I make music that is equivalent to Mentos doused in Diet Coke. My life before 20 was equivalent to Davis Bloome without the foster homes. I was trying to do life myself, but like Locke, I died when my personal island away from humans dissappeared, and I ended up reborn in God in a metropolis like Lost's Season 4 Finale. I took print in college but can never get the words on paper, therefore majoring in Web Design. I will be upgrading the course in September provided I snag a night shift security job making sure no one steals Roland Emerich's private works from the shelf to find out how 2012 was created. If men think Wikipedia can solve their problems and has all the answers, they'll know it's a mistake when they encounter Jesus Christ. Speaking of which, random stuff doesn't exist if you're in love with the Lord. Randomness is basically God throwing revelation balls for you to catch.
People have called me many things. Some have called me the next John Reuben while others have addresed me as an insane autistic wigger. But I'm not white as my mother is from the Philipines (I'm being honest, dude.) The fine arts department of Glenlawn finds me scum in their eyes because of my belief in how Hollywood and Madison Avenue recycles their music and movies from previous works over and over and over again. But they are blind to the truth. The end of the world or arts happened, and now we're in an eternal recycling system when it comes to plot concepts and special effect templates of movies and music and somehow, we like it! Why? In my case, hip-hop is a collection of soul and funk records over chunky Premier beats and cool scratching off the wheels of steel, and the next day, it's repetitive with Timaland techno pop, known as crunk and snap. But luckily, some underground heads made rap less emo and cookie cutter and pretty much sampled anything before 1980, preserved RZA and WuTang's drums, and socially-concious lyrics and laced it all together. Long live underground rap!
Anyway, back to me: I don't just do rap, I do electronica through my nose, and imitate 303 basslines with my lyrnx. If Rod Sterling were to write a Twilight Zone episode about me, it would take months. I make jokes that have people scratch their heads, but I don't care. I'm a class clown, and my knives and lint in my pockets are the words that come out of my mouth as they can be cutting and stick to your shirts! Bottom line; if creativity is bliss, my music is euphoria.
I make music that is equivalent to Mentos doused in Diet Coke. My life before 20 was equivalent to Davis Bloome without the foster homes. I was trying to do life myself, but like Locke, I died when my personal island away from humans dissappeared, and I ended up reborn in God in a metropolis like Lost's Season 4 Finale. I took print in college but can never get the words on paper, therefore majoring in Web Design. I will be upgrading the course in September provided I snag a night shift security job making sure no one steals Roland Emerich's private works from the shelf to find out how 2012 was created. If men think Wikipedia can solve their problems and has all the answers, they'll know it's a mistake when they encounter Jesus Christ. Speaking of which, random stuff doesn't exist if you're in love with the Lord. Randomness is basically God throwing revelation balls for you to catch.
People have called me many things. Some have called me the next John Reuben while others have addresed me as an insane autistic wigger. But I'm not white as my mother is from the Philipines (I'm being honest, dude.) The fine arts department of Glenlawn finds me scum in their eyes because of my belief in how Hollywood and Madison Avenue recycles their music and movies from previous works over and over and over again. But they are blind to the truth. The end of the world or arts happened, and now we're in an eternal recycling system when it comes to plot concepts and special effect templates of movies and music and somehow, we like it! Why? In my case, hip-hop is a collection of soul and funk records over chunky Premier beats and cool scratching off the wheels of steel, and the next day, it's repetitive with Timaland techno pop, known as crunk and snap. But luckily, some underground heads made rap less emo and cookie cutter and pretty much sampled anything before 1980, preserved RZA and WuTang's drums, and socially-concious lyrics and laced it all together. Long live underground rap!
Anyway, back to me: I don't just do rap, I do electronica through my nose, and imitate 303 basslines with my lyrnx. If Rod Sterling were to write a Twilight Zone episode about me, it would take months. I make jokes that have people scratch their heads, but I don't care. I'm a class clown, and my knives and lint in my pockets are the words that come out of my mouth as they can be cutting and stick to your shirts! Bottom line; if creativity is bliss, my music is euphoria. 
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