna give up They tell me that I'm capable but I just wanna give up You already know your choices are pointless Joyless, exploited, voiceless and voided Point it out like your mouth wider than a town-crier Nothing but piss to a house fire, how dire Now try a new way, give it a go Give up the act, give up and tap, give up the ghost Giving all you got, you pretend that you're lesser Still tryna centre your friends as your betters Some only getting involved for a sense of control Always playing leader never sensible roles But we already know they're a loser, a user Gave mutual aid to my abuser Guess you saw yourself in em Their apologies you helped written The prophecy was self-written Guess we'll never combat the long-sad from that When pain came straight from a comrade Give up give up I just wanna give up They tell me that I'm beautiful but I just wanna give up They tell me I can do it all but I just wanna give up They tell me that I'm capable but I just wanna give up So why still bother, most life's still squalor Coke-line pill-poppers, those types real scholars Escaping the pain of the strain on the brain, just Making your face hang in shame when you wake up Shake-up your life administration Fuck their manifestation of manipulation Acting all brazen I don't trust them Their attitude change when you won't fuck them Fuck them! Here I go up to the bridge again Here I go look at my wrist again Given all I got to give again Listen then shitty friends, this is Ben's bitter-end Living-end dividend, resting in the riverbend ... Give a fuck Spirit's just dead and my corpse tryna sick it up Friends who'd give it up now given up on giving love Shit is fucked, I'm giving up
9.
Nostalgia only lies to you and hides the truth Memories of better days but back then you were crying too, don't buy in to That tint of rose, you sniffed a whiff that tricked your nose And now you're missing those who only used to make you piss and moan and wish they'd go Nostalgia's just a bunch of shit All these 1960s kids nostalgic for the London Blitz How dumb it is It's scuffed knees, gym clothes, your bag of pack lunches But it just means Jim Crow to MAGA-hat bunches Nostalgia can be weaponised Gentrified, leading cause of genocide Nostalgia got them terrified Nostalgia got the twitching curtain, in reversion Forgotten friend or missing person, isn't certain Nostalgia make you overthink, go to drink, text an ex to go and link Then depressed and going shrink Nostalgia's not an exit from the dreaded shit we're shackled to They just call it retro then they're selling it right back at you Nostalgia lies, nostalgia lies to ya Behold the lies, it's no surprise to ya With Goldeneyes, we're throwing knives thru ya These Older-times, they're all just like Newer Nostalgic grown folk are on Pokémon Reciting lines from Obi-Wan This the shit they mostly on Or reminisce when radio would have a fucking Mosley on Tryna look younger wonder where the fucking goatee gone Thunderbirds and Turtle days 70s punks with their swastikas not circled-A's, The fuck is that? Circulate the purple haze, back in school Had to pull our cash together just to buy the saddest draw Nostalgic for the drinking, vomiting and crying Anxiety inside that keeps on telling you you're dying Lying what your life was like, you yearn for the past Never learn from the past That school disco shit, the Return of the Mack And Cotton-Eye Joe with a rotten-type flow But what am I tho? Skin and regrets, little depressed, living a mess, giving me stress, didn't get dressed, fill in the rest Fuck it tho, still at my best Nostalgia lies, nostalgia lies to ya Behold the lies, it's no surprise to ya With Goldeneyes, we're throwing knives thru ya These Older-times, they're all just like Newer Nostalgia got you desperate, breaking down on everyday Crying to a song you never rated anyway Deja vu is coming back anyday Nostalgia got you wondering what all your old love letters say You should just let em stay, packed up hands off Like those old holiday snaps on your laptops Nostalgic for the Starry Nights, nostalgic for the Van Goghs Skepta and JME video backdrops Nostalgic for the plans lost, the hmms and the what-ifs Nostalgia got you missing all those pricks in the office Getting thru I said to you, nostalgia be the death of you? Nostalgic for asbestos, guess what, chest cough every breath or two Nostalgic for the top-hat n monocle Chimney sweeps coming back is not that improbable Nostalgic for the flatcap or snapback canonical Nostalgic for the days a future was still looking possible
10.
