Mothercountry Motherfuckers - Confidential Human Source

by Mothercountry Motherfuckers

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1.
G.I. Joe motherfucker cock-rock-n-roll Mama’s baby blue-eyed boy on death squad patrol Thought Mogadishu would teach you Not to stir a sleeping tomb They’ll ship you back in a plastic sack The trophy of some Beltway hack Blood and mourning Page-12 stories Scrubbed with chlorine So fucking boring Hiding out in Mission town Like a dusty Tikrit hole You can hang with insane hand wringers So guilty about their role With teary eyes they eulogize The bloodstains on their gold Cry for the poor brown children ‘Til they learn to throw a stone Napalm mornings Rinsed with chlorine Page-12 stories So fucking boring They will try to poison the breech You must resist! Open the cracks for our defeat We must resist! Their cold tactics lack a heart equipped to beat They must concede If we are not fooled to provide the tools They must retreat! We’ve got you on the run Motherfucker on the run We’ve got you on the run.
2.
We reached the gates of Renault But we failed to seize the means of control And at the end of the day With sutured lips we sadly say Tomorrow we’ll be off earning our pay Some things said seem so strange Lost in the space just out of range Should hostile forces manage To hack us into parts Hopefully children will see It wasn’t for lack of a heart Fractures and divisions In vantage points are found And it can sometimes seem so fruitless To attempt to reach a common ground But with language strung between us And words that build like steel A bridge built between us Can sometimes seem so real Some things said seem so strange Lost in the space just out of range Should hostile forces manage To hack us into parts Hopefully the young will see It wasn’t for lack of a heart Sat down to write this letter Five years ago today With the hope that I might find Something more to say But the gates have long froze solid Heroic words are gone As we wait out days with cathode rays That never really numb
3.
4.
Transhuman hybrid A biological test Transhuman hybrid A psychological mess And miles down Blueprints are found Drawn by the hands of a cryonic corpse Theorems in praxis attempting to access A confidential human source Monkey, seems your age has come Mammal interface with silicon The final phase for a skull-fucked drone At least you’re not alone In your Rotastak home The shag, the twist, the passive resist Monkey, amuse us with your futile flail Go and bang a fist on your petri dish But don’t forget when there are threats They terminate experiments Transhuman hybrid A biological test Transhuman hybrid A psychological mess And miles down Your gut makes a sound Signaling your only chance for escape Follow orders that come from below You know it might not be too late A strategy of tension Vents the pressure off No need for intervention So long as we’re just talk The shank, the stick A painful groin kick But guard your anger monkey ‘Cause they plan to harvest it They aim to contain and bleed us dry ‘Cause capital got no culture So for now we’re kept alive And I just want to be myself This is not me I just wanna be myself But they stab you in the heart Before they throw you on the shelf So fuck you and your android army! Fuck you and your android army.
5.
01:03
6.
03:00
Your head has a price They’ll make three attempts On your life: Bribes, fire, attrition Their only condition That you surrender our Strategic position Immolation Collaboration HT teams with their M16s Chart stale descriptions While waiting out now Take the time to think about Your condition ’Cause when the effigies burn Yeah you think you’d fucking learn The vital role you play In the operation... In any hemisphere far or near Defeat can be contagious Some of my friends to that end Have forgot they seek to flay us To them it’s all the same We’re all just Human Terrain A neutralized population Soft power It’s your funeral just the same Soft powder burns They’ll break you either way Signs of end time But you’re not afraid They plucked out your mind At least you got paid and praise Let me tell you about Your rot bloated colony of the dead They borrow your blood But keep you warm and fed Click click photos for your document More precious than commitments You resent And I detect the faint scent Of promises bought and spent Bodies piled high, washed aside With a steady supply of… Bloody money Bloody money When black Kreuzberg shouts Get these fuckers out Bloody money, poisoning soil When Gary Gersh strums at your gates Don’t hesitate to drop the...
7.
