Self​-​Titled

by Badblood

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1.
(free) 03:09
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(free) 02:10
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(free) 05:06
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about

Free online download, donations appretiated.

credits

released November 11, 2011

Recorded at Easy St. Studios with Jules C. Leon.

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about

Badblood Los Angeles, California

misanthropic crust//sludge

General Contact:
ourbadblood@gmail.com

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Track Name: Our Baptism
they came to conquer with eyes sewn shut. they opened their minds to false prophets, they're in your living room, they're on your bedroom walls, not for purpose, just a reason. not for purpose, just a reason to kill, no solution, just abandoned to slaves. oh what I would do for all their heads, slay the mightiest beast just to watch them bleed... and so it came to be we made them part of our family. our baptism, our unholy reunion. not for purpose, just a reason to kill, no solution, just abandoned to slaves.
Track Name: Bloodhound
bloodhound at my doorstep, bloodhounds wanting every dime, bloodhounds with their hands stretched out, bloodhound, my conviction, bloodhounds selling my youth, bloodhounds dripping my blood from their mouths. and that's just what I don't fucking get, how did everything get so fucked? with no one to turn to the bloodhound invites you, whats worth holding onto? the bloodhound becomes you. the hand that feeds, watch how she bleeds, cowering. the bloodhounds grin. born into oblivion. trapped inside my head. scratching the surface.
Track Name: Crutch
i've been thinking that lately i've been thinking too much because when I think, I realize how filthy we are. ignorant scum, walking tall with your chest in the air, can't I belong? can't I be one of them? we are all unwritten blank pages, we are all unholy peasant servants of a fairytale. arrogant prick, with a look of astonishment, so many angry youth, what the fuck are we to do? break the shackles, swallow their lies. there is no escape, they're out for your blood, storm the churches, raid the banks, burn the steeple, kill the bishop. and as the agony strikes the crutches fall from beneath their arms and the television screams of greed and conformity and the radio is okay to go straight into the trash.
Track Name: No Friends, Just Enemies
no friends, just enemies, no love inside of me. no friends, no love, no hope, left for me. left dead for pop-culture. what kind of man have you been? the kind that runs out on his own kin. I give up. these hooves will trample the rats. no friends, just enemies. our hooves meant brotherhood. no friends, just enemies.