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1.
Tell me why I shouldn’t cry The guy who killed my friend killed himself before I caught him alive Now that’s unfortunate for both sides We used to throw paper planes and watch them nosedive He caught a bad one, his sister just dropped out of school And caught a fast one, a greyhound running on fumes I’m fumed though like South Philly’s Vincent Fumo In my dreams I can’t fight, my arms move slow You can’t fight what’s coming up next So I’m hotter than the liquor on your breath, breath Breathe carefully, don’t share the same air as me The greenhouse effect and bounced checks only scare me Not your bullshit, your spine is made of Big League Chew We used to cop that for 50 cents That ain’t new, stop that, you’re turning my screws I want to smash your fucking face but then your face would improve “Not cool” I know that, my friends might hold that I might say the word and you might get your vote scratched But I elect to keep you on the ticket ‘Cause satisfaction comes from watching you living Badly, you catch me in a donnybrook I’ll bandage Bruce Banner or Bigelow Bam Bam with bangers Bad man coming’s, quiet anger Quite danger-ous to be a hanger-on, all arms get cut-off That’s you baby, that’s him, that’s her Bad news baby, and that’s for sure Hook Look inside my eyes, all fire no fury My ex-bitch married some douche, no fury Some asshole hit my car, no fury He who loses control, loses Look inside my eyes, all fire no fury These jerkoffs wanna talk shit, no fury I’m the designated driver every weekend, no fury He who loses control, loses I’m focused on the upper echelon Rose petals I step on like grown men who sleep with a dress on This is comedy no more My man was stop-lossed three times for the same…war Pardon me for not giving you change Horribly I look strange, remarkably I’m caged I want to just scream and flip over tables Throw me in the slam with Suge, we’ll start a new label And I’m signing ever fuck-ass who played me light This ain’t the song, I’ll knock you and still say goodnight Wild river bank, think tank reminder, I’ll grind ya Supply you to the crickets and critics will find it pious Pile on the fucking debt that I kept Riding home from a session while your bitch ass slept Boogie man with the buzz cut is waking me up I see no evil, tape my eyes shut, no fury, I’m nuts Hook Look inside my eyes, all fire no fury I can’t catch a break in this town, no fury This fuckbag owes me two stacks, no fury He who loses control, loses Look inside my eyes, all fire no fury Whatever happened to matinee prices, no fury I left my fuckin phone in that cab, no fury He who loses control, loses Good writers never die, wack rappers do I chop bad apples into apple pie or apple juice Half of you won’t be here next year The other half that does will still pay to enter clubs And even then, you’ll pay ten bucks for Long Islands And get no airplay, your song’s too violent But this ain’t for the ladies sweating on the dancefloor This is for drunk dude by himself, therefore I fear no reprocussions over DM’s productions He plus me equals we be disgusting I be online with my CD’s hustling You sell used cars with weak speech stuttering You’re cumber bunning it, but I’m cool as cucumbers It’s stunning, the fire in my eyes like a storm cloud thundering I’m Wonder Boy, the Natural, sparks raining on the field I can’t lose control with nerves like steel Hook Look inside my eyes, all fire no fury Another packed show, no dough, no fury My favorite Dunks got hit with mud, no fury He who loses control, loses Look inside my eyes, all fire no fury I paid that fucking bill on time, no fury Another record store closed down, no fury He who loses control, loses
2.
03:10
I give dirt naps to third party bird baths Watching like a house cat, you quiet as a church rat (Back in the days) Back in the days I was tentative Ricky Rachtman, summer days, Bon Jovi "Bad Medicine" (Slow it down) Take it down slowly Art house bitches are found around homie You clowns are roadies Check my mic levels, make sandwiches, baloney No kitchen staff, no kids just yet But one day I'll be a dope father My pops had a heart attack scare, why bother? To worry about some internet love (Who the hell is this?) The blog boys got holes and can't fill 'em up Cause a Zshare link don't equate to real buzz Take a walk with half of Clean Guns I'm stunting on a budget but I still clean up (WHAT!) Bouncing back from Camden to Delaware You dancing in my puddles, no Fred Astaire, never there Null in void, neverless, live alone, I'm spitting less CAUSE SHIT AIN'T BEEN MOVING ME! So I base my latest chase and tastes on old movies Wear tie clips, slide sly dick in broads bougie Then I dump'em for a two dollar lunch It's good karma, Shadowboxers always practice their punch (POW!) Sock you straight in your kisser And I'm diesel, motherfuckers I've been training all winter So that dirt nap I give you is warranted You wanna live marvelous? Shit, you just Marmaduke A big dog based on pure fiction And women think scars are cute, come get some Heavy melodic, run around quiet compound Only Megan Fox could make me wanna dumb it down He's counting minutes for the record date He speaks in third person like Metal Face Doomsday, Soothsay Hey Kid's your favorite New shoes and ill suits on my back, I made it But this is just the prequel From the boy who played ball five blocks from B. Sigel I got my Bachelor's, I'm forced to regal You logged on a messageboard, you're forced to be feeble [Bridge] Dirt naps, giving out dirt naps Dirt naps, giving out dirt naps Dirt naps, giving out dirt naps Dirt naps, giving out dirt naps [Chorus] Cable man gotta fix my mic Short circuit for the Slow Twilight Can't remember my Friday nights Half moon speaks the Slow Twilight Cable man gotta fix my mic Short circuit for the Slow Twilight Can't remember my Friday nights Half moon speaks the Slow Twilight