I am the invisible hand Of market myth and new urban plans I’ll tell you something you don’t fucking understand We’ll burn this village to save it! But who here cares to confess their crimes Not the white flight children Deployed from the hive Nightly incursions of drunken diversion A colonial tourist contagion I hope you know these words were meant for you I hope you know these words were meant for… Flunkies goin’ out and gettin’ down The bar bus runs through Mission town Flunkies nodding out, stumblin’ around How banlieue eyes could testify Flunkies rolling out to drive us out Like cholera for Selous Scouts Pacify the populace Depopulate Necropolis I am the white right hand of fascist Falange organization From quiet suburbs our murmurs are heard sayin’ ‘Take that city and raze it!’ But who remembers Yulanda Ward? Not the cold HUD computers Where her memory is stored They’ll blow any levee just to drive out the poor Some call it counterinsurgent containment I hope you know these words were meant for you I hope you know these words were meant for… Flunkies goin’ out and gettin’ down The bar bus runs through Mission town Flunkies nodding out, stumblin’ around How banlieue eyes could testify Flunkies rolling out to drive us out Like cholera for Selous Scouts Pacify Necropolis Inoculate its populace They’ll send you off in the old pine box Prepped for Lethe and packed with cedar Rumored talk of your heads on the block Now take this message back to your leader Scatter hearts in shallow plots Make them earn those wages! Fuck fantasies of those With the will to build and fill Ten thousand Dheisheh cages, but Time has come Must go home Etched is the tome In every stone thrown At better Hebron homes: Yankee Motherfuckers, Time to find your way home The clocks have dropped the cover of time.
8.
9.
Denial Denial I saw you lined up with the cops Denial Denial They called you in to clear the block And there’s a place that we call hell A comfy space patiently awaits So long as you got something to sell When it’s powder kegs Organize a parade Avoid a confrontation With orange vests And yellow tape To calm the situation I found out a little too late... But anger still spilled on the mall 400 cameras there to catch it all When the town goes dumb Some rats will run To guard the merchants’ fruits But I salute the Broadway youths Who held back Hitler’s troops Just an observation How could you be there? We each arm our stations None of it is fair I found out a little too late what you are I found out a little too late that you were in Denial, denial Denial.
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11.
03:46
They put you down in a hot LZ Left gargling glass and gasoline Took heavy fire on all sides From those taught to turn the turrets On potential allies In any theater of operations Fuck the pretense and calculation Only honesty will fill the void Left by psycho fuck foot soldiers Set on search and destroy Pissing daily into us like tiny cups One day we will surely flood It’s just drama-droid ploy To extract your precious blood Two fresh marks bleed your passion It’s just a false choice Their white noise A waste of ammunition Like the Morning Show A twisted train wreck Of coked up hellos And animatronic intent And when lights go dim Cameras cut to fade Don’t think we can’t see you Stumbling off your stage Hurry home to your tomb To stave off the gloom With your daily dose chased with Formaldehyde Pissing daily into us like tiny cups One day we will surely flood It’s just drama-droid ploy To extract your precious blood Two fresh marks bleed your passion It’s just a false choice Their white noise Expends your last munitions And there’ve been times When I spouted that bullshit line Happily lapping up dog food and mace Too scared to quit their alien race Such a sad waste of time Digging all those daggers out of your behind If we could learn to turn that anger and hate Against the ones who find fun Dangling us as bait Pissing daily into us like tiny cups One day we will surely flood It’s just drama-droid ploy To extract your precious blood Two fresh marks bleed your passion It’s just a false choice Their white noise It bleeds your ammunition Wounded animals The time is now Lets make a stand While we still fucking can Realize the strength you hold When you turn around and find you’re not alone Find each other in affinity Unleash this vitriol… Pissing daily into us like tiny cups.
12.

about

The NDA’s have expired and the long-rumored MC/MF LP is finally public for eager hearts & minds everywhere! Recorded in 2010, this project stands as fallen member Sarah Kirsch’s departing haiku to all kindred spirits still left behind enemy lines. Originally intended as internal training material for a Zen Arcade-esque double LP, veteran producers Crisco Thunder and Jack “Whiz Bang” Shirley joined forces with the surviving MoFo’s to apply the necessary final touches on this future classic. Merging militant elegies ala-Cut the Crap with raging riffs and vitriol, the ‘Motherfuckers drag discontented, abrasively tuneful ‘hardcore punk’ off the bloody butcher’s block of historical curiosity. Scything swathes through uncharted sonic frontiers, Confidential Human Source is a true return to form, where malcontent Mothercountry Motherfuckers of all ages are sure to find lasting resonance and sustenance for the end times ahead.
— Doug Moodie for Trouser Pressed

Vinyl Package includes 16 page full color booklet and card with Full Digital Download through Empyre Record Holdings

PURCHASE VINYL HERE:
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credits

released October 15, 2016

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