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released November 18, 2014

All Tracks Produced by Kno for Knolan Ryan Productions // Executive Producers: Kno & Eligh // Mixed & Mastered by Kno // Photography by Sol Exposure


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CunninLynguists Lexington, Kentucky


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Track Name: Fire In Her Eyes
Deacon The Villain:

the mere sight of her silhouette
most are frightened
yet I sat and lit a cigarette
lost in excitement
she breathed life into my cold strife
plus got fight like 300 without a bowled strike
like lightning
could melt iron mike tyson
so fly
she rules the sky without a pilot’s license
no man in orbit’s safe
not even viking’s in the Nordic states
she like light sun in the morning makes
not son of the morning
more like daughter of dawn
the queen of the summer
none hotter has spawned
she's killin the game
when I’m feelin her flame
it kills stress so the villain remains


She's always had it, blue flame magic inside her basket
the ability to move through pain like you move through traffic
Born that way, like a brick house,
tough and hard to interpret, kept her feelings un-detected
reflective on the surface.
Eartha Kitt with the spit, she could get anything with the wit
she gamed up, she came up off the cats that want to fuck,
on they back they lay, ate like a parfait, no bar code,
she's off the grid, orphan to the streets,
morphing enemies into puzzle pieces, put them in they place.
Inner space filled with pills dissolving in a Hennessy lake
of sadness, a woman's madness, on the brink of a break down.
She finds surrender, and though that may sound like giving in,
she found her way back to self, and from the days that,
she pimped those ho's across the race track,
she found some peace in knowing thats she's decent in the
eyes of god, and she can teach that, a reach back, to the
young girls, on the avenues, with the same flame
tattooed on their corneas

The Grouch:

It's burning
I felt it
She's so hot
And steaming
All words
Are unheard
I sure got
The meaning
No wonder
Just thunder
Much like sun rays at noontime
Or alcohol content in moonshine
Scorching the area of focus
Make ashes of your entire fortress
With one look
It's over
Game done
A soldier
Inside her
The fire!
Track Name: Only The Past
Deacon The Villain:

I mean ta
be in the moment
to really sit still in it
without the pills and other thangs
and get real with it
to not reflect or project these feelings i’m harboring
to not give fuck bout who’s feelings i’m bothering
it’s startling
how hard it is swallowing truth
I’m dry heaving on the daily
need to water my roots
I’m spose to be the type of soldier God would recruit
but I lost my troops and it’s soo hard to regroup
tryna cope
losing hope out following smoke
when I approach
they looking through me as if I was a ghost
cause I’m
not in the present
I’m present
but not my essence
don’t count these seconds, nigga
count your blessings!
but time is money
if a brother ain’t countin’ dollars
I’d be homeless in these mountain hollers
it’s hard
I’m at odds
tween earth and star
but for the moment put the purp in the ‘gar
my nigga
and just...


Learn from my mistakes, raking up the leaves,
burn them in my place, ashes in the breeze.
Smash em in your face, for re-hashing the past,
now you can taste the history, misery and peace.
Yet peace is in the present, so I make a constant effort,
to feel my feet against the street, the way we feel the beat.
Rattle and roll, straddle the bass line like I straddle my goals,
tight. With a whip in sight, with a wit thats like a thousand
sarcastic talk show hosts, and a viscous right jab,
to mic stands, which might land the riches I grab, in the
right place: the heart chakra.
The riches I speak of are not of a monetary operating
system, your lost, obnoxious, non-spirit driven operas are
not my cup of tea. My people fuck with me,
because I'm fucking free! I live in the now,
the futures un-known, but I cook my destiny without a recipe,
just me and god to see beyond.


To the victor goes history
Cover up the the misery
Oppressed seek oppressor for what's meant to be a memory
placed upon papyrus or witnessed with your iris
Degraded through the grapevine soured as the vine is
Still recited by the Pius with approval from the highest
Placed up on the food chain
So slaves can buy a new chain
Freshly topped tombstones
Them graves can get new a name
Spark a conversation after soaking it in butane
Searching for a new lane while waving at the the past
To be the wave of the future but the tides turning fast
Cops already purging in the streets without a mask
The stage is being set with only extras in the cast
The faint of heart can't grasp how the brave can simply laugh
The humor is the hubris to be first to carve the path
And gasp

The Grouch:

