1.07.2007
  CCC: Final Cut
John Romeo nods appreciatively what's been done so far. Then he drops one last challenge, of a different sort.

The usual samples, loops, and snare licks drop out, leaving just a deep bass throb, with a wood block tone every couple seconds.


Listen up:
John Romeo exclusive production.
This is the raw edit, the dub plate freshness…
For all the lords and ladies who still be rockin…

Chorus:
It’s T-Town
It’s Thee-Town
It’s Thy-Town
It’s Twi-Town

This is my town, and I’m here cold rockin’ it-
You call it the ghetto- fuck you, put a sock in it.
Twilo don’t stop so don’t you be knockin it-
So put your hands together and start pop-n-lockin it.

See
Twilo ain’t the same since J Rome come around,
By bringing these beats that I found underground.
Now the whole world rockin to the sound of T-town,
Yo everybody yo- it’s time to get down.

I keep the bass and the treble and turn down the middle.
Got a puzzle for you, can you figure my riddle?
While Twilos burns to the ground, sucka ‘Cs play the fiddle-
I’m Filet Mignon, you’re a Sausage McGriddle.

But shit, now hang on, it’s hella wack to talk trash,
All this “I’m this and yer that” is givin me such a rash.
We’re on stage in a rage while The Man gets our cash.
Brush the chip off yo’ shoulder while I pull out my stash.

Chorus: It’s T-Town, etc.

Cue some bhangra-style Indian bitch chanting kinda stuff in the background.

Little girl, yeah, she ten years old:
It’s untold, she’s sold, got lost in the fold,
Growin up in the T gets ya quick real old,
No sun, no fun, just the caves and the cold.

I don’t even know how she even make do-
Her pa she don’t know, ma died when she was two.
Age ten, two jobs, one workin in the mine crew,
The second, well, god damn, I can’t even tell you.

Yeah
You and yo’ crew are too new to this zoo.
T-town suck your soul like a wight touchin you-
If you let it, but forget it, c’mon let’s see what you do,
Holla to the selecta, get the next track to cue.

Chorus, bitch.

You won’t find me in da club, bottle full of bub-
Fuck that, I’m in the streets with the heat on my feets.
I was king of Greyhelm, now I workin’ for cheap-
Bringin beats, so sweet, they lift ya outta Bloodkeep.

Old man, hell yeah, come over on the slave ships.
He’s fuckin seven’y years old but he still rock his hips.
Lost it all, no money, livin in his own shit
But he don’t frown, when down, when he’s lost all his chips

He’s been hit, been beat, we’re talking neg H-Ps,
No equipment, no spells, no friendly NPCs,
Still he’s here, front row, at the CCCs,
Enslave ‘im in Twilos, still he do as he please.

Chorus, cue the piano loop.
Then drop out the back music entirely.

Mother fuckers listen up, got a last tale to tella
Bout a brother from the south, gonna yell acapella
Song to sing bout a king, a fuckin blue blooded fella
Who lost crown country and kids, hella bad, fuckin hella.

Talkin bout me, but who cares? We all gotta story to sing!
Lemme see all those bitches who bought their own bling!
All my soldiers, put ‘em up! We all doin our thing!
In the T, ev’body, yeah, we all fuckin king!

It’s the hard knock life down in Twi, why? Fuckin A who cares?
We ain’t livin underground, we just live downstairs!
We worry bout thieves with –1 daggers, not dragons or bears!
We ain’t got money or sun but we still debonaires!

Because…

And cue it all back up now…

It’s T-Town
It’s Thee-Town
It’s Thy-Town
It’s Twi-Town
(three times around)

Yeah-
It’s my town suckas.
Our fuckin town.
Hell yeaaaaaah!
 
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