3.
4.
Her name was Brandy, a white russian Hair smelled like toasted almonds So I played it Tom Collins, kinda sweet not a problem We linked Up at Long Island while in college She was making rounds playing My Fair Lady I tended bar at the Smoky Martini She walked in on the 7th of July With green eyes that shined like tequila sunrise I said it's still early, we don't serve until 1 She said it's hot, i need a spritzer from the sun I told her pucker up or something, I ain't serving She said "I'm old fashioned, daddy fix me a bourbon" Hook 2x Drinking at one? No, sorry I lied It's 2, 3, 4, 5 o'clock SOMEWHERE Five quarters in the jukebox Two for five dollars, happy hour Her name was Ruby, a white lady Skin smelled like Bay Breeze, she drove me crazy We shared paradise in Cuba Libre A quick fuck, a BJ, we moonwalked for three days But the amaretto quickly turned sour Cause Harvey Wallbanged her while Jack and Coke plowed her A rusty nail ripped through my heart of fire Set me off like a carbomb, she was the driver I followed Ruby as she trimmed Satan's whiskers Screwdrived her front door, looked through her pictures Then Harvey walked in with an irish flag I turned around scared, smacked him, then he laughed I pulled my .357 from the waist Aimed at his face, he swallowed hard, no chase He tried to move, I started firing He said, "It's St. Patty's Day, everybody's Irish!" Hook 2x It’s going down bitches, listen, my addiction is ripping Like gears shifting, and my world’s Sprewell’s spinning Take pictures Andre Aggrassi, brown baggedy tragedy Banging penny shots with copper cavities Crazy straw for the 20/20, funny funny Always sunny silly Philly, no money bloody bloody 3 O’clock call my cuddle buddy and her cousin Trying to poke her face like Kid Cudi though her grill’s busted Number 7 bussing it, busting on customers Cussing like a sailor tell children “ear mufflers!” Go to Mieneke, my Hieneken’s reminding me While I’m puking up some chia-nese like a hydrant Liquidation like Catastrophe and E-Swift I King Tut my secrets like Egypt I keep them Falling off the wagon no horses to carry me Divorce is not option till our bartender marries me Hook 2x
5.
[Intro] Ice ice ice Gold gold gold Lives lives lives *Burp* [Zilla Rocca] This is No Reso, cold metal, don't forget Nobody panics when Iraqi children get wet We, take it back to little league: we win, we eat Pepsi/Coca-Cola, sin or deceit There's no water in the hydrants no more Cars and newspapers, shit I ain't buyin no more Oh my! I tossed my smokes in the river and I watched them float While the noose got tight around the informant's throat I got my gloves on, I moved on, I whisper a song Think about my face and how it looked before I was born I been a, local god with the twilight spoiler Took him, at least a lawsuit from all my employers You wrong, set in motion my notion to keep it silent Eyes grow wide, here's a porkchop for lions man Why don't you take a dip inside a shark tank? Test your fuckin faith, we ain't the people that God thank [Has-Lo] Thinkin' bout taking my own life, I might as well The world is about to end, the guy with the sign can tell He's my new CNN satellite Shove a bottle mouth in a bag in your back, hold 'em high For your ID that I keep In five weeks, be on your way to being a vet or meet death Gave him that ultimatum, next day he had the best eggs he ever tasted You don't know me anymore You art and repetoire couldn't hold me in the form I got a head full of violence that thus ends I'm way beyond frat boys who crush cans Reading anarchy fan zine pages Print them at school and give my dorm new wallpaper The security can bill me I'll be on the quad cleaning my concealed piece [Elucid] Straight you see sun through the haze fog, fluffing them stone pillows Can't cry me a river, kiddo Nickel size hole in my pocket, can I cock it? Yes I can indeedy here's the plan to make it speedy Fuck the God who you believing in, survival be the premium Shake em like a preemy, pardon me this shit is tedious Strong arm expedian, make em feel the fever motherfucker Bloody eyes and all, so disgusting My American Graffitti bomb the galaxy, I'd rather be Unlacing my Adidas, kick my feet up on Polaris All I see is static, crippled by the deficit Never second guess, I see niggas killed for less than this I just want a bigger piece, let the trigger squeeze Sirens screaming in my dreams, such a freaky scene Wanna run at me at your own risk I'm only blowing steam to keep on loading them cold clips [Nico