Makin' time out of nothin' but everything
Can't is just a word that we never sing
Let it be heard
I make noise from the silence of light
Sights from the science of sound
Profound thoughts
Let's walk, between the seconds they talk
I pay it no mind I know their reference is off
I get my messages straight from the heavens
And share em with my brethren in case they're late to the session
Can you relate to the question?
I can, just a man with a place for progression
face it, bass hits for discussion
it's all the same shit
Spaceships get percussive
I turn clocks with my muscles
Move rocks with a chuckle
Just watch, no buckle
When time is a puzzle then trust this
Life isn't measured it just is
Track Name: 100 Years

100 years and running,
and nothing seems to stop the tears from coming.
Trapped inside a cage built of bone, held together
by rage, and something love like.
Near and dear to spirit, I hear it, it whispers in the
conscience, not a complimentary voice,
it breaks me down and tells me lies so vicious.
Im not like I used to be.
In hind sight, the misery manipulated my life.
Twilight twinkling, representing my stripes, along the journey
earned in a fight like, battle to regain what was lost,
in the Mai-Tai cocktail of my 20's.
In bright bright lights shown across the screen freely,
just so some souls could avoid the same deities.
Devils and demons, Angels and healings, rebels and
reasons, exposing the changing of seasons,
a mangy hound, to the best in show.
The skull can be a prison, if just one kid listens,
then 100 years is worth every sentence, Im on life row


Sentenced to a century
Starting through the bars glaring hard at the sentry
Guarding every scar with a heart feeling empty
Poppi was a star burning gars full of sensi
Reminiscing how he used to stash that
In a white hatchback
Now that money's rare like a pro white halfback
Didn't kill a soul but the system sent him Amtrak
Chance of appeal looking lean like lamb fat
Prison yard sun rays Sunday to Sunday
what he miss is moonlight
Product of a goons life
Howling at the nothing in the sky away from eye sight
Raisin in the sun nothing left ahead but hindsight

The Grouch:

39 in this height climb
Light for a lifetime
Some wrinkles in that
Quiet the mind
Silence the tongue, that's young
61 more trips around the sun 'fore we done
Make it last forever they sang
Then the rain came down turned pleasure to pain
And some couldn't stay sane
They'd run from pillar to post
Even chose to kill they own brains
Or make others feel the strain
Brothers from the same mother ranged
Bipolar to hi roller
Pharmaceuticals for my beautifuls in a stroller
That ain't worth the money
Get the power from the solar
Hit em with the honey
And the natural soul
Show em love, blow em kisses, grow em grub
Need no lifejacket, I can float the tub


In August 63 Earl stood with King, Junior
Pain in his past he dreamed for the future
In 92 he stood with King, Rodney
Trying to leave a better world for his progeny
Living room TV in 63
Saw JFK slumped over in his seat
Hospital bed TV in 08
Watched 44 carry 28 states
The same states that viewed Earl as a heathen
He turned around and shot guns for they freedom
World War II lucky to come back
In 91 he lost a son in Iraq
Enough to make the old man's blood boil
Earl bled for freedom, his son bled for oil
In his belongings cassettes by P.E.
Reminded Earl of the protest songs by Stevie
When Earl was young they lynched kids in the streets
But now the Klan wears Blue not sheets cus...
Track Name: Gas Station Attendant

This is the sound of rushing wind,
a hurricane inside my brain,
I let the storm out through my pen,
then many men will feel my pain.
I blame no one, I am the Shogun,
I am the sun, moon, stars, and emotion,
my gun weighs a ton, point it at the black glass,
blast, then Im out the rain.
Let it loose, let it free, let it exist, then let it be.
Let it go, when I'm in a battle with myself I drop
the hammer so quick, like Geronimo,
scalping the dishonorable ego,
sick like, H1-N1-measles.
Midnight key strokes, typing out my defects,
my assets, at least though, Im looking at my
true face.
Illegal entry, to therapists and outside entities,
centuries Ive been moving about this universe.
Surfing across the Milky way in a filthy way,
but I cleaned my act up like acne, back up
my Mack truck, fill up the trunk with taxing lessons
to maximize my presence on earth for this track meet.
Not a race but, a marathon.
Larger than life like a Mastodon.
Broke, but can't see where the cast is on,
healing fast, and at last its on,
my power is now at 8.5, can't wait till I get to 10.
can't break a man who's made of water, can you
read my grin, can you read my grin?

