1. |
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2. |
Strike
02:08
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If they ain't fucking hearing you.
Make them.
Organize.
Your labour is worth more. Your labour is worth more.
Thank your life.
Strike!
Hide your money under the mattress, because it's safer than at your local corporation.
You got big dreams, take my advice.
You don't have any freedom that isn't covered in blood.
Rise up and Grab your master's by the throat!
Vote.
Strike!
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3. |
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Let me take you daddy’s bones and we’ll tap dance in a little circle baby.
Laugh, and sing, and chase the ghosts of, all the monsters that ever hurt you.
Nothing is impossible, every snowflake in the avalanche is responsible.
I want to die between your legs, because your pussy is the loneliest place on earth.
And if I ever kill a man, it’s to see what the blood looks like, in a glass of milk.
Sometimes, when I look up in the sky, I feel like the clouds are laughing at me, and I don’t know why.
I’m cool with god, but his fan club is out of control.
All I want is a lifestyle that brings our furry little friends together so stand on your husbands chest while I fuck you.
In a parking lot, at the edge of a slope, I’d be lost without the weight of you wrapped around my throat.
The only question is why a stranger just walked into my house, and told me when I’m going to die.
Because dying is no excuse for the dead now baby, I’ve seen more than what has happened to me well maybe.
These invisible chains are for ugly boys said the Russian princess.
Let’s play a game, fall in love or you lose, so you lose, and I win, boy you sure know how to pick em.
The only thing worse than a hypocrite with a hall pass, is how much it hurts so, fuck it all, I pass.
Let me take you daddy’s bones and we’ll tap dance in a little circle baby.
Boots all cake up with cemetery mud, I got my gather’s bones, I never had his love.
Soon as your successful people want hate you for being yourself, why can’t I be an American like everyone else?
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4. |
Heather
01:34
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5. |
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Nothing. every time. Like magic. It’s so disgusting, I’m so disappointed…… I can’t even look at it.
What the hell’s going on down their. Maybe I’m suffocating the little guy with all this pubic hair, and it’s no fair, I don’t care.
All shrivelled up like a dead baby duck, marshmallow soft, Sometimes when I go pee, I se - cretly, think about cutting it off.
It’s a two hour wait, for a two minute ride. My issues are psychological, I feel awful inside.
like I’m trying to nail a piece of jello… to a tree. What good is a big black cock, that won’t co operate with me?
I used to come harder than a mike post production. Now when the world kicks me in the balls, I don’t feel nothing.
I touch myself and I rub myself and I play with my ding a ling. till the skin, on the tip is a little bit raw, cause the pain is at least…. some thing.
My nipples are always hard, and they point straight up in to the sky… But that’s about as erect, as it’s ever going to get with me guy.
On the bright side, if you can call it one I guess, my friendships aren’t complicated by trivial things like
love, or… sex.
I’ve tried everything. and everyone, I don’t know what else to do. At least when you’re eating pussy the assholes right in front of you.
I told the doctor if I was gay. it wouldn’t matter anyway. And she gave me the last red lollipop, and sent me off on my way.
So if you catch me walking down the street, in a bloody shirt, it’s because i cut the gangrene off, all the parts that didn’t work.
I touch myself and I rub myself and I play with my ding dong. But I don’t get stiff, and I don’t get sprung,
No matter how hard or how long.
My nipples could cut through glass, they point straight up in - to the sky… trying to get laid always turns into a feeling sorry for myself parade,
I’m that guy
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6. |
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Your face is smoking, on our parlour. Burning photos, I am stalking tonight. With a drink in my hand.
I’m going get in a time Machine.
And go back to 1993.
You’ll smell of me and you’ll call me sweet.
And I will walk away.
I’m going get in a time Machine.
And go back to 1993.
You’ll smell of me and you’ll call me sweet.
And I will walk away.
I feel like you’re a black hole, sucking life inwardly, and I planted a garden in the centre of you, for a reason.
Synergy.
It takes two, to not know what to do, until there’s nothing left, now, I’m scared I loved you to death. Calm down. boy
Deep breath.
You can’t change what you’ve done, and what it means.
Unless you got a time machine in those jeans.
Or a handful of magic beans, cause you see.
You, you, you, make, me, me, me.
If I had somewhere to go, I’d be their. So don’t wait up.
I’m not wearing underwear to the club tonight.
And I don’t care.
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7. |
Why don't you love me?
02:41
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Well i'm happy now. But you don't want that.
I've been traveling the world, for all the wrong reasons.
I've never been doing better, and this is the best I'll ever be, so what?
Random women recognize me in the streets of Paris
And I call myself a genius, because nobody else does.
Because all the people I grew up with, they never grew up.
They're stuck.
You should be happy I got out of the ghetto, shouldn't you be, happy for me?
Why don't you love me?
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8. |
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The photographer
Because theirs a world you wouldn't see, if I didn't hold it still for you.
Fear is a darkroom, where the negatives develop.
Don't be sacred of your story, tell it.
A picture is the truth, naked.
That means anything, and everything, or nothing. Whatever you make it.