the Beast] Yeah, there's no resolution, men are using dead excuses Seven heads are rolling, never lose it, keep a cool head The evolution of better music, my execution perfected I never lose my grips until you're all dead I'm tripping out on acid, a manic depressive No expression, life is heading in a tragic direction, yeah I have no fear of the gods, you hearing me God? The thought of my son's ashes brings a tear to my eye, yeah It's alarming how much karma is charming its way Into slimmer margins like "'Scuse me, pardon me babe" Part of me smartily says "You gotta behave" The other part is saying "Fuck it" that part of me stays The economy is calling me names like Deadbeat, Loser, Low Life Yeah all of these things I'm bugging out, I wanna be something for once Fuck sleep, I'm about to fuck her cousin and run, Beast [Chorus] This is no reso, cold metal, dope distribution And no resolution will save you tonight This is no reso, cold metal, slow execution And no resolution will save you tonight This is no reso, cold metal, dope distribution And no resolution will save you tonight This is no reso, cold metal, slow execution And no resolution will save you tonight
6.
7.
03:27
[Hook] Motherfuckers getting nulified, nulified Lullaby, lullaby, sing for me baby Motherfuckers getting nulified, nulified Lullaby, lullaby, sing for me baby Motherfuckers getting nulified, nulified Lullaby, lullaby, sing for me baby Motherfuckers getting nulified, nulified Lullaby, lullaby, sing for me baby Small victory, big defeat Buy CD's for the good shit, the garbage my computer keeps MacBookPro, I'm backed by the good folks At Beat Garden Entertainment, hard shit for fucking laymens Hard shit for hard rocks, heart collapse Bitches airbrush "Shadowboxer" on the ringfinger Flipping packages but don't deliver, NARC cats Find yourself a Dog Whisperer, don't bark back I used to date a barback with scars on thighs A broke down Chevy, never asked for a ride (I loved her) Then she left me for a lawyer I told her "I'm your Huckleberry, not Tom Sawyer" (So beat it) The mic is on so leave it Low cut t-shirt with cleavage, I flow so indecent No proposal is needed, I see it, I speak it A banger in the inbox is nothing, it's how you freak it Like some jailbait Lolita, low dose Adidas You a fucking joke I don't repeat-a Throw some turkey on my pita But no mayonaisse cause my sodium intake is lethal Here's a message for the people: black, Latin and white Flow God, Douglas Martin, Mack and the Knife And to these motherfuckers blah blahing the blah My blog is ClapCowards.com, don't read it [Hook] Motherfuckers getting nulified, nulified Lullaby, lullaby, sing for me baby Motherfuckers getting nulified, nulified Lullaby, lullaby, sing for me baby Motherfuckers getting nulified, nulified Lullaby, lullaby, sing for me baby Motherfuckers getting nulified, nulified Lullaby, lullaby, sing for me baby Bring the dough in, income is nodding off Bills are a nightmare, do I check for you? (Not at all) Those spending days are nulified Other rappers lie to you and namedrop cars they will never drive Like we all need entertainment To keep our mind off the mortgage payment, but just acknowledge that Me? I'm living good, I got the college cash Washed in a blue collar laundromat, won't hand it back But I'm money folding, no gloating Throwing coal in the furnace, they hot for a moment So I'm with that, bad with powertools Jack Bauer drum breaks, crispy clean Howard Hughes OCD Clean Gun factory, bullets kiss Clorox so rapidly Your dreams are nulified, outta reach Permanent summertime, man how's the heat? [Hook] Motherfuckers getting nulified, nulified Lullaby, lullaby, sing for me baby Motherfuckers getting nulified, nulified Lullaby, lullaby, sing for me baby Motherfuckers getting nulified, nulified Lullaby, lullaby, sing for me baby Motherfuckers getting nulified, nulified Lullaby, lullaby, sing for me baby
8.
[Zilla Rocca] They brought me on the case after day 17 Former Beauty Queen vanished at 33 The buttons had no leads or motives I had to chase rats with more dosage This case was explosive, a skirt on the lam with no notions Just a ransom note sent with twelve roses The flowers reminded me of a pimp named Marco Who strung out angels on charm and strong nectar I knew him from before as a failed actor Now he chased kittens of the queen's stature Caught him at Bob's Place, yanked him by the throat Broke his thumbs before he even sang a note "What do you know about this girl?", pulled out the picture He whistled like a wolf, I punched his kisser He said, "She probably pulled a dutch act, or maybe she's a tweeker Or she kidnapped herself, they are attention seekers Those pretty ones" [Chorus-Jawnzap7 & Miss Amy] She's my dead queen, a pawn's wet dream The king's red beam Aiming at your neck now The bishop, knight, rook all look Shook to the core Her body laying on the floor, wow She's my dead queen, a pawn's wet dream The king's red beam Aiming at your neck now The bishop, knight, rook all look Shook to the core Her body laying on the floor, wow [Zilla Rocca] I grabbed the northside trolley, to see Johnny Her former manager, he seemed sorry, probably Discovered the queen when she was 16 A failed romance