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Wednesday, February 11, 2004

(11:12 PM) | Anonymous:

Pickled Booty

One fine morning, Tuesday morning to be exact, I decided to make a rap instead of doing my New Testament Theology homework before class. This was approximately 4 AM, when I woke up. It eventually branched into making the rap instead of going to my New Testament Theology class at 11:45, and nearly into making the rap instead of going into work at 1:00.

I spend my days productively.

Never the less, or never-the-less dependent upon how hyphen-alicious you are, I made the rap, and it came out pretty well. The only flaws with the rap are 1: I suck at getting levels right when I mix stuff..so the vocals are too loud to compensate for the fact I can't get them clear enough so you can understand the lyrics. 2: I can't rap. All the same, I think the "300 pound Kermit The Frog" voice has it going on a little bit here.

Therefore, hereby submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society is MC Mirror & Tinsel's THE META RAP (You click there to download it, in case you were too enamored by memories of ARE YOU AFRAiD OF THE DARK? to notice that those words were underlined). I think it goes well with Kotsko's Meta-Question. Now I just need a meta-life. * MAD PROPS TO MARKOS Miller for hosting until such a time as Kotsko can help me figure out why I can't upload to The Weblog's HOME SOURCE *

OH! and here are the lyrics as well, I suggest strongly that you read them as you listen, if you listen, as otherwise you can't understand real well, and I like the lyrics, cause what comes off the top of my head is surprising to even me. What the heck, I got out of class early tonight, so I'll even "link-o-ramafy" the words in case you aren't so pop culture savvy.

THE META RAP
_________________________________-

Let’s start out with an introduction
A few big words to mask my suck-tion
For those who don’t know I’m Mirrors & Tinsel
You might write that down if you’ve got a pencil
MC M&T Is the ferocity of Soda Popinski crossed with a Sea Anemone
Without the amnesty of a cricket named Jiminy

I know that line wasn’t flowin
I can’t help it I don’t know where I’m goin
That’s why this is called a meta-rap
Cause it’s about that which isn’t yet-a-rap
I bust some samples and try to make 'em fit
It’d be a lot easier if I had a drum kit
You may notice that the beats a little off
Remember I’m your host not JD Roth

You remember him from the game show Fun House
He’s Union Station to my Allison Krauss
That really made no sense at all
Blame it on the drugs, I’m on Benzosol
That’s an intestinal antiseptic
Sometimes I get a little cataleptic
Definitions always free at webster.com
Unless it’s a holiday like Kippur De Yom

OH GOD Help Me B-3
(B-3 Organ Solo)

There are reasons why I brought in the organ
The song sounded bald like Billy Corgan
But sometimes I don’t know how to stop
I go and throw in a sped up sample of BeBop

(Sped up sample of TMNT's Bebop)

Why do we need more samples Tinsel?
Well why do buckeyes like Craig Krenzel?
Now that’s one guy I’d like to hit
When in doubt, go back to stuff that don’t fit
(Sample of music that doesn't fit)

I hereby turn over this song to robots
This beat’s about as old as Don Knotts
I’m just upset, not ADHD
All cause Sammo Hung won’t teach me Tai-Chi

This is the part where the song gets boring
My novelty wears off like wet chlorine
But don’t get up, strap on some Depends
For now I present THE BRASS! THE WOODWINDS!

(Brass Bonanza Interlude)

So we’re near the end without a conclusion
Other than the fact that my song’s a contusion
I’ve bruised your soul and maybe your head
But at least you know that your mama got fed

I should be done but I go on like Bob Dole
I decorate your mind like Chris Lowell
It seems I’m dropping names by the gallon
Just like I was kickin it with Byron Allen

I’d end this sooner if I only knew how
It’s a never-ending cycle, like the Tao
I can’t stop without being abrupt
But the end’s about to drop, so keep your hands cupped

I wonder what you have next on your playlist
Who am I kidding, I’m on everyone’s gay-list
All the same, prepare to say "what?"
Cause I pulled this ending right out of my butt.

“There’s no place like it”. – Yeah..no place like my butt.

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(Anonymous has asserted the moral right to be identified as the author of this post.)