Deacon The Villain (Hook):

Hydro, can't escape the streets on fire
Wherever you go, see the black smoke
Can't escape the deep desire
To put upon a show

The Grouch:

I ask
Give me the knowledge and wisdom
To craft stronger words and live them
Eliminate all hate from my system
To spread only love's the mission
I get, remember who you are Mr. Corey
Do your part be your own category
Protection and abundance is with you
Be not afraid there's no end to this truth
Help us all to shine I say
Spirit bodies outta mine I pray
& then I call back the pieces of me
That I left in the deepest of seas
Not really work in mysterious ways
But rather search and there will be light
Spread it too and you will be change
Unified by the breath of life


Deacon The Villain:

Dear Deacon,
Seen you at the club last weekend
them jeans was kinda skinny and them bottles pretty frequent
oh, you networkin?
that's what they call it now
it seems to me you really need to set yo wallet down
you thirty something lookin’ like a student in a college town
a mindless zombie all you do is follow sound
and crowns
why you seekin' to be a squire?
when God promised you empires
you've been hired by the highest
yet you lookin’ like the pious
stuck in cycles like dryers
ought to peel you way with pliers
that’s what you seeking to be
yet yellin yolo like it’s promo
an indecent decree


Deeply seeded in heated shouting match between my echo
As I Mutter and stutter through Sutter Kane's manifestation
Sanity is retro
Insanity is now Instagramafication
let the vanity run wild
Double tappin That ass
Done with tappin that ass
Watch officials make it clap with oil bodies and cash
From a highway to heaven 100 something on the dash
To a side street in Hades broke down outta gas
Conflicting of the digital and physical
remake or original
Ass out and dusted folks so close to aboriginal
Lungs screaming dro but them pockets close to Reginald
Got the car note but insurance lookin skeptical
But internet self gotta cool profile
so cool got me wonder what he doing right now
With a pack of dimes lounging by the pool right now
In the finer designer items im returnin right now
be you
Track Name: Too Many Winters
Deacon The Villain:

i'm talking dirt floors
not roads
cold feet
no heat
hoping the insulation got no leaks
stove burning for fo' weeks
they bout to cut the gas off
shawty got 6 kids
youngest with a bad cough
daddy died of cancer
mama was his tiny dancer
but now that fairy tale's atlantis
and nobody's got the answers
and it's freezing
she’s eaten way too many dinners chilled
they don't sell the benadryl
for those colds
ain't no subwoofers for those lows
no chimney for cocoa
froze as a framed photos
all night
bundled with her babies through the long nights
the winter's no pretender
he is no bark
all bite
little lucy was tall fight
would call Christ
but on the same dime go to war come game time
she had to find the will to shine in the dark
sometimes you need winter for fire to spark
thats all im saying


Its evident, theres something heaven sent,
watching over me like the secret service watch the president.
A resident of LAUSD, I was a hesitant little boy,
a little coy, a little shy, inner city schooling was the measurement,
of how I never measured up,
I wasn't tough enough, I couldn't fight, I liked to draw,
I liked to write, and there were times,
when something pulled me left instead of right,
avoiding ass beatings in the alley ways,
by candle light I thought of ways to mangle mics,
if I ever had a chance,
tenements, of my mind, filled with mini me's, telling me
"you can do it!" and "no you can't"
back and forth, fast forward, Legends on the road,
I act a fool, I lose control.
Should of lost my life. Stickin my dick in the dirt.
Dirty women and dirty drug memories tatter the walls,
or decorate the halls now that Ive survived,
Angels in the outfield, thats why Im alive.
Sentiments of a fire place during winter time.

The Grouch:

Warm my soul with this winterfire
Until the wheels fall off boy I'll never retire
Hired for a job they really has no finish
I'm bad bro
Without the bad bro image
Manifestations of a kid with foresight
Intentional aim, use my heat to make more light
'Cause I never knew a cunnin' linguist
To fit in with the crowd
So we come distinguished
Get low like Mingus
The night glows
As we sit around the campground and chant down evil forces
We're who the mic chose
You won't do shit about it mayne
Can't tame these horses
Can't you see my breath breathe?
Is it cold outside or is it just me?
Through many three dog noches most freeze
We keep it lit
Toast to these OG's

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