what the fuck do people think they are doing?
elect me the mother fucking emperor of this shit before your brains get smashed.
more specifically... where is the common sense? the self-awareness? the depression? the honesty? i don't buy these smiles or these chats. same old same old fart bottled up in a jar waiting to knock that ass out when you choose to twist and sniff. of course you don't elect emperors. of course i am a sorry excuse for a chronic masturbating loser. i don't even have the legit qualities that a genuine one of those would have. my chameleon status is on filth blast. just write me off as creepy because my thoughts are never harmlessly drifting. it is never casual and the drugs that "should" be tweaking my physio-chemical self are numerous. but that ain't my aunty's tits. that isn't the score. that is not the way i want to be remembered.
so how can i rage out? i hope my stroke hits like a nuetron bomb. ya'll know about the nuetron bomb? there was big article about it in the times last week. right next to some shit about hugo chavez... and his wacky international persona building. man he is just such a rogue... whatever will the world do about him? buy some new outfits. fat bitches... get out there. although there aren't many men that find you attractive you can always eat more if you go out and fail... just eat and hate yourself until the funk gets so deep that your irrational self catapults you back into a momentary state of insanity/depression-based confidence. then you can go out again and be reminded of how miserable the combination of your genetics and your eating and exercise habits have made you. who the fuck am i kidding? i am pretty sure i have stomach cancer. the medical system is bullshitting me... and the world is dark. darker than scary niggers. you know the kind that make you want to roll up your window? their teeth strike fear into the white man. they might have been our slaves at one point... but their personas and their numbers in seedy urban areas are quite intimidating. racial tensions have not been eased. if any latino man is ever facing a rape charge i would bet that said variable guy is actually guilty 90% of the time. nevermind the verdict... i mean the events that transpired in space-time, the forced intercourse etcetera.
and fuckin rap music. it seems that having an intellectual message in the art form known as rap... is corny... is cliche... is cheese-dick, if you will. rap is basically rhythmic poetry over, what you would hope are, hot beats. fresh beats, meat beats... for this poetry to lack any substantial message... i dont even know what to say to that. is the culture just that retarded? you want to hear black men talk about their dicks and their drug money and their guns. how about the dynamics of the struggle that forced them in to using their guns and their hustle smarts and their dicks on trife hood rat bitches. come on... dissect the situation with some intellect. show that you have talent. jay-z hints that he has intellectual ability but that money is the number one concern... so he squashed intellectual messages... for a more subtle... street smart message, all right hova you have won the streets... but you aren't really saying anything that has staying power. you are just talking about yourself... and the way that you do what you do. reasonable doubt was great... all the albums are great... aside from hard knock life vol.1... but they don't really say anything that will be timeless. they just aren't that great. and the tracks on vol.1 were just marvelously mediocre... with standouts such as sunshine... with "face in her puss" foxy brown... who sounds like shit in live performance... never let her on a stage again... holy fuck it is awful... hey foxy where is that sexy deep rapping voice when you leave the studio? balls in your mouth...
balls in my mouth... i have not shown that i have any talent. i am in no position to criticize.
OH MY GOD. dingus f.'
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment