Galactic Piracy

from by Angry Sons

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about

And just how exactly did you think the Metroid's came near extinction in the first place?

lyrics

metaphist:
I'm wanted on over a thousand intergalactic hit-lists // the bounty on my head extends well into seven digits // that's multi-millions for the civilian who manages to handcuff these villains // hobble back with nary a limb left // we carry a grim rep, and only rollin' two-deep no less // with no regrets going against your whole fleet // with no protection raw-doggin' it we crashed through a section of the starship // unleash a cyclone of clips in the perfect darkness // we openin' doors with gunshots alone // and we don't give a fuck about restrictions based upon the color tone // power missiles will blister over your screen in an instant // disintegratin' ya henchmen while still creatin' an entrance // so much for stealth, there's no way you could miss this // red and green rocket barrage comin' at you like it was Christmas // or perhaps a more accurate description would be a swarm of solar eclipses // based on the fire behind the projectiles...

psychosis:
infiltratin' labs, take for grabs, raid the place and trade for cash // rasin' gats, beta crap, tons of crates with artifacts // scrapin' shacks, shakin' cats, anything to make a stack // not a place we scared to crash, outer space or in your pad // where's it at, in your bag? where you keep your secret stash // face the facts, cut the crap, don't you see I'm fuckin' strapped? // gimme dat, that's a wrap, imma blast your sorry ass // who's the next cat to get nabbed? your whole town is up for grabs // don't you try to get to evac, don't you know who fast we react? // we trackin', blatsin' people trying to zoom right past the speed trap // Samus, where ya beams at? obsolete, ya weapons be dat // that gat that's in ya hand can't stand a chance man we'll delete that // shut the fuck up...we ain't tryin' to hear it // speak when you agree to be a prisoner, no pleadin' here, bitch // we could give two shits about your thoughts, you're just a nuisance // board onto our ship and work for free, this is a movement

chorus (both):
space pirates, straight tyrants, fingaz on the triggaz // makin' figures sellin' metroids to the highest bidder // we move at light speed till the end of time we // pillage as far as the eye can see, galactic piracy // galactic pirates, we cruise the cosmos like a virus // we like to aim right for the brain, that's right between the eyelids // the feds will never find us, and we ain't even hidin' // we don't stay off the grid, the grid stays off the space pirates

metaphist:
sometimes I wonder if the killin' spree's just a factor in the binge for the currency // we're really not about the violence, I'm just trying to pay my rent // which happens to be zero // resulting in hundred percent profits // I think it's time we got on topic // I won't stop until I got the proverbial over-sized pockets to start with // won't catch us sellin' no Spacely Sprockets like Jetson // if it ain't worth at least a mil, it gets jettisoned right out the cockpit // space pirates are the hardest marksmen // who target the flawless diamonds, no time for the bargain bin // a heartless kid // prolly trade in my next of kin in the form of a carcass just to benefit from the harvest more often // offin' men with the hardware // caught wind of this Metroid shit, got dollar signs in the iris of these space pirates // now we ridin', find us a specimen to bind up // fuck a captive, you're whole planets gettin' captured, line up

psychosis:
welcome all you prisoners, be glad this is a new ship // I know our methods seem in-kind or mad or somewhat ruthless // I'll respect you as my specimen, with some slight improvements // if you disagree the torture rooms will wait for you then // each one has different settings so it's kinda complicated // your anal personality will lose it's constipation // I'll hang you from the ceiling, set the floor to ultra-gravity // your organs and bones get extracted from your anal cavity // then I'll take your flesh back to my lab perform some tests // my projects an enigma, behold what's in the flesh // Phazon flesh-blob abomination of death // with the limitless power from the Metroid you just left // yeah I know it's fuckin' sick, but I'm just testin' out it's limits // beholding such a power made me not know when to finish // don't worry, I won't keep it, I'll make a lot of profit // just wanna know my product more so the price can skyrocket

chorus repeat

metaphist:
turn Pokemon to pocket money when we sell em' all // but first reverse-curb the blood thirst in the lab with pokes and prods // put em' in the pen like hogs with live prey in the trough // look and laugh through my lookin' glass as I check my list off // we deal in big wares, the kind you scared to meddle with // I'm talkin' live shit, the kind small timers never get // alien life forms with six stages of evolution // hand-bred right out the box for planetary execution // whether or not the Chozo know what they were doin' I say screw it // bout to make a bloody fortune off the movement // sell a few thousand at least before they go extinct // fuck protocol, barrels to the throat of anyone who disagrees // and that goes for Kraid, Weavle or Ridley // and I dare that bitch in the metal swimsuit to even try me // cuz when my laser beams start to shoot // I create a bullet-storm that not even Fox McCloud could barrel roll through

psychosis:
eh yo, we get what we need, and roll back to the spaceship // another Metroid for the market, enough to help us stay rich // a small powerhouse so it's hard to contain it // also highest in demand, it needs a lot of surveillance // sometimes cats try to retrieve what was theirs // but our advanced weaponry is too much for them to bare // saber slice the fabric of space at a distance // quantum jump slash separates your body in an instant // bodies look like liquid, surroundings warped and mixed in // the sight of it is incomprehensible and twisted // you're using sticks and stones, your whole arsenal is vintage // our cannons have a consciousness, it knows where you're positioned // kill-shots with every blow, fuck a ratio of a hit/miss // heads pop at any range from my godly aim assistance // my business, from nine to five assault and kill clients // don't forget to pay your dues, yours truley, space pirates

credits

from Minus World, released August 5, 2013

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Angry Sons Orlando, Florida

metaphist and Psychosis Abstrakt air it out.

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