『FR3AKY FRǏDAYS w/-Ū. EP 006. (LIVE)』のカバーアート

FR3AKY FRǏDAYS w/-Ū. EP 006. (LIVE)

FR3AKY FRǏDAYS w/-Ū. EP 006. (LIVE)

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 Did you ever get the feeling that it might be right? Cause I woke up in the shit, And then I paid attention with resentment Had this Patrick for a second amidst the witching hour For a glitch or an instance power, The list, with a mix of here and now Or here and there Whatever you rather, Dan But I guess for now you call me Hamm, Cause I will Jon' you in an hour After all the words have been said Over and over again, you just get cleverer with em Face it, This is considerable damages if by admission I have to press this red button Every time I take a dump Because of these microagressions And blatent intimidations, Racism and hatred, Cause somebody thinks it's okay To attack me when I'm naked And the justification is just that Genetically and empathetically One of us is deficit in the other— Guess which one How does it feel To feel And be real Or be realized So what's the deal With this meal And the plan To dance on the attacks Of your ancestors What's on the middle besides resentment And a clearer picture or each and every or other infinite spectrum? What's the problem with the problem with the kids today? They aren't that smart But they sure look good The problem is, They're all talk, All mouth, and no thoughts {Enter The Multiverse} Is there more? It appears so. Oh… (He takes a long and heavy drink) Its in here too, isn't it? Yes, its—everywhere, sir. All of a sudden, I'm sir to you? I feel as though there may be some impending legal action, and I'm just asserting my loyalty and respect so as to “go down with the ship.” If need be, uh… Well! …sir. You are a good page, aren't you? I hope so. Yeah. [The Festival Project ™} Ugh, I don't have time for this right now. VICKY MANSON is gross. She is a 45-year-old chain smoking trailer trash homebody who tends to menace others behind the “safety” of her computer keyboard, frequenting facebook to rage about email issues like politics and celebrity gossip, still attempting to torment Timmy Turner via trolling him using various social media outlets. She's been called to “Watch” TIMMY, serving out his house arrest sentence while his DAD leaves to attend POKER. {Enter The Multiverse) Copyright The Collective Complex © [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] © 2025 All Rights Reserved -Ū. ____ Omg. This is out of line. Agreed. Call regina. RE-GIIIIIIII-NAAAA!!! She ain't come Call again! [opening the window, yelling out into the project housing courtyard and echoing into all of existence.] REEGINAAAAAAAAAA! [The Festival Project ™] What. Damn. I was just gettin' my weave pressed…and dish soap. I love that new deli. Mm. Hmm. {Enter The Multiverse} We come from the ghetto We lived in each borough We live in every corner We live in these streets We loud in this bitch We proud in this bitch Don't come round this bitch Without a pot to piss in Taking pictures? Bitch, As God as my witness, A snitch is a snitch (but in a limited capacity, I get it, I'll help you win this, Ain't no case dismissed in this settlement This disturbance is egregious, Believe me, I've been causing a scene since 3 AM! Dayum! I might be somewhat prolific, Or even a genius, But right now I just want peace, A Peloton Ride And A peanut butter and Jelly sandwich But weight, i'm out of peanut butter My weight is getting out of hand, Don't know if that's a gangstalker, Or just another obsessive fan, Object, your honor to pardon your direct justification of this heinous hatred I'm helping the gentrification efforts and also Directly affected by them, Because i'm african american (Or half) But what is half to a racist? I take it as nothing less than hatred if each and every time I bathe Satan comes out to play And hey, Isn't it harassment if every time i'm in the bathroom The door slams, and this whore yaps Right outside my door To cause hate and bait me into Further establishing a race war, When all I wanted was a sauna, But i know i can't afford it, And I love New York, But honestly, I'm poor, So i just got bored with it. I probably should have been aborted. To this, a glitch— A wish that I could just Push my forehead into his chest, I digress, though repressed sexually and interested This sickness is just what he senses as sensual —And I'm understanding of that. —Purpose. I still have four muses, Four mouses, No heads A sad nd four robots Four hoses of cards And no forwards Just haloy endings That I can't Exactly plan yet Fuck this planet It appears someone has badly damaged it No recompenses or divorce No compared, No doors, And no cubords No, Just dead bird in a box Covered in plaster And a disasterous ride With no happy ever after exactly Just another adventure in wonderland And wonder if perhaps You ever could even Know who I am...
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