Episode LIII : The Mare and The Jackal

donald trump rap

ZOMBIES IT’S ALRIGHT

JT : They got a nuclear pie designed with little flags that shoot out.
So you can salute before you eat.

These words are just a mere distraction
Pure evil from the big machine
And this song is more a private action
From one who wonders what they mean

Live forever - bright and sunny
Crushes ice and filters on it's own
Makes things whiter and it's natural
Makes you strong and strengthens up your bones

Zombies it's all right
Sister is there to shelter you
Zombies it's all right
Father is there to keep you in (line)

For the children - In their interest
A proper bible puts them right on track
Cut some programs - Raise the taxes
For all to prosper we must all give it back

Zombies it's all right
Sister is there to shelter you
Zombies it's all right
Father is there to keep you in line
It's all right... It's all right

Well these words are just a mere distraction
Strip off the wax and study the facts
And this song is more a private action
Against all the greed and fiction that's needed to fool
The fools who believe the rich must know better
Well they couldn't give a flyin' rat’s ass about us at all!

Healthy testing - Smart and wholesome
We can learn to build a safer world
For the future - here's the answer
One more explosion and we'll have a cure

Zombies it's all right
Sister is there to shelter you
Zombies it's all right
Father is there to keep you in (line)
Zombies it's all right
Sister is there to show you the light
Well it's all right
Here comes a stable full of frozen pies...
to eat!
These words were for your own protection
Pure goodness from the big machine
And this song was just a private action
From someone who knows not what he means...
(From Slipcode)

Credits:
JT : Vocals, Keyboard, Guitar, Programming
Anthony Pomes : Lead guitar
Recorded and Mixed at Sonic Underground Studios, Stony Brook, NY 

Zombies It's Alright

Hunchoz (dsrnez)

Beat by S Smack:    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=haB5AdxNZis&list=PL_mW9tZZDb7b72Skj1PxWWi5QBkuzJe-h&index=14

Lyrics:

I wanna turn those pussies to a puddle
But all they seem to do is spuddle
I've never had a real friend in a huddle
I've always hated sports
And I've always liked to cuddle
Used to be a fat kid, yeah bullied like That Kid
Medications kept me bigger than the rat kids
20 years later and people still fashion
Pockets of the same insults they said back then
Nothing original
But now I can break your fingers
Peel each one back and laugh then
Cause the cops still don't do shit to white folks like they did back then
It's all coming back and 
The kid that put my life on tracks could send Shockwaves through 6 packs
Cause muscle isn't anything when your pain tolerance is my napkin
Whatever the cost, just get me away from these crack heads

FUCK! 

When I open my mouth i can hear a gasp
I can barely tolerate the social staff
I wanna pull her hair while I slap her ass
I wanna choke and fuck with a season pass
I wanna anal cream pie like this day is my last
I only know two speeds, foreplay and "Gotta go fast!" (Sonic soundbite) 

Put her in skimpy frills and a tiny bonnet
Make it short and reveal a
Super Saiyan and Sonic
Call Me Super Sonic
Bounce Bayonetta on it
I could go for hours
If that booty got enough on it 

I'd rather get sticky with Nikki
Leavin hikkies on my dickie
Than get flicky with the blicky
Over Itty bitty pretties
Those aren't diamonds
Those are pebbles
But "She" can call me bam bam
A little Sith, mostly Rebel
Line em up for a clam cram 

Keep chirpin little birdie 

And You'll find out what I CAN stand
Most of the time I wanna serve all y'all my back hand
I'd weaponize this mind for free pussy or 1grand,
All This hides behind a quiet mouth y'all never understand
I've been around the states and I'm not impressed 
The gutter disrespect always on two legs
Meat sack white devils that get dressed and Indoctrinated to fame

I seen men hang in front of Me
I seen men jump to be free
I see men die from jealousy
I seen men try to be me
I seen men smile to steal
I seen men lie bout degrees 
Drunks, addicts, meatheads 
Full 360 DUH-GREES 

I was broke and I didn't know how to fight
I went around town pressing buttons on tough guys
I knew the best knowledge is experience
My Pain tolerance stuck on high
Never go to a second location
No woman is born to be a wife
Pussies always bring their big friends
Fuckin idiots don't bring a knife

Big bros use their size
Thicc chick's use their thighs
Smart hos stay inside
Flickin beans 
And I'm not talkin bout refried (reference to stimulating the clitoris on camera for money.)

