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catch ciphers ep

by Chocolate Bread

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1.
i want your tongue to kick my teeth we can bathe our skin on any of the lawns we please if you're looking for a feeling then let's cop a bag we can practice our patience with the slowest drags like…i tune my mind to your curves shadows over shoulders blur connected at the lip by melted words while i'm feeling you out and getting lost in the dirt. don't we all just want to grab the sky and feel it cool our palms? then you're gone i fall back in the dust again...and you'll be coming around, pulling me out.
2.
freak out 03:04
dirty shelter from the storm never catch me in a clean coat, most tryna rock the mic's a mean joke, as much promise as an i.o.u. a fiend wrote, can't blame 'em for tryin': spittin' y'all the illll dope. got the place dry heavin' sick like the magician technique i got you peepin', bring the raw shit every single weekend exorcist tones casting out your demons, the power of del compels, words complex like potions and spells. slow incision on the creep: you operate with shaky hands insurance policy takes effect and comes up quick to cop your land, you shouldn't've got nervous. i'm titanic ice berg large under the surface: always steady calm. anarchist cookbook off the internet teach kids to make them ready bombs. lyrical organics homegrown flow but the seed ain't planted in the dirt holier than church rooted in something higher than any solar planet known to earth. electric headbob junkies infiltrate the system? i knock 'em out like Liston so pay attention to my verbal addiction, i'm hot so stay the fuck up out the kitchen. straight rhymes never walkin' in straight lines, i get my energy from cheeba and grape vines, super side-kick aimin' straight for the waistline, only mc that can manipulate time with great rhymes and power plays, i'm mixing my gin & tonic with that "get you high for 3 hour haze" i rise the way the flour bakes and i apologize if i leave y'all rappers with a sour taste inside your mouth i'm freakin' it out when i speak it out, fuckin' bitch i keep it hot like a greenhouse, i swear to god y'all need practice i mean how do you plan to beat a man who can defy the laws of earth's axis? dropping' the thesis gimme the mic and i will beast it strategic flow so sharp i'm cutting your shit to pieces, it's easy. just try to step into the noggin, the don is just tryin to break y'all off with something mind-boggling.
3.
4.
hot sauce more often in a dank spot than not, type to have a trick up the sleeve even in a tank top, ride a summer breeze sleep wherever the crank stop, spit so tough it's been known to shank rocks. fiends smoke the pieces, share the wealth enough to max out visas but who needs it? living the dream kid, absolutely wide awake. lots of dudes is kinda fake, get around that rockin' on the swerve like a snake, catch a cipher: feeling great, cop a loosey post the bake and that's a good session. lots of heads going all-in i just rob whoever's betting. content above most they can't even stick their head in on point even when i'm guessing, verbal weapons. not one for interviews but to answer your question…delshine found the end of the night followed a snot line, wasn't any gold but that pots fine, fat dimes, no gat rhymes, elevation in my speech exercising your mind. the holiest of dopey kids drinking that and smoking this, candy flip fall in love with whatever shit crosses his grip, the craziness. he's even pet the visions and still bust flows with the dexter precision. highest of living grown in the dome so flow is never kidding, not a child. stress the point and dope enough to get wild, roll with hot sauce in viles, take a shot or a bump: leave parties in piles. shit don't change you can't project the sun when you're still hanging in the shade that's just a fake tan. everybody's on the cake scam, greed in the batter it's contagious when they shake hands. i got the remedy, walk up in the spot and make the people wanna yell at me just scuffin' their shoes not giving a fuck about appearances, huffing' the blues. life moves, who do you choose to lose? handful of keepers. the vocab sounds fly out the shittiest of speakers, trine spread the sound: big ups to the leakers. pride being honest in a land full of cheaters with politician smiles. you're all filler like the grout between my kitchen tiles. blue cheese emotions are reflections of gods, i got 7 body parts that directly correlate with the stars, improving movement planetary shuffle up on my playlist