Song Meaning

The lyrics paint a raw picture of struggle and resilience against overwhelming external pressures and internal demons. The opening lines immediately establish a sense of being attacked and overwhelmed, with the narrator trying to maintain a sense of peace amidst stress that drives them to destructive coping mechanisms like excessive smoking and drinking. The imagery of being "raised by the fire the forges stench" and having "bruises on my legs" suggests a harsh upbringing or environment, forcing a tough, survivalist mentality where days are "counted" and escape is sought through substance abuse. The narrator feels "trapped, by the construct of the past," unable to be honest, leading to a cycle of denial and masking their true feelings. This internal conflict between the desire for peace and the reality of hardship fuels the narrative. The narrator grapples with the "construct of the past" and the "trials" of their path, leading to a feeling of being "masked" and in "denial." There's a clear tension between the external "bastards" who "step on ya neck" and the internal battle to "keep myself blessed." This duality is further emphasized by the narrator's self-awareness of their "pride and anger" and their "ego bout to collapse," highlighting a precarious emotional state. The craft in these lyrics lies in its unflinching directness and the visceral imagery used to convey desperation and defiance. Phrases like "vices never move till ya dead" and "smoke another strain till ya red" create a sense of relentless self-destruction. The contrast between "used to smile but I'm in denial" and the later assertion of "pride" showcases a complex emotional landscape. The narrator's declaration, "I collectivize and keep a track of all you bitches in fact," reveals a defensive posture, turning perceived aggression into a means of self-preservation and perhaps a collective identity against oppressors. The effectiveness of these lyrics stems from their honest portrayal of navigating a difficult existence. The narrator doesn't shy away from the pain, the vices, or the internal turmoil, instead using them as fuel for their expression. The sense of being "trapped" yet simultaneously asserting "pride and anger" creates a compelling tension that resonates with the experience of fighting against external forces while battling internal demons. The raw, almost stream-of-consciousness delivery, punctuated by moments of sharp observation, makes the struggle feel immediate and palpable.

TOBi & KOLLECTOR TZU - Rap, East Coast Rap

COLLECTIVE BASTARDS

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Duration: 3:00

[Verse 1: tobi] These bastards step on ya neck I'm tryna keep myself blessed, but when ya stress through the roof your vices never move till ya dead Tryna keep you stuck on a constant loop and your head, plays games with ya smoke another strain till ya red I'm tryna keep myself blessed, heed the call live by my breath Raised by the fire the forges stench My shirt is stretched and there's bruises on my legs I'm tryna thug it to the next My days counted so I'm smoking by the pound till I'm outеd by the rest Chug the liquor thе mist thicker in my chest I seen the lens flash, I seen men crash Fall in a pit left a stain on the pained glass Took the knife and made a gash My life passed when I grabbed the flask Put it down, honesty been in my raps I'm trapped, by the construct of the past Forbid the truth so I puff puff- And laugh Used to smile but I'm in denial if my path can grow with the trials I'm masked, I've asked philosophers questions of the mass So I filled the pen with answers from my pad I collectivize and keep a track of all you bitches in fact You can talk shit but I tell you what I don't lack Pride and anger my ego bout to collapse I've grown and lingered around fake hoes to tell a fucking trap A punch from tobi always gives a pack I've come around to smoke fags on the same track Like it's sixteen, I smoke to that [Verse 2: KOLLECTOR TZU] It took a long time I'm getting sick of this fickle shit that I riddle with piff I'm over cliffs getting lit with a spliff Mind cross might drift Yo heart froze but ya clock might tick, ya heart stops but the time don't I'm shining every single time zone, from the slaves like iPhone We was coming up in the nation where all my kinds wrong And that's the shit to leave ya mind blown Fourteen stuck in my head And I can't let these tricks get treats, I rub palms with this get rich scheme A read of minds leave ya wrist slit clean But all is money gotta get this cream It's just a custom of rule to get it, got it how a hustler move The shit cloggin up ya mind you get plucked with a tube Under the broom the dirt'll leave you stuck in a room Before I knew it, I was ridden as I dug in my tomb Three degrees you 'gon feel it if you fuckin with TZU I was depressed there was just nothing to do But now I spit it til nirvana as I fuck up the booth And I just did it for my momma as she did it for us My life is mine it's on the line and I ain't giving it up The pride of man it must be swallowed put the shit in a cup And it's that stove top morning niggas whipping it up I'm going xanny, whack niggas don't wanna pay me back He couldn't stand on business, now niggas living handicap Sucker shit, not a fan of that Crackers say white is truth but quick to always ban the black I'ma beast, I'ma dog feel like Luda in '01 Rolling out like a fool bit of Buddha in my blunt Ascending quickly everyday KOLLECTOR moving to the sun You couldn't beat us couldn't shoot us with a gun We smoke that

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Writers: Jordi Alexander Arias
Takhoma Hodges

COLLECTIVE BASTARDS

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TOBi Live

COLLECTIVE BASTARDS

COLLECTIVE BASTARDS

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TOBi Live