Stabilize so that the bokeh pops, when it feels like the composition of real life is just a little bit off.
Sometimes your shit is just gonna suck, until you learn how to stand in front of more interesting stuff.
The perfect shot will never be yours, unlike a painter your starting with something finished and working backwards.
Professionally, there's a certain methodology to it. Never pull your tool out, until you're ready to use it.
Craftsmanship. Steady on the banana. I'm not afraid to die If I can bring my camera.
The power of the polaroid destroys all facade. The director of photography has a bigger dick than god.
Hard - to the - core, are the colors of my visual score. Feels like I'm screaming louder than ever before.
You see this world. I made it. Cropped and cleaned, and balanced, and graded it.
Follow me, I can make you star. Said the man with the red line on his DSLR.
Addicted to the sound of the flash, and the lines, and the curves, and the cold, hard, cash.
Gomer. Don't you know owning a camera doesn't make you a photographer, it makes you a camera owner.
Word to the wise. Nikon makes the best lenses, Canon makes the best compromise.
But they don't work with each other. So it's more important to click with people, than to click the shutter.
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9. |
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Freestyle in Tours, France ' La petite beaute mec!
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10. |
Rap Life (feat. GelRoc)
03:27
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11. |
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The black guy always dies, the black guy always dies, if you don’t know you better open your eyes and
The black guy always dies.
The black guy always dies, the black guy always dies, if you don’t know you better open your eyes, and realize.
The black guy always dies.
In the movies, in the streets, on the records, over beats, in the paper, in the news, every other doode you meet
Cheap horror movie of the week, killer in a small town, you know who goes out alone, to investigate the strange sound.
Generic, predictable, and trite, every black actor in Hollywood plays the same stereotype,
So hold your stereo right, and keep on rehearsing. Urban youth referring to themselves in the third person.
Shut your mouth for a minute and just listen to me. Audition for the lead, and get cast as victim number three.
final - ly, on the way to the top. Gonna give this community theatre group, everything that you’ve got.
Cheeseburger, milkshake and an extra large fries. I’ve seen this movie before, the black guy dies.
Fried chicken, grape juice, and a word to wise. I’ve seen this movie before, the black guy dies.
Watermelon, collared greens, and a pigs new shoes. You’ve seen this episode before, the black guys lose.
Cheesecake, bean pie, and a hit from the bong, you don’t want to be the new guy captain kirk brought alone
Roscoe’s chicken and waffles, with a 40 on the side, the black cliche
using 90’s ebonics, can’t wait till he dies.
Cheeseburger, milkshake and an extra large fries. I’ve seen this movie before, the black guy dies.
Fried chicken, grape juice, and a word to wise. You’ve seen this movie before, the black guy dies.
Watermelon, collared greens, and a pigs new shoes. You’ve seen this episode before, the black guys lose.
Cheesecake, bean pie, and a hit from the pipe, show me a successful black actor that isn’t basically white
Roscoe’s chicken and waffles, with a 40 on the side, you know it’s a science fiction if the balck guy doesn’t die.
Cheeseburger, milkshake and an extra large fries. I’ve seen this movie before, the black guy dies.
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12. |
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He came from up there, beyond the stars, to save his world, by eradicating ours.
Sent down, to destroy us all, drinking dirty water from a stone in the wall.
Shape shifter, with a handsome laugh, mover of mountains, only walked in a straight path
Father of the plague, rancid and wet, witchdoctor with elephant bones around his neck.
Killer of kings, there is no escape, every step the giant took, the ground shook, the earth quaked
It rained in the east, while the west was burning. The sun turned blue, and the world stop turning.
They begged the preachers, to bribe the priests. But none could overcome, the nature of the beast.
A furious glory, of heavenly love, rained down on the land, and the sand turned to mud
The animals died, the oceans dried, the love inside, on which mankind relied
Was poisoned. By the gatekeepers sword. Vengeance is the wrath of god, for being ignored
The churches imploded, the faithful perished, religions we’re punished, for their affluent arrogance
Havoc exploded, the rage increased, the stink of seven billion holy ghosts at peace.
The few remaining, in immortal shame, tortured by the echoes of their loved one’s slain
One by one, the unmerciful demon, tracked down every single last human being.
And bound them in chains, of barbed wire so sharp, it pierced the flesh, and ripped the soul apart.
At the edge of the world, where the blackness feeds, he hung them from a hook in the sky, and watch them bleed
All except, a single little girl. Innocent to the original sin that brought the end of the world.
For in her eyes, no evil could exist. Just the innocence, and beauty, and bliss, of obliviousness
Bruised and terrified, she fell to her knees, begging the arch angel, clutching his knees
Please don’t kill me, I’m scared to die. He threw her to the ground with a smirk and said ‘why?’
You die to be born, it’s really not that bad, soon you’re going to be just like mom and dad.
Composing herself, she peered over the edge, ’is it going hurt? She asked,…. the manticore smiled, and said yes.
A lot. So hold your breath, and count to ten, and don’t breathe in, until I say when.
She climbed on his back, and closed her eyes, and they jumped into the darkness forever.
Dragonheart
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