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Das RacistDas Racist 

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Das Racist

Das Racist was an alternative hip hop group based in Brooklyn, New York City, composed of MCs Himanshu Suri (aka Heems) and Victor Vazquez (aka Kool A.D.) and hype man Ashok Kondabolu (aka Dapwell). Known for their use of humor, academic references, foreign allusions, and unconventional style, Das Racist has been both dismissed as joke rap and hailed as an urgent new voice in rap.. The group also proved to be the lynchpin of a new wave of underground New York hip-hop, triangulating voices both old (El-P, Roc Marciano) and new (Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire, Action Bronson).' more »

Year:

2011

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White devils like it
I'm drinking coffee brought to me
By white devils' sidekicks
They askin' if we like to get higher
Like they hired him
The fire and brimstone is known
To be composed of desire never twice lived
The metal might miss, but the beveled edge
Of the mind can provide tricks
To bring the light to the likes of whites and black kids
As well, it's like magic, I'm not your average
Negro please, I know I'm an idiot
But I got a stick and I'mma use it a little bit
I'm not too sure if I should clue in the little kids
Or if I'm too clueless to move with the bigger fish
Why it gotta be those too and not some other shit
Take me to the mothership
Hate me I'm Abramovich
I'm Lady Gaga, I'm a fag, I'm a lesbian
See me playin' bass in jam bands up at Wesleyan
See me at a poetry slam in like '97
Singing classic numbers by Otis Redding
Totally shredding
Hoping you get it, yeah

[Chorus x2]
Relax relax relax relax
Relax relax relax relax
Relax relax relax relax
Relax relax relax relax
Yea yea yea yea yea
Yea yea yea yea yea
Yea yea yea yea yea
No no no no no
No no no no no
No no no no

What good is this Cashmere
If they're still dying in Kashmir
Kushmir
There was homes, now there's just dust there
Next year, same as this year
A rough year
Live in much fear, stay inside after dusk here
Brush tears from eyelids
Peep violence
And these people is dyin'
I'm wildin'
Old Earth said they wanna move back
But they ain't got enough funds to do that
Back in 1980, from Philly to Queens
She had a pocket full of lint, he had a suitcase full of dreams
From holdin' me to bagging groceries at the Pathmark
To scoldin' me for drinking and driving in fast cars
Juvenile shit
I ain't really tryin' to rap about
I don't remember from b-b-ba b-blackin' out
These days, I'm mostly focused on my bank account
I ain't backin' out until I own a bank to brag about
A local institution, life of the party
With him and at him, brown Chris Farley
Kalapani K?lid?sa, Vijay from Pyaasa
Wiles out at night, can't breathe through his nostrils
Poppa need his medicine
Reticent to let them in
Hesitant better when
In elegant letterman's
And other fresh shit, to distract you

[Chorus]

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