Little Sith; Mostly Rebel (Beat by S Smack) DRAFT

Saints & Scholars - A commentary on the current state of Ireland. 

Saints & Scholars

Another Neck In the Noose

GoopAlarm R Word Ultra Luxe 10 Trillion (Feat. KirbLaGoop)

Shoot Kids by SECOND OFFENSE (2005)

Dave Warren ASCAP/BMI
Lyrics:
[Verse 1]
He polishes his portrait with our last unpaid hours,
Gilds the cracks of palaces, we sweep up wilted flowers.
A parade of borrowed banners, he waves them like his own,
Every cheer rehearsed and rented, every promise cast in stone.
He speaks in smoke and mirrors, calls it mercy, calls it law,
Can’t hear the hungry heartbeat through the velvet in his hall.
[Pre-Chorus]
“Be patient,” while he pockets every clock we can’t afford—
Turns our prayers to press releases, crowns himself our missing lord.
[Chorus]
Ego maniac, he feeds upon applause,
Counting coins while cupboards echo back.
Ego maniac, he writes across the fog,
Burns the truth to keep his legend intact.
If we break, he stands taller in the cracks—
All hail the hollow king: ego maniac.
[Verse 2]
Cameras catch his kindness in a softer borrowed light,
Baby kisses rented—he returns them to the night.
Signs a ribbon, cuts a lifeline, calls the cutting “good reform,”
We queue for bread and weather while he rebrands every storm.
Builds a wall of billboards till the skyline says his name,
Calls our hunger “bad accounting,” calls our struggle “losing frame.”
[Pre-Chorus]
Sells tomorrow by the acre, buys the headlines by the pound,
Turns our silence into thunder every time we make no sound.
[Chorus]
Ego maniac, he feeds upon applause,
Counting coins while cupboards echo back.
Ego maniac, he writes across the fog,
Burns the truth to keep his legend intact.
If we break, he stands taller in the cracks—
All hail the hollow king: ego maniac.
[Bridge]
Puppet strings on every finger, pulling futures out of frame,
Swallows blame like sugar, spits it back with someone’s name.
Gold dust on his handshake, ash beneath our feet,
He’d auction off the ocean just to own the word “elite.”
Our backs became his ladder, taught to bend on his command—
Even mirrors start to shatter when they’re forced to take a stand.
[Final Chorus]
Ego maniac, he worships at his shrine,
Stacks our seconds in a vault and calls them “mine.”
Ego maniac, paints halos on his spin,
Starves the choir, then demands they sing again.
When we rise, the echo won’t come back—
Long live no longer him—ego maniac.
[Outro]
Turn off the cheering track; let quiet take it back.
We’ll write our names where he wrote “me”—erase the maniac.

Egomaniac

4 CORNERED ROOM

John Tabacco is an American composer, singer songwriter, producer, recording engineer, multi instrumentalist and graphic artist. He has engineered /mixed and mastered music for hundreds of New York recording artists as well as projects released on BMG: The Kemelions, RCA: Faze, Rampage/Rhino: Rhett Forrester, Columbia: Rebbie Jackson, Rykodisc : Bob Marley, Columbia: Chris Jasper, Electra: Sonia Dada and Nickleodeon’s Are You Afraid Of The Dark? He is the CEO of It Iz What It Iz Music Publishing which currently holds over 750 songs in its catalog. He has been an associate producer for IndiMusic TV and hosts a bi-weekly radio program (CLAM RADIO) on college radio WUSB.fm since 1999. He is currently the head of A&R at Modern Voices Digital Distribution.

His musical background consists of extensive study of orchestration with noted 20th century composer John Lessard, harmony with the late electronic music maverick Bulent Arel, and composition with Stony Brook University professor Peter Winkler. He received his BA in Music from Stony Brook University in 1983. 

Like an unfolding musical diary / puzzle, Tabacco’s music and art are constantly being re-worked, juxtaposed and intertwined. His style is a melding of pop - jazz -rock - avant garde / aleatory, classical and comedy.  He has been recording his music non stop since 1979.

Of note: In 1989 the satirical, absurd house song "Go House Yourself" co-written by Tabacco, Pati and DiMauro reached position 39 on Billboard's dance chart. 

In 2014 Tabacco signed a record deal with Texas, indie label, Muffin Records. They released his CD “Unfulfilled Shopping Carts Syndrome” internationally.

Greetings! (ATTENTION: My Art has EXPLICIT CONTENT.)

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GoodSpeed to the thinkers and wanderers and those who challenge the status quo!

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