the art of the spectacle
price for pain / for the fame /take the hits
the art of the spectacle lives
do it all again for this (shit)
staycation at the hall of meat,
big spin to faceplant onto concrete
then a top rope shooting star press botch leap
then watching all the marks weep
I kick a kid out of his yeezus heelys
choir boy now praying jesus heal me
i ask the crowd do you fucking feel me
i get no response
nobody wanted any more of this but i'm
back and i'm pissed with a bag full of grips
that i got from the thrift on discount just to flip
into avant garde shit for you fuckers to miss
slanging discs
got to make the money cause the rent exists
spend it on all the pretty twinks and chicks
and any other payment that i've ever missed which
is fucking all of them, collect em all like solomon,
banishing debt collectors, i tell them to never call again
paid in turnips blood and rotten goose egg
swollen from a bump to the head i caught the jpeg
uberreach, color in a no d q
handicap if you must, please bring your whole fucking crew
the art's now the artist, kayfabe's a worked shoot
what it comes down to is we're all in it for the views
two rappers one mic
eat that shit for the spotlight
too many rappers, not enough shit
watch them fight over it
Quite possibly the most full-on album I've ever listened to. Intense, and then some. 'Digital Tarpit' could describe both the track and the whole album: high-pitched guitar squeals that make your fillings itch coupled with merciless, suffocating heaviness. The Avenell-esque vocals top it off perfectly.
Brilliant - punishing, but brilliant. jim_fuego