and i blaze shit and i'm kicking that quality imagination. meditation on my third eye never blinded never rewinded i'm flippin' a flow so dope that it's hard to define it. grinding with my chocolate fam until the sun stops shining (and we gon' keep grinding) and if the shit goes out then i'ma spit in the shade i get laid got a 5th and some haze, genius i never slip on the grade A spit i got y'all trippin' for days: acid fantastic, jurassic on my verbal dissections, told y'all motherfuckers i'm keepin' it interesting, my mind remains forever stretching intellect attained via cipher catching (brains) ventricles pumping quite swiftly, my character trait states that no rappers can bang with me, you teddy bear kiddies can't rumble with the grizzly, nope, i'm still floating through the air type frisbee snapping your necks like rice krispies (ohhh lord) you know what the don has in store verbal wars of course i'm kicking the illest realest metaphors, pure raps natural as bacon coming from boars, ass-shaking coming from whores, perspiration coming from pores.
5.
6.
i seen the rich get richer and the poor get fucked, this breed of business men who don't got no love. controlled by the $$$, our america, doing anything for oil, blowing up. put the fear in our minds made a police state, gave us all a target and taught us to hate but we got as much progress as the facts they gave. you gotta open up your eyes man to see the only thing they feel here is greed got a knife in you're back now you can't believe but you will never mean as much to them as money 'cuz that's the nature of the paper. successful men ain't got no friends 'cuz that money always comes at someone else expense, you know it. better watch your back with technology they got cameras creeping down every street now you can't even talk shit to your best friend without the whole town finding out up on the internet. anything you lost you know they got it, they ain't just shaking hands they're picking pockets, swallowing your mind with tv screens and selling you to buy all them fucked up dreams. you know it.
7.
BITE 02:34
"But it was also remorse, the aggrieved expression of one's conscience, as already stated, or, if we prefer to describe it in suggestive terms, a conscience with teeth to bite." - José Saramago "Blindness" it suits you best to not care, that's why they wanna dumb it down, well i slithered like a snake does and it don't help getting around, it's a fight with the air eating consequences you're gonna have to taste unless you're numb enough to disregard when it smacks you in the face… i watch the smoke dance in the beam, but my life ain't one big dream, yeah. the shit i need: i ain't sticking 'round just to watch it bleed. it's what i feed, eventually is gonna consume me. (we're gonna need that, twenty minutes down the road where the disease at, stop the shaking and the cold.) oh honey where do i begin? what's a little habit between some friends? time slips when you're locked in, caught inside the swirl again istumbleintodaysdon'trecognizemyfacecontemplatemywaysihearmyconsciencesay: "i'm gonna get ya, gonna eat you from the inside out. i'm gonna sneak inside your bedroom and you ain't ever gonna sleep at night. go ahead go where you want to, do and destroy who you wanna but just remember it's gonna BITE." i watch the smoke dance in the beam, but my life ain't one big dream.

about

Recorded at Soundwaves Studio in Union, NJ
Recorded, Engineered and Mixed by Joey Stasio
Mastered by Thomas Stratton
*except for the interludes which are home recordings
*Track 3 features The Roots and Weird Al's "Accordian" instrumental and a spit by Antwan.
*Track 5 appears courtesy of Schmedz with the music written and recorded by Ryan Egan and the spit by Del-hi.

credits

released August 3, 2011

All music written and arranged by Chocolate Bread
All lyrics written by the person spittin', respectively.

Chocolate Bread:
Del - Vocals, Rhythm Guitar
Antwan the Don - Vocals, Keys
Matty Moges - Lead Guitar
Taylor Mandel - Keys, Trumpet, Vocals
Feggens Monbroun - Bass
Paul Brasil - Drums/Percussion

Additional Musicians:
Sara Salermo - Vocals on tracks 1, 4, 7
Ryan Egan - Percussion on track 6

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Chocolate Bread New Jersey

Chocolate Bread (el chocolaté) was an experimental/soul group based out of Union, NJ from 2009-2012. Known for their high energy live shows, prolific sets, and dedicated fan base, they were a staple of the underground NJ music scene.

contact: chocolatebreadband@gmail.com
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