Riding the weeknight nightbus Finding it be quite nice, just Lie in a seat, my eyes shut Try not to sleep, I might just Miss my stop Streetlights off, which one's what Road so silent, random goths Market streets look abandoned plots Copping an ounce on the edge of the city Somehow it's already twenty to middy Crisp in the air and a little bit chilly Ooo, that's not a strong enough jiffy Don't wanna draw the attention of piggy Draw in my bag is a little too piffy Guy on the right keeps on eyeing me shitty Wanting a fight or he's finding me pretty You're never finding the pulse of society unless you're regularly riding the bus First on the Badgerline, Stagecoach to Hammerstein, let's get re-nationalising the bus Labouring days that we're working right thru Alienated from work that we do Finish your nightshift there's rush hour too How come the next day there's more work to do? The weeknight nightbus, weeknight nightbus We don't mind when the week fly by us Seek that weekend high, no pile-ups Whole week comedown, now rack lines up Weeknight nightbus, weeknight nightbus Foxes ripped that binbag right up We see blue lights right behind us Weeknight nightbus Sit in the station at Lawrence Hill, listening Miseducation of Lauryn Hill It's "babyfaces" and "foreign-heels" Bus companies the proverbial three dollar bill Upper deck littered with meal-deals and orange peel Some bore ill-will to the morning chill Snoring still holding their four inch heels Dreaming of work, that's a horror film Some pull out knives and they threaten with glee Some pull out books they're pretending to read Some should have got off at least fifteen stops off decided to nod off and they're still asleep Sirens erupting the desolate streets Cops seeing red like the decibel peaked Pedestrians beat and soon resting in peace The tag on the window says "F The Police!"
11.
12.
[Lee Reed] Let’s go! Turtle Island to Bristol Gavrilo flow hit like the pistol Spits the pinko bricks for the window Flip the pigs go limbs all Akimbo Up the tempo dance to the rhythm kid Kicks n snare hits lift up the militants Pitchfork pillaging condos n villas Queen or Camilla, we go guerrilla Pro-flotilla, broke down the wall dude Roll with Queer folk vogue down the ballroom Pump the volume up on resistance Thunderstruck then fucked up they system Lift a fist get Bloc’d up in black yo Packing the Anti-Fascist ammo Raps that blast a path to Makhno Attack from shadows, rap commandos [Hook] Black Bloc, Red Brigades Cops say that we're misbehaved Working class is underpaid Black Bloc, Red Red [Bobbi QELD] We increase in number, discrete as thunder Decrease their plunder like Patrice Lumumba Waterboard boardrooms, keeping em under We flow Tito, flee to the bunker Chumbawamba Tubthumping, quick get back up again Undercover motherfuckers, pigs in the muck again Empire-type cos these Times New Roman "Comic Sans-culotte"'s my new slogan Hoping that'll be a spoiler, Narodnaya Volya Fascists in the dirt, that'll be the Foibe Capital employed ya, that is your exploiter Manager and toiler, landlord with your boiler Radicalest anarchist that ballot-box spoiler Back and sides cut, that Jacobin coiffeur Guillotine, lit up these streets like it's Billie Jean This Machine Kills Fascist philistines [Lee Reed] Reed’s at Pavlov’s House with the medicine Black n Red flag back into bed again Lift a fist up for kids in the tenements Bun they system this shit acetylene Prep the kitchen we eat the rich yo King a la Reed the recipe distro’d Let’s go nick the silverware crystal Flip those soak the sofas in petrol Presto, echo boom from the street kid Heat for peeps yelling fuck the polices No Peace cuz no Justice been reached There’s no peace til we bust up the precinct Viva da revolution the movement Reed don’t spit those bars dude shoots them Bobbi’s sharp and cut right through shit Charlie boost that beat just go BOOM! [Bobbi QELD] Break their laws, got tried in accordance Made plans, take my time like a tortoise Hate-filled men who try to deport us Breakout pen like tyrannosaurus Way back when we were 'sick man of Europe' Taste that, get me a big bag of sawdust Dipped in your courtyard, Fist of the North Star Ticked your name for our list of the bourgeois Wanna start proper art, oligarch body-parts All of your contacts and bodyguards Just gonna hang like Benito n that Gun go Kerrang like you're emo n that Some pull a blank like Placebo n that Some pulling rank but we're Vito-ing that Cops are a gang of chorizo n that Where's the pigs in a blanket sleepover at Maybe these anarchist rappers are hazardous Taking you back, Assassin in an Animus 'Grafdabusup' now we're Chester P Hackenbush Class War Veteran with the emptiest rationbook Molotov recipe 'By Any Means', that's a commie necessity Stop White Supremacy Sheriff n deputy, Aryan pedigree Rather be dead than a red? Then you better be
13.
