D. Abatoir (m.c.,co-producer, and turntabilist) & Eddie Eagles (producer, drummer, turntabilist, guitarist, piano & bass player). Both are actual brothers, next of kins, etc.
D. Abatoir and Eddie Eagles are two brothers bringing change to a stilted and mundane hip hop genre. Hailing from Castle Downs, Canada, these extrodinary artists are up against all odds.
D. Abatoir handles the m.c. duties with uncanny wordplay, clever punchlines and autobiographical material. His lyrical vision is a sight for sore ears. With a destinct voice and inspirational subject matter, Abatoir's lyrics will make an impact reguardless of anyone's apprehensions. He is definately an original poet speaking to our generation.
Accompanied by Eddie's musical backdrops, each track is a marvel onto itself. Eddie is a self taught musician able to play any instrument put before him. The remarkable thing about Eddie is that he doesn't actually listen to music. Having never owned a single tape or record, he draws inspiration only from himself, leaving his style unrecognizable with no formulas.
Being brothers, these two feed off each others energy and could be describe as ying and yangs. Both are polar oppisites to each other whether it be likes, influences and motives, making them a remarkable team.
For more info, track samples, and updates, check: WWW.CDERECORDS.COM
yo you wouldn't know a freestyle if it bit you in the leg kid
step to the podium and get dissed worse than ronald reagan
i murder mc's for dead presidents
then murder the president for illegal residents
cause our nations was built on immigration
so fuck Bush and his world-leader immitation
yo straight up the Iraq war is based on a fallacy
all they buildin' is a legacy of brutality
claiming they bringing freedom to the people
bastard lunatic capitalists acting like savages
wake the fuck up ya'll, we ain't havin' this!
the atrocities of 9/11 come as a close second
cause the real crime of the century
is the failure to mention D
the hot MC
who kills more cats with his rap tricks
than Cheney with his covert tactics
they say the kid raps so nice
if ya heard him once
then ya probly heard him twice
and my advice is this:
pay attention to the ill metaphor
you don't want to sleep on this
like a piss stained mattress
or cold concrete floor
bastards,
the kid's mastered this rap shit
the door's wide open, blasted
no plastic, just rabid flows
avid fans know how it goes
fresh from head to toe, ohh!
this free flow hits mics hard
like a jocks skull gettin' smashed
with a bottle of Mike's Hard
lemonade all on ya face kid
lick it off and get wasted
dun wash ya face in the sink
compose yourself, dry off son
you still owe me a new drink
and forget about that girl you was tappin'
my assault metaphor-rappin'
had her duckin' out the bar
lookin back at you, laughin'
matter fact, the whole club was like
yuk yuk's patrons on amateur night
right after it happened
