I wrote the song I pull the hook from when I was a teenager, "I can cry, smile, or shout, but I still can't figure it out." I still can't figure it out and it seems like I never will. This is a rap about that, and features some awesome singing performances by my friends Carl Winfield and Christina Giordano.
I moved to Brooklyn in 2011. This is my story of coming to the Bed Stuy neighborhood and starting a new life. In the first verse I talk about newfallen snow (that didn't really exist), in the second verse I talk about one lonely night, and in the third verse I talk about talking to my friends back home.
DJ Ben Grimm made this amazing beat based on a sample of Herbie Hancock's awesome song Watermelon Man in one hour so I challenged myself to write a rap for it in one hour. I channeled my drunken, part-wolf alter ego, stared deep into my disco ball, and created this:
I worked for a company where I needed this funny key made out of numbers to log securely into my computer. It got me thinking about other things that are made out of numbers and then I wrote this existential rap about the Bible, the Koran, my genome, and my keychain.
Contact me on my Facebook page.
How To Get Out LyricsI feel like I could just about break out of this scene and jump up through the ceiling like a lucid dream Then my madness my sadness, and all my stupidity would wash away my badness in a wave of lucidity But this right here is my reality damnit in this broken bone body on this broken blue planet Cause whether you walk in the valley of the shadow of death or climb up the mountain of greed and unrest Where you watch all the drivel as it shrivels before you til there's no frivolous pretty girls to adore you No matter what you do or what you say soon enough like the rest of 'em you're going away And you could cry, smile, or shout But you still can't figure it out And when you're done there's no doubt That you still don't know how to get out I just don't know what I can do with this world, like, live it up, give it up, find a girl? Get my therapy on - see myself, or heal the world oh if I could heal myself Get the jump on the man in the mirror, be free but the man in the mirror gets the jump on me I could talk to god or I could talk to my mom I could kiss the blarney stone or I could kiss the bong Oh, there's no escape even if I stare at the sea I tried straight bourbon and LSD I got a hunch like Munsch cause IÕm living the scream but I still can't cry or remember my dreams And I could cry smile, smile, or shout But I still can't figure it out And when IÕm done thereÕs no doubt That I still donÕt know how to get out SomeÕd try to find it by dropping some science L.H.C. all the particles of matter's alliance Good luck, kid, you think you're gonna fix it? with the higgs boson and a stack of statistics? I'm impressed you debunked the divining rod but as far as you know we're all children of god But on the other hand you could be completely certain that you're tight with the man behind the curtain I tried to talk to him but goddamn heÕs so silent I read the greatest hits though and it seems a little violent I know you're so sure and you'd hate to rescind but as far as you know we're all dust in the wind
Brooklyn Libretto LyricsI walk outside in Bed stuy so I can regroup and a thin layer of snow covers the whole street of Throop covers all the lamplit signs of bodegas and the ground crunches under my feet like raw potatoes even here in Bed Stuy it's peace like Geneva all over the street like a layer of amnesia it's perfect for a man who doesn't want to give a damn I close my eyes I can't even remember who I am it's the perfect benediction for a fresh new start I'd be glad to hear 'em say “at least the kid's got heart” Do you think this place might know how I feel? Yeah Brooklyn's made of brick not stainless steel! Do you think Bed Stuy might know how I feel? Yeah Brooklyn's made of brick not stainless steel! Kids still wear Adidas with loosed up laces Out of school lookin tough with the sun on their faces Faces look tough in the cold sunlight Keep cool on dekalb for the snowball fight Nobody who hurt me is around to fight but there's a hole a league wide in my heart tonight what's that you say, it's easy to forget a little liquor blood thicker lover well not yet she's the first person in my whole life come that my mommy actually tried to protect me from and every little trip to Bed, Bath, or Beyond, damn reminds me I don't even know who I am I pick shit up and look at it, whatever I can grab What kinda paper towel holder does a dude like me have? Do you think this borough might know how I feel? Yeah Brooklyn's made of brick not stainless steel You think Marcus Garvey might know how I feel? Yeah Brooklyn's made of brick not stainless steel Kids still wear Adidas with loosed up laces Out of school lookin tough with the sun on their faces Faces look tough in the cold sunlight Keep cool on dekalb for the snowball fight When life's half over and I start anew I think, what the hell is it that I even do? My friends have houses, dogs, and babies they arranged I live across from V & R gold exchange They say, “I'm so jealous that you moved to New York” as they wave to the stork with their matching knives and forks I'm here in Kingston Throop with the ants and rats I feel like a bad Buddhist when I set the mouse trap For me it's still a mystery and I guess that's a blessing I don't think there's a god but he's sure kept me guessing. Does Bed Stuy even know how I feel? Yeah Brooklyn's made of brick not stainless steel Could a whole borough even know how I feel? Yeah Brooklyn's made of brick not stainless steel Kids still wear Adidas with loosed up laces Out of school lookin tough with the sun on their faces Faces look tough in the cold sunlight Keep cool on Dekalb for the snowball fight (X3)