[Monody] Wait, what did I just say No more playing these games of bathing in hypocrisy Demonology is taking over me and it pulls me deeper every time I'm caught in your grip Thinking I should just quit And dip Outta this life To another time To when my thoughts were mine But I'm back to you every time [Hook] The one and only sweet one who knows me Demons are eating me slowly [Bobbi QELD] Manic Pixie Nightmare Enby, only here just for your story Surely would inform me still you let me wait in purgatory Broke me down until the blame was sorely placed before me Made it surely every memory now tainted for me, hate this for me Maybe yours be now agreeing with what all our friends were seeing Still just be a thing to them & not a real human being Autistic and a gimmick, and they didn't Gimme any care or water when I wasn't with it and my head was spinning Hated me for crying, what the fuck I'm sposed to do? Abused by two so I could just be close to you Not over you Still notice you on every single insta view, you know I do Eventually, respectfully ...fuck it I'll get over you Moving onto greener pastures, not this putrid sea of bastards You can see it's fractured from the first day being manufactured See I'm bruised and battered, gaslit and abandoned Now we stand on either side of canyon Phantom love In Memorandum My consciousness was comatose & still they watched me overdose I broke with hope now so morose, not home alone but hosting ghosts Reversing down these Roman Roads of frozen snow but never scared Quickly fleeing those who've only shown they never cared Watching em moving on I'm sat in my room a lot with the computer on Editing videos, writing a newer song Talking some shit like I'm part of the Q-Anon Likely you'll look at me like I be too far gone Forcing my head on my shoulders to screw it on Already dead All of my fault, already said All of my faults, called out instead All of my thoughts, crawled out and bled They pulled at the thread All that they saw was 'Dawn of the Dead' All that I fought, causing me dread All just the cause of this bullshit I'm fed All gives me pause when I crawl into bed With a sleep paralysis demon's claws on my head Hoping he'll choke me Knee to the neck with an ushigoroshi Meet with respect cos he keep me from lonely He never left and he's keeping me homely The one and only, sweet one who know me Demons are eating each piece of me slowly 'VVitch' 'Drag Me To Hell' 'The Omen' 'It Follows' 'Saw' 'Amityville'
14.
When misery visits me Hitting me physically I roll with the punch That's the strength that its given me Neurodiversity, victim of industry Bosses kept kicking me, fire me, P45ing me, dissing me Quit NHS and I went university Now I'm a Master that's not no hyperbole Got me an MA not Young when I did it They'll 'Go To Sleep', CM Punk with your lyrics I'll never stop, Terry Funk when I spit it, and I can't run out of bars, 'Munk when I Chip it Inspired to write what the hurt n pain give it Nevermind Lithium, Kurt Cobain with it We rise up like phoenix do We fly high, Rey Fenix moves Sometimes dark but seen it thru Sunrise on that scenic view Turns out it's what my creativity seeks I wrote this whole album in three fucking weeks Those brief times of happiness giving me writers block Still haven't uninstalled twitter, I type a lot Projecting that doom to your cortex, not using no forceps That withdrawal of sertraline, boom goes the forehead And soon saw the scenes from the news on your doorstep That noose around your neck is loose if you forget ...So get off the chair and get in the streets ...The whole proletariat's on our knees ...We're learning to square with all our defeats Yearning to share and get on our feet Burning the square and scaring police We rise up like phoenix do We fly high, Rey Fenix moves Sometimes dark but seen it thru Sunrise on that scenic view Time's what I needed to rise like the phoenix If time's not on my side then am I defeated Not got the time for this slimy, conceited n Slightly elitist scum slyface that greeted em ...deep-seated abuse from em Put it to sleep like anaesthetists do to em Fairweather friends seems I keep on eluding em They're never there when I'm needing a few of em This path I'm on isn't including em This vagabond isn't of use to em In Pavlov's House there's only two of em We call it Al-Quds not Jerusalem That's how the future come, free of oppression, depression, succession of right-wing aggression The revolution obsession no question won't lessen progression with bourgeois concession (the lesson) We rise up like phoenix do We fly high, Rey Fenix moves Sometimes dark but seen it thru Sunrise on that scenic view
15.