between them, she left him at 23 The number 1 suspect but he was spotless It doesn't mean he wasn't the accomplice He noted that she had a drug problem since August She lost sponsors, then went to rehab and got a sponsor All of this well known, so why was she gone now The tip line was overflowing and they lost count The ransom note seemed legit and Johnny went down To the drop point, but nobody showed up The FBI called it a hoax and moved south Johnny pleaded, he knew she was alive somehow I said, "when's the last time you went to her house?" He said, "It's a been awhile, let's head there now" [Chorus--Jawnzap7 & Miss Amy] She's my dead queen, a pawn's wet dream The king's red beam Aiming at your neck now The bishop, knight, rook all look Shook to the core Her body laying on the floor, wow She's my dead queen, a pawn's wet dream The king's red beam Aiming at your neck now The bishop, knight, rook all look Shook to the core Her body laying on the floor, wow [Bridge--Jawnzap7 & Miss Amy] She sleeps in the earth cause the rent is dirt cheap and Responsibly green, know what I mean? She lies in a state of perpetual grace and Waiting for praise, nothing to say She sleeps in the earth cause the rent is dirt cheap and Responsibly green, know what I mean? She lies in a state of perpetual grace and Waiting for praise, nothing to say [Zilla Rocca] Knocked on the door, Johnny would go in No signs of foul play, though gas fumes were potent Duct taped her mouth, handcuffed her own skin Kidnapped herself (her body laying on the floor now) Roses on the counter, past issues of Oprah Hoped to rebrand herself on talkshows an' A plot so wise, but she was thwarted by Carbon monoxide (her body laying on the floor now) [Chorus--Jawnzap7 & Miss Amy] She's my dead queen, a pawn's wet dream The king's red beam Aiming at your neck now The bishop, knight, rook all look Shook to the core Her body laying on the floor, wow She's my dead queen, a pawn's wet dream The king's red beam Aiming at your neck now The bishop, knight, rook all look Shook to the core Her body laying on the floor, wow
9.
["Blast of Silence" clip] Just one more killing then you're through One more to die, and then you won't have to be alone... [Zilla Rocca] My man said he had a weak st-st-stomach The Twilight is Slow, now we run it We gladiate and salivate, shit is never great Shoot up your movie theater, South Philly Christmas Day There's no coming attractions when I run up and blast it A garbage bag on death's door, pack it In like Flynn, the kingpin shoots black dice Karma won't ask nice, act right Motherfuckers doing magic on Star Search Well take a look inside a book like Levar Burt' Man my heart hurts, and murmurs and beats now Peel off wigs like Bush/Cheney decals God lives in the details Paint me with a broad stroke, I'm a ghost, I don't beast out My man does that, I don't kick rough raps This is Living Proof, give me Dap, you're a Nutcrack-er [Chorus] Don't speak to the weak of heart These weak motherfuckers never play their part Don't speak to the weak of heart Don't eat on a weak stomach, play your part [Curly Castro] Yeah dead moon on New Year's Eve Roll with Ali Baba and the Beat Garden of Thieves I'm allergic to the bullshit so pardon my sneeze Spit 30 Days of Night, leave the city to bleed No silence, leave prints, fuck CSI Roll with Morgan and the Frat, shoot wings off flies Hybrid, share a bed with Beckinsale Me and Rocca Broke Clocks, now you're Nullified Beards past five o'clock cause we never shave Never raise on a bet when the count is off Weak stomach from that arsonic and old lace Them old bitches is safe, they was never caught Run Sin City in some charcoal Chucks Cause I'm selfish at heart, not giving a fuck Had a nightcap with hip hop, the chivalry stuck Threw a roofie in H.E.R. drink, got her throwing it up [Chorus] Don't speak to the weak of heart These weak motherfuckers never play their part Don't speak to the weak of heart Don't eat on a weak stomach, play your part [Zilla Rocca, Curly Castro] I shop around for my crime rates My $2 gas, the Delorean's in the driveway, why wait Your garbage raps with Mr. Fusion No better place to put it, don't look at me sideways I got cannons that spray and they dampen your face Recession time, rappers can't get a fucking date, no Your ass is a dollar short and more than week's late Petro is pricey, it saves you the gasface I'm a blue collar comet, with shoe polish, I promise Your crew's like a drivethru boombox, it's bollocks Beat Garden collards for when I get my smoke on Respect to Tupac but this ain't "The Same Song" So take it how you wanna take it, me and Castro underrated But David Lynch said, "They're my favorite" We Willie and Marcus, the wolf and the hybrid When we talk shadows, we don't let the light in [Chorus] Don't speak to the weak of heart These weak motherfuckers never play their part Don't speak to the weak of heart Don't eat on a weak stomach, play your part ["Blast of Silence" clip] You're not marked up, that's a break You're sweating all over your body You tell yourself it's the steam heat, but you know the radiator's been cold all night You know you'll stay in this sweat till they find the body and the news breaks