Whistle & Fiend LyricsWhat would it mean if I whistled and fiended? Like, pursed my lips for a stack of crack, and I mean it: Whistle hard and James Dean it, or clean it, or fuck it all With a secret little girlfriend and a disco ball I'm like a chump with change I feel strange keep looking around shiftily for someone sane and every day my chances fade I'm plainly amazed I could have sold my soul at V & R gold exchange Nobody tell me I'm wrecked from just 5 minutes of sex I didn't even have fun with my little bad doggie gun I'll shun the sun as I stun the hospice care crowd with mean rhymes aloud about respecting your betters ever single one a cruel trendsetter, bedwetter singing yellow ledbetter as the credits roll and the rest of their Wisconsin cheddar life unfolds... ...to untold pleasures on bed's full of feathers don't make me come get you I've seen everything I've seen and I'm still convinced it's all a dream I spent 30 silver pieces on an e-peen™, now I'm fonder I'm glad wolves whistle when they wander little red, might be better dead, than weild her ax like a huntsman cherry pick live bits like a brat or a cunt's one to a cockswain that can't feel pain that bric-à-brac's bones feel like stone before the rain So I'll wander off and get soft like nerf every day is my worst, with a camera thirst so just pan off on the Hearse don't worry I'll be back for thirds (VERSION ONE) So when three drunk kids try to plead the fifth but don't believe that they did grown up they're protien deficient, inefficient wait... that's not how it goes (VERSION TWO) So when three punk kids dismember kadydids but don't remember they did grown up they're self-sufficient, beneficient They smile at the life they lead, they make: glass beads, pot pies with peas. Armies in their sleeves and a whole damn slow motion radio show about their pet peeves, shoveling leaves and bad decisions No one expects the spanish inquisition or trusts or plans their takes around the B15 bus (ok and I just have one more small request. I feel like I shouldn't have to say this but evidently so...) So if you can just permit me to yell a little in the backseat and not feel like you have to hit me I'll stall for time and change your mind the elders only spoke in rhyme, in exchange for your dime I feel fine
I Was Born Today and I'll Die Tomorrow LyricsI had a key that was made out of numbers to call back home with the liars and stumblers looked deep in it, to find some patience looked deep in it, found what I had faith in It's hard for me to sleep without a little regret I can't stand to face the reset there I am thinking maybe I should have kids or how cool a tool even a butter knife is I know I'll be thinking when my guts are tattered did I do even one thing that ever really mattered? I hardly ever lend and I hardly ever borrow I was born today and I die tomorrow (life verse) I had a life that was made out of numbers they catalogued it all and turned all the tumblers So there I am, unlocked, totally plundered To look up on a website, for only two hundred and see what will probably kill my brain download the double helix of my DNA chain Now I know my diseases but what's so bad is I'll still never know who the hell my mom's dad is but if the point is really to have fun in fact then what is the point of a heavy ass rap the plot of this story is a little hard to follow I was born today and I'll die tomorrow (book verse) I had a book that was made out of numbers to see if I could find all the signs and wonders to find all the things you and me discussed in order to find something real I could trust in I wish I could've, but I was saddened: No one can prove that it ever really happened! What did Lot really do to his daughter? Which son did Abraham put on the altar? so many people looking for the master key if there really was a truth, wouldn't everyone agree? you just point it out to me and I'll follow I was born today and I'll die tomorrow
What Does It Take To Impress You Motherfuckers?!It's hard enough, just to just put my shit out there and find a fine place to spew all my hot air I record it YouTube stores it I put it up on Facebook and everybody ignores it Isn't that cute? He thinks he can rap. I hope he gets a job soon and quits with this crap. I understand, y'all have busy lives and hitting the like button takes so much time I know you're discriminating and don't want to be a sucker but what does it take to impress you motherfuckers? It's just me, I'm not a union shop it's just me but I'm ready to pop do I have to stay on top with my flip flops and mop up every single milquetoast hater and drop a never ending series of increasingly sick rhymes, full stop? Do I have to be sleazy like Easy? Have a wheeze like wheezy? all confident like Jay-z? Act like I have A death wish and I'm crazy? Talk like a total success Bootie girls Begging me to touch their breasts When in reality I'm a mess and I can barely get dressed I'm stressed and depressed cause it's so hard to impress I worked so hard and now I'm kinda tuckered what does it take to impress you motherfuckers?