Monday Mixtape, Vol. 158

Put your headphones on, put the volume on high, and let Run the Jewels wake you up.

RTJ, this generation’s Rage Against the Machine, released their new album, RTJ4, two days early and released this message:

Killer Mike has been in the news recently due to his impassioned plea to the people of Atlanta amidst the looting amidst the protests in the wake of George Floyd:

If you haven’t listened to this, please do.

So Run the Jewels released their newest album amidst a lot going on in our world and country. It’s an amazing album full of deep reflections (“I used to wanna get the chance to show the world I'm smart. Isn't that dumb? I should've focused mostly on the heart.”), humor (“I’m chubby, husky, thighs rubbin’, fuckin’ up my Levi’s”), bravado (“Stack addict, a mack with blackest fabric, I’m back”), and sense amongst chaotic and raucous beats that fill the entire air with energy.

The album is the energizer bunny, stomping and banging its cymbals. Killer Mike, as usual, holds court, and El-P plays Robin (don’t forget he also produces RTJ’s beats along with the help of others) better than anyone.

“I’m ready to mob on these fucking charlatans,” raps El-P at the end of “yankee and the brave (ep. 4).”

“Every child, woman and man / Opinion don't matter, stick to your plan / If they judge, still don't budge / Don't give a inch, don't give a nudge / Life a bitch, leave you battered and bent / Lose or win, gotta hold up your chin / And I put it on Jaime and me / We just gave you inspiration for free / The money never meant much.” - Killer Mike

You have to listen to the album yourself to feel the vibe, the urgency, and Run the Jewels holding homily. It’s epic. It’s what we need.

And on that note, I’ll leave you with RTJ’s lyrics from their last track, “a few word for the firing squad (radiation):”

El-P:
I woke up early once again, that's four days straight
I didn't wake you, baby, I just watched you lay
In the radiation of the city sun
I am in love with you, it is my only grace (Woo)
You know how everything can seem a little out of place?
All of my life, that seemed to be the only normal state
So feelin' normal never really meant me feelin' sane
And bein' clear about the truth and bein' sane have never really been the same
I used to wanna get the chance to show the world I'm smart (Ha)
Isn't that dumb? I should've focused mostly on the heart
'Cause I seen smarter people trample life like it's an art
So bein' smart ain't what it used to be, that's fuckin' dark
You ever notice that the worst of us have all the chips?
It really kinda takes the sheen off people gettin' rich
Like maybe rich is not the holy, ever-lovin'
King of nothin' fuckers, know we know you're bluffin'
You are dealing with the motherfuckin' money-money runners

Killer Mike:
It'd be a lie if I told you that I ever disdained the fortune and fame
But the presence of the pleasure never abstained me from any of the pain
When my mother transitioned to another plane, I was sitting on a plane
Tellin' her to hold on, and she tried hard, but she just couldn't hang
Been two years, truth is I'll probably never be the same
Dead serious, it's a chore not to let myself go insane
It's crippling, make you wanna lean on a cup of promethazine
But my queen say she need a king, not another junkie, flunky rapper fiend
Friends tell her, "He could be another Malcolm, he could be another Martin"
She told her partner, "I need a husband more than the world need another martyr"
Made in Atlanta, Georgia, where I use to ride the MARTA
With a empty .22 in the front pocket of my Braves Starter
Tryin' to make it out the mud as a baby father is much harder
The same children that you love and adore, the court'll use to break and rob ya
Circumstance woulda broke a weaker man, but I put it on my mama
I'm a man of honor and the hardship made me a better money runner

El-P:
This is for the never heard, never even got a motherfuckin' word
This is for my sister, Sarah, honey, I'm so sorry you were hurt (Ayy)
This is for the dawn, mama took a knock, had to change the locks
Dusted up, but brushed off and I watched, talk about a boss
For the holders of a shred of heart even when you wanna fall apart
When you're surrounded by the fog, treadin' water in the ice cold dark
When they got you feelin' like a fox runnin' from another pack of dogs
Put the pistol and the fist up in the air, we are there, swear to God

Killer Mike:
Black child in America, the fact that I made it's magic
Black and beautiful, the world broke my mama heart, and she died an addict
God blessed me to redeem her in my thoughts, words, and my actions
Satisfaction for the devil, goddammit, he'll never, ever have it
This is for the do-gooders that the no-gooders used and then abused
For the truth tellers tied to the whippin' post, left beaten, battered, bruised
For the ones whose body hung from a tree like a piece of strange fruit
Go hard, last words to the firing squad was, "Fuck you too"

Amen.