malice and wonderland

Lyrics

(Verse 1)
Streetlights don't flicker here, they get shot out on sight
Leaving nothing but the cold, dead dark of the night
No fairy tale theater, no stage for a show
Just the raw, bloody truth of the asphalt below
Welcome to Malice in Wonderland, the real-life strain
Where the rabbit hole is just a storm drain overflowing with rain
At the intersection where the crossfires meet
216th and 31st, the gangland street
Where the kings wear rags and the crows pick the meat
Off the bones of the kids who got caught in the sweep.
The pavement is cracked like a junkie’s dry skin
And the air smells like diesel, gunpowder, and sin
There’s a Cheshire grin on the corner block stair
But he ain't smiling at you, he’s sizing up your hair
Got a Glock in his pocket and a ghost in his eyes
Selling slow-cooking poison under pitiless skies.
The block is a pressure cooker ready to pop
And the tea party’s happening right in front of the shop
Where they pour out the liquor for the names on the wall
Another nineteen-year-old who took a lead-heavy fall
In the belly of the beast where the territory’s planned
This is 216 gangland, understand?
​(Chorus)
Oh, Malice in Wonderland, where the white roses bleed
Drenched in the kerosene of cold-blooded greed
216th and 31st, the wicked and the wild
Where the concrete devours every innocent child
Don’t you dare look back, don’t you slow down your track
The Queen of Hearts is riding in a matte-black Mac
Shouting "Off with his head!" from the passenger side
In the kingdom of the gutter where the real monsters hide.
​(Verse 2)
The Mad Hatter sits on a busted-out porch
Stirring chemical soup with a propane torch
His teeth are all rotted and his mind is long gone
He’s been bagging up rock since the day before dawn
He says, "Time is a luxury you can't afford
When you're living by the gun and you're dying by the cord."
The Caterpillar’s perched on a rusted fire escape
With a Glock on his hip and a face mask for drape
Exhaling thick smoke from a toxic green bud
Looking down at the alley where the chalk meets the mud
He don't ask who you are, he just asks what you bought
Because around these parts, you're just a target if you're caught.
The March Hare’s twitching with a blade in his hand
Chopping up lines on a stolen nightstand
216th is the frontline, 31st is the cage
Where the obituaries fill up the very front page.
The Tweedle twins are running through the alleyway maze
Setting fire to a stolen whip, watching it blaze
They look identical, they share the same rap
Born in the trenches of a permanent trap.
​(Chorus)
Oh, Malice in Wonderland, where the white roses bleed
Drenched in the kerosene of cold-blooded greed
216th and 31st, the wicked and the wild
Where the concrete devours every innocent child
Don’t you dare look back, don’t you slow down your track
The Queen of Hearts is riding in a matte-black Mac
Shouting "Off with his head!" from the passenger side
In the kingdom of the gutter where the real monsters hide.
​(Verse 3)
The Duchess lives high in the project tower
Counting up the cash and the cartel power
Bullet holes peppered through her living room screen
She’s the coldest damn queen that this block’s ever seen.
The Dormouse is nodding in a dumpster out back
With a needle in his arm and his veins turning black
You gotta step light if you wanna breathe air
On the jagged edge where nobody gives a care.
The looking glass is shattered on the avenue floor
Reflecting the scars of a block-by-block war
No looking-glass fantasy, no magical trip
Just a cold steel barrel pressed right to your lip.
The smoke billows up to a starless night
Where the ghetto birds circle with the heavy searchlight
They painted the white lines a deep shade of red
A permanent marker for the homies who bled.
The shadow of the gallows is the shadow of the pen
Where they lock a boy up just to break him into men
The dealers are soldiers, the blocks are the forts
And the sentences are handed down outside of the courts.
​(Bridge)
Down on 216th, ain't nobody praying for peace
They just pray for the day that the sirens decrease
And over on 31st, the shadows grow long
Like the final heavy beat of a funeral song.
Ain't no magic potion gonna make you grow small
To hide from the stray that can pierce through the wall
Ain't no golden key for the penitentiary gate
When you're caught in the vice of the syndicate's hate.
It’s a wonderland of malice, a kingdom of rust
Where the bodies hit the floor and the memories turn to dust.
The cards are all stacked and the judge is damn blind
Leaving nothing but a graveyard behind.
​(Verse 4)
The Jabberwocky cruises in a tinted-out van
An enforcer with a drum-mag holding the plan
With jaws that bite and a hunger for a rep
Looking for the first fool to take a wrong step.
The vorpal blade’s a chopper with a laser-sight beam
Ending your life in the middle of a scream
The asphalt is humming with the bass of the ride
As the echoes of the gunfire rattle inside.
The white rabbit’s running but his clock has run out