The beat idea for this started with Me when I was playing around with Logic Pro in the computer lab on the 4th Floor of Durgin Hall on South Campus at UMass Lowell at 35 Wilder Street, Lowell, MA 01854, United States. I recorded the lyrics shortly after that in my bedroom in Room 204, 2nd Floor, Sheehy Hall, South Campus, UMass Lowell, 6 Solomont Way, Lowell, MA 01854, United States. I had written part of them over a year before and a little of them this year, and was waiting for the right moment to release them and a beat that would go with them. I included sung background vocals as well.
lyrics
Reuben Walton: Damn, and I caught the stock low and lockin’ open/with a rock broken open/and Keitha from Hoboken didn’t tell you I was fopen to playin’ with my own hood/and it’s the coin-shaped cone with a nickel so good/former winos make them weighted bricks/I’ll have to retract that statement, trick/and then believe, and breathe on the tiger’s back with bated breath/get in the hoodest woods/bet some money on my luck and looks/get all up in their heads with a nose hook/nigga you must be way up tryin’ that Egyptian shit, musta read a book/don’t hate ‘cause you probably did see the movie or should/get the bait in a Supreme Court case then say “Playa I wish you would”/I done seen this lyin’-ass hatin’-ass hoe tryna call me a liar talkin’ ‘bout “Liar! Stop using me 4 sex!”/damn, you ain’t really got that Peas respect/and you can’t even freeze your neck/‘cause you’re always sittin’ there lookin’ really fuckin’ corny, well this mad fuckin’ wack-ass hipster better come correct/well I ain’t lyin’ I see beyond your scene exterior/I’m not lyin’ and I see inside and above your makin’ me feel inferior/when all I really wanted was to chill with ya/tried to be real with ya/when all you got is condescendin’ actin’ like I’m the weirdest bird/(Eww!) with your skinny jeans painted on/and all them bitchy broads always ‘round your mock manthong and always on your arm/and black black hair always showin’ ‘round your mock manthong/you best get it together before I smoke your flat ass/everybody feelin’ you but I see through the fake class/all these people be actin’ like you the real fuckin’ shit and the real one/but I see through the lame and your fuckin’ lame-ass attempts to get some/(Hey guys!) It’s boring and repetitive, until we reach the point where we don’t have to care anymore, but that’s forty years away/and it’s boring weird and gay/get it first y’all a-re you’ll be sippin’ beer morning noon and day/I’m a flirt box so I already knew to get up all up into your heart, light up another spark, damn baby ain’t escapin’ no way/nigga I’m the used rock, I’m the empty bowl o’ elf soup/on the shelf new/if you touch it I’ma belt you/tuck drive health like the wise do to my wealthy crew/who sucked the wise pussy this the end of my crew/in the end in the bed of a truck is it enough to die soon/fuck the irreverent you’re dead from Duff™/I’m just a bonafide skeet skeet baby I know it’s ignorant (baby I know it’s ignorant)/smoke blazed and I thought of you/raisin’ hell in the afternoon, nigga/damn, whistlin’ whispin’, breakin’ into platoons/(that’s how we do)/that’s rigged up bottles of spinal fluid causin’ drimes, (that are lucid) and dreams that are lucid/hello to every each and every one of you kids/I know bedrock ain’t between me and studyin’ music/but medianoche sweet pig ears and baby I know it’s a huge trip nigga please/die and told you how to made the roke on this ones time two or three/I’m not even countin’ at this point/‘cause I’m already mountin’ on the foint/lookin’ like a (—) coint/(gasp) just kidding (slight laugh) shout out to Greg A./Gregan g-Alexandropoulos oh shit may mane I shouldn’ta said your name/but it’s already out can’t rewind the clock back/if I could I woulda had everything the drop pack/in the drat back and the Brat Pack/lookin’ like a mane I shouldn’ta said your name/but it’s already out can’t rewind the clock back/if I could I woulda had everything the drop pack/in the drat back and the Brat Pack/
lookin’ like I got a backpack on full o’ lead/everysfuckinday I be lookin’ like damn oh errbody lookin’ like the kids/uh-like my name was MGMT, but I saw it all, yeen know, right down to the court food in the courtroom/I know bedrake ain’t between me/ay, yeah this guessin’ game two or three can play/if you wanna get, you can them bitches like them bitches’ tits/like your fuckin’ name is Pamela Anderson/and you got the manics in/I’m a fuckin’ manic man/(Oh shit!) just doin’ a little acid man/just kidding I would never do that I would never do that, Mom (please believe) just kidding/this is a song and I’m lookin’ like a bong/just kidding ‘cause I’m lookin’ like a thong/just kidding ‘cause I’m not made of fabric or fuckin’ lookin’ like a f—(pause) metal piece o’ shit/I’m a human, piece o’ shit/I’m a lethal bitch/I’ma look it like a big fat Jesus piece, trick/I’m lookin’ like (laughs) I got them hoes on my dangalang/(laughing) and I got the game on my thangalang/but I got a tall bottle o’ Miller Lite™ y’all see it, yeen know, right down to the courtfood/ay, y’this guessin’ game gettin’ the best o’ me, mane/the designer’s blazed, now everybody blitzed like daymn/I wanna say a huge hello to those in support groups/saw it all, yeen know, right down to the courtfood in the courtroom/(yeah, right down baby) right down to the courtfood, in the, fuckin’ courtroom, nigga/a new woman I saw cullin’ shit right from the material from b’readin’ up on the London siege hoe/Milli Vanilla could give a shit about me yo ‘cause I did it without Gs, bro/and no muthafucka will ever find me out please no/who’s the strongest y’all best believe ‘bout me, hoe/‘fore you get knocked flat on your ass/lookin’ like a fuckin’ piece o’ class/but ya ain’t got class you’re lookin’ like a fuckin’ nerd/damn, errbody lookin’ like a fuckin turd/just kidding ‘cause I fuckin’ word/I’m so blurred, vision is so blurred right now/just kidding I’m lookin’ no curds/I’m lookin’ like I got no turds o’ shit/‘cause I’m done with that shit, I don’t even need to do that/(do that) it’s just like in second grade when Bene Webster told me that muthafuckin’ story/‘bout that fuckin’ Scream 1, how that girl got her butt cut off and the butt clut off and it was so innocent but impossible (impossible)/just like tryna get yo dollars up/‘cause you ain’t gon’ floss it like me/yeen pop it like me/I’ma look real good for ‘bout 55 Gs, nann/(pop it like me, drop it like me, 55 Gs yeah)
credits
from Diamonds and Plastic,
released March 30, 2011
Vocals by Reuben Walton
Vocal production by Reuben Walton
Lyrics by Reuben Walton and Erik Dunn-Gaudet
Programming by Reuben Walton
Produced by Reuben Walton
Recorded by Reuben Walton
Mixed by Reuben Walton
Edited by Reuben Walton
Reuben Walton is a singer/songwriter and music producer based in Falmouth, MA. He is a graduate of Musicians Institute in
Hollywood's Independent Artist program and their Electronic Music Production program, as well as UMass Lowell’s Music Business undergraduate program.
In 2019 he put out a self-titled EP working with producer AVLI Music and is now regularly releasing new music....more
Super dreamy and spacey, just the way I like it. Beautiful music, recommended for fans of Best Coast, Animal Collective, Grizzly Bear, and other bands. Check 'em out! "D'Arrest" is my favorite! Reuben Walton
Composer Henrik Öhberg, aka Tvärvägen, balances 20th century minimalism with a uniquely melodic sensibility on his fifth LP. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 7, 2023