about

"Not content with releasing one of the finest debuts of 2009, 5 O’Clock Shadowboxers followed it up last April with an arguably better EP. The brilliance of Broken Clocks is in the way it takes a panorama scope – with a greater number of collaborators, remixes and samples – and turning it into a more focused record. Blurry Drones is a ferret with the crates, digging up aural gold and flipping it the simplest and most effective way. But he and Zilla Rocca have also loosened up their neckties, altering what was previously moody and shoulder-shuffling to something ready for the floor. On the mic, Zilla sounds lean and confident, his flows crackling with black-tongued wit. Get your claws on this EP or risk getting clocked out."--Matt Shea

Broken Clocks Glossary, a guide to understand the hard-boiled language of 5 O'Clock Shadowboxers

Bird baths: onlookers
Blue collar laundromat: nine-to-five job
Boogie man: police officer
Bottomfeeders: gossip folks
Buttons: police
Chalk: shotgun shell
Cold metal: old pistol
Crazy straw: cocaine habit
Dirt naps: funeral/coffins
Dollar store: shooting gallery
Dosage: bribes
Drivethru boombox: weak music
Dutch act: to vanish
Eric Lindros: divisive hockey star for the Philadelphia Flyers
Lolita: temptuous young lady
Low dose Adidas: exclusive sneakers
On the lam: on the run
Paper planes: money
Permanent summertime: Hell
Powertools: automatic weapons
Skirt: female
Step-dad: imposter
Think tank reminder: brilliant idea
Twilight spoiler: a drink before sundown
Two dollar lunch: alcohol

credits

released March 30, 2010

5 O'Clock Shadowboxers are Douglas Martin aka Blurry Drones and Zilla Rocca.

All songs produced by 5 O'Clock Shadowboxers
All beats by Douglas Martin aka Blurry Drones except where noted

Recorded, mixed, and mastered by Zilla Rocca @ The Lizard Lounge. Philadelphia, PA from April 2009-March 2010

Artwork by Objektiv 1

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Three Dollar Pistol Music Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Zilla Rocca: The #1 Bourbon General. The Career Crook. The Future Former Rapper. The man with a '96 Mentality. The owner of Three Dollar Pistol Music. The calm voice amongst the Wrecking Crew. South Philly's finest crime author.

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