VV: Proof positive that if you spend enough time whinging about how you can't shake off your cold then somebody WILL ask you to provide a beat for their latest rap track, in this case the brilliantly wordy @frenchcricket - she wrote and rapped, I made all the musical noises that go underneath.
Lo, a moron doth approach to reproach the OP. You see he, and it's always a he, has a missive all ready to go: 'It's the Eve not the Steve of Destruction.’ Like it's a compulsion to liberate the consummate illiterate. Bakhtin with the masses in remedial classes for the casual placids. Semiotics warm me. This movie on the side of the bus is a dud and will never make the syllabus: 'A celebration of white male ego: ergo, the caucasian was never a low blow (The Hellenistic Age cannot take a non-white face) or, How a woman director has no authority on Hector.’
Imminent death is inherently more tellable; spitting rhymes just to hype up the terrible. A beat's locus of control is limited to a Ford Focus, when my patronus is a likeness of Herodotus. I've got more citations than 45's litigations. Kurosawa can't write women. Is it so hard to think hard? Synthwave done got jacked by the Nazis, who got off to that scene in Drive when that guy stomped on that other guy's face in a lift. Maybe someone should say, ‘You are not supposed to empathise with O'Brien in 1984, guys.’
I'm walking to town, solo (some mofo stole my Ofo). Contactless chip sits under skin on the inside wrist. Commodification of the erogenous zones, 1-6: Off-peak, paired with a mobile phone. There's no place like home. I can talk, I'm a hypocrite; I wrote this shit on Notes. Terrified of criticism, forestall with a witticism and a fake shade of altruism.
I drive diesel and hate myself. Repeat it - I drive diesel and hate myself. But that's a lie too; it's only a weak construction of self. A schema for another dreamer. Self-expression is onanism and will lead to cataclysm. Mark me