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Coolzey says: 'I wrote the first verse of this song while PRZM was alive and the 2nd verse just after he passed. He was in bad shape during the year we were collaborating on this album and I tried to visit him in Sacramento when I could. The day I recorded these verses I was stuck inside sick with a severe fever and I was sitting in my bed sweating but determined to lay down this track. I believe I was channeling PRZM because my style sounds a lot like his on this verse and I've never sounded like this before or after. PRZM was like a mentor to me and I miss his point of view and sense of humor.'

lyrics

Winter in the midwest is brutal
Overcast skies and bare trees
Every day is like a funeral
Church bells ring out ominous tones
Carried on the harsh wind that chills your bones
Gravestones covered in snow can't read the names
Just a bunch of rotting corpses with worms in their brains
The air is thick with old souls
People who we used to be
Past lives haunt us
There's no way to get immunity from old souls
Old deeds done dirt cheap
Just to make a buck catch a fuck or find a place to sleep
Face the creep in the cellar looking at you in the mirror
Every day you run away but he just gets nearer
The Death of Ivan Ilych
Getting shoved into a black bag
Punks get drink on Jim Beam and bump Black Flag
Slap your brother in the face just to wake him up
He offers you a bump from a key why don't you take him up
Now you're up for good understood
Sweeping up your floor reveal the dark brown wood
Your mind's gone for good but you could never come back
You got the dents in your head but you could never come wack
Never that kill a track
Lead a cat to ruin
Never hear me complain
Shit you know how PRZM's doing
I'm not even going to tell you
Better ask that cat
And if you still give a shit you better blast that cat

Green turns brown and brown turns white
And old turns dead
We look left we look right
But we still all end and
We'll turn out tonight
But don't pretend
Pretend
Green turns brown and brown turns white
And dead

Hip hop heads who don't rotate Spitball
I hate to burn bridges but
Bitch I ain't with y'all
Why don't you go band your bloody head into a brick wall
Or dive into a pool of alligators like Pitfall
Midwest we drag chains like Jacob Marley
Get fat and die like Biggie and Chris Farley
Ignorant and misled we evil
I'm like the kid from the Sixth Sense
Because I see dead people
Surrounded by them pounded by them
Old souls we're hounded by them
They built the big buildings
Corporations were founded by them
Old blood old death lingers like a perfume
But more like a stench so foul that it could clear a room
So fear the moon because that's when they become strong
This is a cautionary tale it's not a love song
And this isn't horrorcore this is real life
On the way home you could get stabbed with a real knife
Maybe out of desperation
Maybe out of spite
Maybe you were walking through the wrong hood at night
But either way inside builds a rage you can't control
And as your life leaves your body you become just another
Trapped between worlds seeking revenge for a mideed
Looking for a weak willed human that you could mislead
Because hate begets hate
The boomerang is coming back
RIP DJ PRZM homie thank you for the track

credits

from Coolzey vs PRZM, released June 6, 2008
Coolzey - Vocals and Arrangement
DJ PRZM - Music
The Rhombus - Chorus Vocals
Daren Ho - Violin

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Coolzey Fairfield, Iowa

Golden era hip-hop roots planted in black Iowa dirt are the foundation. Growth tempered by alternative era rock influence. This along with a love for the juxtaposition of the dark, horrific nature of life paired with a slapstick and comedic view of the world allow for a wide, unpredictable arsenal ranging from soul-spilling indie bedroom rock to wise-cracking battle rap and on to radio pop. ... more

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