Continuing to look back at the The Mantis Chapter catalogue we bring the track Iceni Kings from 2016 which features regular crew DJ, DJ Tones. This Britcore vibed anthemic marcher from the Cambridge based old skoolers sees TSOne drop bars over the Acas13 production.
Produced by: Acas13
Vocals by: TSOne
When I start the sermon I tear the heart from the vermin And leave parishioners squirming ’cause it’s hurting for certain…
TSOne
The Mantis Chapter
Lyrics
When I start the sermon I tear the heart from the vermin and leave parishioners squirming ’cause it’s hurting for certain. The possessed start blurting, conversing with serpents, T.S.One – known to speak in the third Person. Speaking in tongues, repeating these psalms, defeating the wrong ’cause they’re eating the Young and taking civil liberties with a death kiss…They’ll be walking over the edge of a precipice. The Mantis man some kind of revolutionary with a solution to remove our aggravators something brutally, reputedly, irrefutably, you’ll find they’re debased placed under close scrutiny. Time for mutiny, time for unity, time for a better future for you and me. There’s no immunity from this plague I guess, they try to take your breath like the rage of the Black Death from the bone orchard – The Poet, the tortured soul, not thwarted by slaughtered Goals. Making music for whom the bell tolls, making moves to avoid the potholes, I told you before – remember this, don’t ever forget, the Alchemist in the Mist – I’m not done yet. No remorse, no regrets, stick your head above the parapet and see what you will get
Iceni Kings, Iceni Kings, Iceni Kings, Iceni…Kings
Tongue tied in the web of these tarantulas, you cannot handle this – son of Tantalus. Antlers clash, panic when I slash, I’ll turn you wack trash into volcanic ash. Your rash rhymes die fast like past times, while we’re immortal – ripping your Torso and more so, pour salt on your sores and open pores, standing at the gates of hell holding the open doors so let the rumpus start…Words from my mouth – likened to poison darts. A tale of two parts – the beginning, the end, one devours the other and the cycle never Ends. It extends – and your wounds won’t heal, so try to comprehend what’s imagined and real. You’ll be left bereft tied to a Catherine wheel, when you play chess with death in The Seventh Seal. From the bone orchard – The Poet, the tortured soul, not thwarted by slaughtered Goals. Making music for whom the bell tolls, making moves to avoid the potholes, I told you before – remember this, don’t ever forget, the Alchemist in the Mist – I’m not done yet. No remorse, no regrets, stick your head above the parapet and see what you will get
Iceni Kings, Iceni Kings, Iceni Kings, Iceni…Kings
Stare and stand there, hear the fanfare, we fan the flames of fear felt in your nightmares. This prime, primeval terror, dealt from the mouth of the microphone bearer, I dare you to set foot in this great hall, the Mantis will get medieval and break down the fourth wall. So make some noise for the wolf’s call ’cause we’re leaving each and every fool with a shortfall and further to my previous statement, we’ve got a plan to place you in a wooden encasement. Drop the lid, nail it shut, drag it to the Basement ’cause you’re up against the man from the Mantis and there’s no replacement and in case you want another demonstration of these dark arts, this is called, ‘Saw a Man in Half with a Mic Staff’. Rip, tear, cut and stab ya, abracadabra – you’re another cadaver from the bone orchard – The Poet, the tortured soul, not thwarted by slaughtered goals. Making music for whom the bell tolls, making moves to walk on hot coals, I told you before – remember this, don’t ever forget, the Alchemist in the Mist – I’m not done yet. No remorse, no regrets, stick your head above the parapet and see what you will get
Iceni Kings, Iceni Kings, Iceni Kings, Iceni…Kings