Vonnegut & Kendrick Lamar (2004 – 2015)

D’atrocitats, cantonades i postures de gossos, de fills de puta, suicidis, esclaus i membres lliures.
De Vonnegut a Kendrick Lamar.

vonnegut and lamar

“El maravilloso escritor Albert Murray, que entre otras cosas es historiador del jazz, me contó que durante la era de la esclavitud de este país, una atrocidad de la que nunca nos recuperaremos del todo, el índice de suicidios entre los propietarios de esclavos era muy superior al de éstos. Al Murray sostiene que ello se debía a que los esclavos tenían una manera de combatir la depresión de la que carecían sus dueños. Ellos podían tocar blues.
Albert también dice otra cosa que me parece muy razonable. Sostiene que el blues no puede expulsar la depresión de una casa, pero sí puede desplazarla hacia las esquinas de cualquier habitación en que se interprete”.

Kurt Vonnegut: Cómo cura la música nuestros males (Y la tenemos a porrillo) Ed. Malpaso

Fuck you, motherfucker, you a ho-ass nigga
I don’t know why you trying to go big, nigga you ain’t shit
Walking around like you God’s gift to Earth, nigga you ain’t shit
You ain’t even buy me no outfit for the fourth
I need that Brazilian, wavy, twenty eight inch, you playin’
I shouldn’t be fuckin’ with you anyway, I need a baller ass, boss ass nigga
You’se a off brand ass nigga, everybody know it, your homies know it, everybody fuckin’ know
Fuck you nigga, don’t call me no more
You won’t know, you gonna lose on a good bitch
My other nigga is on, you off
What the fuck is really going on?

This dick ain’t free
You lookin’ at me like it ain’t a receipt
Like I never made end’s meet, eatin’ your leftovers and raw meat
This dick ain’t free
Livin’ in captivity raised my cap salary
Celery, tellin’ me green is all I need
Evidently all I seen was spam and raw sardines
This dick ain’t free, I mean, baby
You really think we could make a baby named Mercedes without a Mercedes Benz and twenty four inch rims, five percent tint, and air conditioning vents
Hell fuckin’ naw, this dick ain’t free
I need forty acres and a mule
Not a forty ounce and a pitbull
Bullshit, matador, matador, had the door knockin’, let ’em in, who’s that?
Genital’s best friend, this dick ain’t free
Pity the fool that made the pretty in you prosper
Titty juice and pussy lips kept me obnoxious, kept me up watchin’
Pornos and poverty, apology? No
Watch you volunteer it it while people less fortunate, like myself
Every dog has it’s day, now doggy style shall help
This dick ain’t free
Matter fact it need interest, matter fact it’s nine inches
Matter fact see our friendship based on business
Pension, more pension, you’re pinchin’, my consensus
Been relentless, fuck forgiveness, fuck your feelings
Fuck your sources, all distortion, if you fuck it’s more abortion
More divorce courts and portion
My check with less endorsement left me dormant
Dusted, doomed, disgusted, forced with
Fuck you think is bullshit, porcelain pipes pressure, bust ’em twice
Choice is deaf, a state of decapitated the horseman
Oh America, you bad bitch, I the picked cotton that made you rich
Now my dick ain’t free

I’mma get my Uncle Sam to fuck you up
You ain’t no king

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