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Killer Class (feat. E​.​B. Taylor)

from Warmonger by QOHELETH

/

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $1 USD  or more

     

  • Buy the Full Digital Album

  • Warmonger-O's

    Presenting the latest breakfast craze, Warmonger-O's! (Note: does not contain any actual cereal or food.) This special presentation of Warmonger comes in an exclusive cereal box package, featuring new art from Caiden Withey and Jeremy Hunt.

    Each box includes the following:

    - Bomb Shepherd, a custom mini figure joining the rest of the QOHELETH figure crew. Sculpted by Jimmy Craig and casted by Jeff D'Ottavio, the mad geniuses behind Dead Bird Toys
    - Confusing T-shirt in either Black, Gray, or Hot Pink
    - Volume 5 of Toxic Waste Buzzkill. The lyrics of Warmonger presented in full-color zine format
    - Warmonger digital download
    - Contaminator EP digital download
    - Stickers

    Each box of Warmonger-O's also includes Bombs Away!, a board game designed for using your mini figures to play.

    The cassette version of Warmonger is available from Cruel Nature Records here: cruelnaturerecordings.bandcamp.com/album/warmonger

    Includes unlimited streaming of Warmonger via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.     ... more

    Sold Out

  • Cassette + Digital Album

    Released by Cruel Nature Records, this initial run of Warmonger tapes is limited to 50 copies worldwide. We have seven remaining for sale in the U.S.

    Pro-dubbed clear cassette, with pro-printed inlay and pink ink on-body shell print, in a clear library case.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Warmonger via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 5 days
    edition of 50  1 remaining

      $5 USD

     

lyrics

[Verse 1]
The jig is up.
The gag is fin-ished
and it’s sin-is-ter.

I am a witness
This is business
and the cus-to-mer is
throwin’ they dishes
[and] askin’ for
forgiveness.
They--
show they ass
and that’s built-in
to what they can
ask [for].

The killer class
wants HUG from my
Black ass? [No.]
How ‘bout the truth.
It’s the least that
I could do.
And So!
Before today is through,
You’ll be accountable, Boo Boo. [You’re welcome!]

*Whispering*
Now listen close
‘cause this’ll fuck you up,
like lac-tose
to the intolerant, and no
I ain’t gon’ holler it.

[CHORUS]
I wish I could believe
I wish that I could see
the other side of all the lies,
And nothing’s here but sea
a sea between the people
who need to touch and agree.
The fingertips of nobodys
Would open up this sea.

[Verse 2]
Did your pastor make it
about all the times you masturbated? [Mine too!]
So I was too afraid of myself
to see what he’d created:
a mirage that my savior was
living inside my naval. [Ha!]
Cause It's convenient--
Ain’t it--
believing God died
for the sexually frustrated.
Cause aye,
if that death
was abetted and aided
By the very government rich folks
created?
That would mean [Oh dear!]
That there are
many more Christs
still incarcerated.
Still getting stories
fabricated.
Still food for these machines
that just get rehabilitated.
Upgraded and rebooted for nation
set on lynching
its creation,
creating abominations, and then
conflating its sins with greatness. [Yikes!]
But

[CHORUS]
I wish I could believe
I wish that I could see
the other side of all the lies,
And nothing’s here but sea
a sea between the people
who need to touch and agree.
The fingertips of nobodys
Are the power that we seek.

[Verse 3]
I love the company of
Free Black Women,
who in these streets, flexing
And who you’d probably find vexing
But with all sincerity,
precision and
Clarity,
do not give a fuck
and say it with dexterity.

Our shouts, our love, our wild-ness—
there is no one like us,
so since it ain’t no hope
you gotta peep our exodus.

credits

from Warmonger, released September 24, 2021
Lyrics and vocals by E.B. Taylor

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QOHELETH image

QOHELETH Charlotte, North Carolina

Written by accident.

Played by instinct.

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