Wednesday, July 14, 2010

The Art of Bullshit Musicians and Kanye Caviar

Okay. First off, I had this idea two days ago after zoning out, watching the Food Networks, "The Best Food I Ate." Since then I've cut down on cigarettes completely and have thought about ebelskivers served with syrup and banana whip cream.(Besides the bizarrely titled hungover breakfast food, electronic cigs are the 21st century's breakthrough. So fuck all that nasty tar-equiped shit)
So with little motivation, thanks to noneother than Mr.Starving Nicotine. I've had the chance to finally put some of my own opinions that, quite frankly, may offend you or cause you to start having that list of side-effects on those Lunesta, funky ass medicine commercials. Incurable reader's digest.
So the title. I know. I know. What is this?

Well for those who don't know or have never heard of me (which is most likely since I'm not whored all the way up to social networkings) I'm a rapper. An emcee. A freesty
le fanatic. I'm not getting anywhere labeling myself. Okay, to put it another way I rhyme with a rhythm that can go anyway I want it go as long as I stay focused and in control. Hence, Mic Controller. Defining it is much better than stating some overused, matter-of-fact nonsense. I just think it's lame to say, "Oh yeah, I'm in a band. I play guitar." It's so fucking vague and broad that it gives the person hearing this "ar-teest" the impression that he/she may be good. But being around fools and ocean droppers, I'd say like 95% of the time they suck. Flat out.

Not that I'm a completely, over-analytical asshole. I j
ust know what's right for the ears. Now that's a huge, huge generalization. I like Joy Division. You may love that coffee-shop trance-tea bag shit. (John Mayer plus a recycled collection of covers done by good artist transformed into club scene, caffeine junkies) It's all good though. I respect you shitty taste in music. (and I'm sure other things I'd love to post)

But let's face it. My generation's musical genius' are Kurt Cobain (a talented, depressing motherfucker with wifey issues) alongside 2pac, Biggie, Michael Jackson. Let me confirm this with all the newborns that, yes, they are dead. Dead musical genius' that had problems probably bigger than the ones I got. Believe that. The thing is with the internet permanently here and the reality auditions of talented 15 min famers. I've got to
ask. Who is up there with these guys? Kanye? hmmm...nope. Not unless he dies. And even then. Would he be recognized as a hip hop king? Maybe up there with ODB ('ol dirty bastard from wu-tang) and that's a maybe. Nas? Believe that. Jay-z? Definitely. Me? You'd be getting portrait tattoos at my funeral on ya arm!
Alright so dead celebs and ranting? check. Now to get to what's going on in today bullshitting, auto-tuned gayfish


So the like I said in the earlier portion of this blah blah blog, I like to rap. I work with people who have their imaginary souls sucked out of them or have no taste in the music I do. So one day one of my good coworkers asks me," What would you do if you had Sunday off?" So I tell him naturally that it's hanging out with my son, watching some tv, and flowing. So he's like, "What?! You flow?!" And my other coworker is next to him like asking the exact same question. Being that I put myself in position to prove it's true and not some "gotta check out my page" type ish, I bust out a short but sweet rhyme. After the applauding golf clap, the echo questioned coworker suggests that I battle of one my other coworkers ( I run a league of extraordinaires). Now this particular guy, the one I end up mini battling, is like this guy:


He ended up beating me.

Not really. He actually threw in the towel after like 6 bars. It was all for fun though. Not any grindtimenow ish.

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