Song of the Day #2,395: ‘Close Your Eyes (and Count to Fuck)’ – Run the Jewels

run_the_jewelsClosing out this year’s look at the Village Voice Pazz & Jop poll is #20 on that list, ‘Close Your Eyes (and Count to Fuck)’ by Run the Jewels.

This song was originally recorded by Frank Sinatra for his somber saloon song classic, Only the Lonely, but was inexplicably cut from the album just before its release. It was later performed by such artists as Carole King, Joan Baez and John Denver.

Run the Jewels received heaps of critical praise in 2014. I saw the album on countless top ten lists. Hearing them for the first time, I don’t even begin to get it.

Granted, I’m not a hip-hop guy in general, but I think I can appreciate the good stuff. This isn’t good. It’s unlistenable.

[Intro: Zack De La Rocha]
Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them
Fuck the slow mo

[Verse 1: Killer Mike (El-P)]
Fashion slave, you protestin’ to get in a fuckin’ look book
Everything I scribble’s like an anarchist’s cookbook
(Look good, posin’ in the centerfold of Crook Book)
Black on black on black with the ski mask, that is my crook look
How you like my stylin’, bruh?, ain’t nobody smilin’, bruh
‘Bout to turn this mothafucka up like Riker’s Island, bruh
Where my thuggers and my cripples and my blooders and my brothers?
When you niggas gon’ unite and kill the police, mothafuckas?
And take over a jail, give them COs hell
The burnin’ of the sulfur, goddamn I love the smell
Now get to pillow torchin’, where the fuck the warden?
And when you find him, we don’t kill him, we just waterboard him
We killin’ them for freedom cause they tortured us for boredom
And even if some good ones die, fuck it, the Lord’ll sort ’em

[Verse 2: El-P (Killer Mike)]
We out a order, your honor, you’re out a order
This whole court is unimportant, you fuckers are walkin’ corpses
I’m a flip wig synonym livin’ within distortion
I’ll bite into a cyanide molar before you whores win
I’m a New Yorkian, I’m fucked from the jump
I wear my Yankee so tilted I actually walk with a hunch
Look at Mikey, I think he likey, we are sinister sons
(And we the type to greet the preacher with a grin and a gun)

[Hook: Zack De La Rocha]
Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them
Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them

[Verse 3: El-P (Killer Mike)]
A wise man once said, (“We all dead, fuck it”)
Just spit it disgustin’ youngin’ and hold your nuts while you gunnin’
I listened, tatted the sentence on my dick last summer
Now I’ll never get that phrase off my brain, it’s no wonder
I’m here to buy hearts, I got hundreds, honey
The cheaper the parts, the better buy for the money
I’m trained in vagina whisperin’, glistenin’, waitin’ for the christenin’
I know the neighbors can’t help but listen in
A dirty boy who come down on the side dissonance
I can’t even relax without sirens off in the distances
Not shittin’ you, little buddy, this fuckin’ island’s a prison
The only solace I have is the act of conjugal visitin’

[Verse 4: Killer Mike (El-P)]
My solitary condition’s preventin’ conjugal visits
Though mainly missin’ my missus, they keepin’ me from my children
Conditions create a villain, the villain is given’ vision
The vision becomes a vow to seek vengeance on all the vicious
Liars and politicians, profiteers of the prisons
The forehead engravers and slavers of men and women
Includin’ members of clergy that rule on you through religion
(He’ll strip your kids to the nude and then tell ’em God will forgive ’em)

[Hook: Zack De La Rocha]

[Verse 5: Zack De La Rocha]
It’s De La on the cut,liftin’ 6 on your snitchin’ crew
I’m miles ahead of you, you can sip my bitches brew
My battle status is burnin’ mansions from Dallas to Malibu
Check my résumé, your residence is residue
Call her a skin job and my honey dip’ll backflip for you
You playin’ God, your eye sockets she gon’ rip in two
We sick of bleedin’ out a trace, spray a victim, you
Done dyin’, Phillip AK Dickin’ you
With clips in the bottom, we dippin’ from Gotham
Yes eclipsed by the shadows, a dark dance to the coffin
I’m a fellow with melanin, suspect of a felony
Ripped like Rakim Allah, feds is checkin’ my melody
Yes aggressively tested we’ll bump stretchers and penalties
Dump cases with face and the cop pleas when we seizin’ a pump
With reason to dump on you global grand dragons
Still pilin’ fast, plus Afghani toe taggin’
Now they trackin’ me and we bustin’ back, see
The only thing that close quicker than our caskets be the factories

[Hook: Zack De La Rocha]


2 thoughts on “Song of the Day #2,395: ‘Close Your Eyes (and Count to Fuck)’ – Run the Jewels

  1. Dana says:

    Lol! I would love to hear the Sinatra version.😜

  2. pegclifton says:

    Sinatra must be turning over in his grave 😦

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.