Old fans like "Bobbi, think they're a real tankie" You've gotten that wrong cos I'm more Bill Shankley But wanna still thank me for We Can Go and ACAB Still the best anarchist rap getting playback Still the rap Commissar hitting oligarchs Bonepart on top of yah Cliftonite promenades Isn't like 'La-Di-Da', Slick Rick with it tho Bobbi still got that big-dicked brizzle flow Is it tho? Innit bro You used to zoom Bobbi Q in the video Do what you do who am I to judge really tho Moving more luchadore, Rey Marxterio Pavlov's House, Knockdown Dolls, and the Q-E-L-D Slapping this Abramovich and found em blue as Chelsea Messing with the proles, you're a Thatcherite calamity We wrestle for control, like the Anoa'i family Representing workers all across the world (QELD!) Letting the red n black flag unfurl (QELD!) Whether it's Charlie or Jenre Beats We're still not lovin' police! The Q E L D Like Cypress Hill, throw their sets in the air At the crime-scene saw them Fresh Prints of Blair If we were the pigs we would question him bare Cos how would that be unless you were there? But we're no police cos we got souls Like MF DOOM check the sockhole Baader-Meinhof and the syndrome is Stockholm No bloodhounds in the foxhole Unemployed Eric B, 'You Know I Got Dole' 'Paid In Full' while I played on a console Clearly they think that I'll sink like a washbowl Tryna smear me like a bogroll They need reminding what guillotines look like They never knew what the guillotine feels like They never felt what the guillotine steel's like We wanna know what the upper-class squeals like Your middle-class friends don't struggle like you do They never knew real trouble like you do That's why they live in a bubble-type group, who Only speak of themselves, coming like Groot do Mutual aid that was all one-sided All that love that was unrequited And all of your truths that you trusted, confided Became all the brooms that they brushed you aside with Self-important, self-obsessed, self-centred They felt threatened when the Bobbi QELD entered They'll only help when they want you indentured They're treating your friendship just like another business venture Misremembered basic facts to centre their control n that They should go reflect on how come all they do is hold us back You should fucking piss off, not the only one who told em that Self-appointed leaders too fucked up to take the role of that So we don't listen to em anymore, anymore On our guard cos there's always plenty more But we're not gonna let in any more, any more They're all rotten to their very core, we're what they're not ready for Reckon your ears burn when you're hearing this If you think this verse is about you it clearly is Timid, insecure while I tell it how it really is Now you're gonna learn about beefing with a lyricist Cos you ain't got the means to answer this, fake-ass anarchist Claim non-hierarchical when you're the face of all of this Appalled at how you pulled the strings of everyone you're hanging with Appalled your planning revolves around banging newer activists ...Just SWP shit Come get fucking with me quick NJPW knee-lifts Q E L D ain't nothin' to chief with They need reminding what guillotines look like They never knew what the guillotine feels like They never felt what the guillotine steel's like We wanna know what the upper-class squeals like
16.
Lost Count 03:24
Lost count of the friends made Lost count of the ounces of peng grade Lost count of the faint-praise, amount of complaints raised Lost count of mistakes made Lost count of the days, lost count of the years Can't count on a mate who is yet to appear Lost count of the gear, lost count of the tears Lost count of the periods that love disappeared Lost count of the times I restarted over Lost count of the times I was owed with closure Lost count of the roads, lost count of the shows done Lost count of stoners who rolled us a smoke up Lost count of the beds laid, Lost count of the debts made Lost count of the rent paid, of the doubts that my friends gave Lost count of the hopes and the "next day"s Lost count of the good lost count of the bad Lost count of the happy lost count of the sad Lost count of the money that I spent on a bag Pavlov's House lost count of the fash Lost count of the times locked out of the flat Lost count of the times knocked down on my ass Lost count of the raps and the bars that I've not dropped Lost count of the journeys I hopped-off Lost count of my feelings and whatnot Lost count of the times when the cops stopped, Lost count of interviews given where I'm fobbed-off, Lost count of jobs that I've not got Lost count of the fairweather fake breres who wear pleather Make out they're bare clever, caged you at Their Pleasure Sitting in a cell still waiting for their letter Lost count of the ways coulda fared better Lost count of the travels, the wars and the battles Plans that unraveled, judgments and gavels Bury the establishment under the gravel Lost count of the Prince Andrews and the Saviles Lost count of the good lost count of the bad Lost count of the happy lost count of the sad Lost count of the money that I spent on a bag Pavlov's House lost count of the fash Lost count of the rats, that's the Blairs and the Borises Johnson & Johnson white line nasal blockages Lost count of the lies and the broken promises Lost count of how many media accomplices Lost count of those dangerous cryptids Lost count of the days we resisted Lost count of the diptychs, triptychs, Lost count of the rappers who are only spitting triplets Lost count of ways that we lost out and then some Lost count of comrades we call co-defendants Lost count of cohorts who show no repentance Solidarity means show co-dependence And we'll rise up together Lost count of the days that we made the world better Ten Days That Shook The World's factory settings Decades became weeks, ask Vladimir Lenin Lost count of the good lost count of the bad Lost count of the happy lost count of the sad Lost count of the money that I spent on a bag Pavlov's House lost count of the fash

about

Bobbi from Bristol's QELD & producer Charlie el Poeta link up for their second release, Workers States & Heartbreaks! A mad selection of styles and beats to compliment the revolutionary bars of your second favourite Bristolian anarchist rapper (peace Jenre). Featuring international collabs with Canada's Lee Reed & Monody from the Netherlands, recorded over an energy drink-filled week in June 2022.

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released February 10, 2023

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Pavlov's House UK

Hip-hop & grime bangers for your squat party & picket line, outta that revolutionary hotbed of Bristol. Nonstop bops for the comrades. Antifascist Luchador bars.
Bobbi QELD: bars, Charlie el Poeta: beats.

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