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1. |
Creative Differences
05:16
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AllOne:
I watch the sets they play
and soulless music that they generate
I'm sorry it's not something I can venerate,
the generic tepid attempts they make,
I got it, you wanted to entertain,
but there ought to be a better way!
If it isn't "thugs with weaponry,
slinging drugs and excessive pay"
the feminine gender disrespectfully referenced
or sexual preference degraded then its disseminating
the desperate vain aggressive claims they're "special"
and they'll "never fade". sounds rather pathetic eh?
Lets debate: If you're so intense and greatly creative,
then authenticate! I mean what'd you expect we'd say?
Try new topics, lets be honest, would you expect positive
responses from a boss at a job if you jotted
"I have a marvelous resume" in the margins of your resume?
D.o.drent:
hip hop's Pawnographic, everybody fucks with you
but how come I can't see the point of view
in a nutshell, out of the ordinary
in response, gut feeling and facilitative commentary
telling, every emcees integrity...
...falsely accused has mistaken identities
but maybe memories, serve me correctly
you kept it 100, the (turn of the) century...
...was entirely mine...so keep the present moment-
um...eventually, only matters of time...
...and confusion, in unison bow
you can't have much to do...if little know how it is. (and) how it's going to be,
because we don't agree to disagree, the differences are similarities
chorus:
Creative, this is life no more fabrication
Different, honest artists' goals and aspirations
Creative, Crafting truth with bold imaginations
Different, With hopes to heal, a vocal vaccination.
D.o.drent:
rap is a joke, hip hop is dead
when character loses colour...it tears from the red
finger paint towns, streak down main streets
expose; naked truths, for the same shades as concrete
I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired
Seeking motivation but feeling uninspired
It’s an acquired taste/test, digest, swallow your pride,
change your outlook, slow dance on the inside
Perceptions perceived continuously
together/apart within fearful symmetry
we suppress to succeed, but fail to understand
if he’s...worth mentioning...it’s the money in his hand
so if my value is determined by blessed burdens or
the things he carried, than I’d rather be a sin to hold onto than sin set free
YES!!! we promise the world, but there’s no guarantee
Don’t say "I’m the future", when passed down
the ladder, as a tense rung out, less strung out Joe Brown
without tattoos, trademarks or slogans
it’s “Party, OH-WHATEVER”, or shameless self promotion
If you wanna take a chance, you gotta take risks
In streams of consciousness, ignorance is bliss
If you wanna hold your weight, you gotta take turns
We agree to disagree on agreeable terms [x2]
chorus:
Creative, this is life no more fabrication
Different, honest artists' goals and aspirations
Creative, Crafting truth with bold imaginations
Different, With hopes to heal, a vocal vaccination.
AllOne:
I get it, "Woah the lyricism is intense, imposing"
and I'm dense, verbose. This isn't about pretentious poems,
this is my obsessive chosen experimental approach
and an extensive set of goals with attempts to goad
our sentimental mental zones.
I'm convinced without inventive motives to test and mold
the foundation that we set in stone,
we'll never round up the corner stones
and gear up to lay the tracks to play a locomotive role
in the esteemed engine running "Aberrantly"on pressured "Coal".
Yeah its great to ceremoniously set the tone but then you boast?
Lets not rest our notes as a whole!
Lets melodiously address the symposium
with a progressive phono-aesthetic ode!
For me, it's a terribly stressful prescient moment
pondering the plethora of things I'll never get to know.
Honestly, it isn't impressive to be an intellectual,
just get a book, digest the tome's text to stretch your skull!
It's not the facts that test the soul, but the facets of your ethics code
and if you adhere to the quest invoked
when you hear the messages spoken
sharing answers reaped from questions sown.
We're all different obviously
but with creativity used properly
we can mend the globe,
living prosperously mapping life's geography
to assist one another along symbolically...
I mean, that's what defines a "legend" no?
chorus:
Creative, this is life no more fabrication
Different, honest artists' goals and aspirations
Creative, Crafting truth with bold imaginations
Different, With hopes to heal, a vocal vaccination.
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2. |
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WALKING NIGHTMARE
my feet drag, I'm a walking foster home
lonely only grieves me when she leaves alone
away on my own, feels one of a kind
sitting day in and out to see sunshine
at times' line, keep in mind the beats...
...a long way home, and elm's street where tracks meet
dreams of open eyes see otherwise
sheep in wolves clothes, blessed in disguised
piggy back lies, air heads/brain farts
the always open mouth finishes what starts
eyes like tides, frostbit/seasick
within hearts of redemption, short(h)er ends of the stick
time sets in, ghost towns, out of bounds
therefore i am - only an island, when i come around
and then came then, then again
unified themes redux, anthologies of dead ends
summer sets (tonight, alone on the beach)
the sea swallowed me whole, incomplete's a leech
bloodsucker, vampires expect more/give less
except death breath, oral sex gets laid to rest
nonetheless, warm blood rush touch cold feet
she's The Walking Nightmare - demons never sleep
fiction/friction, with-in-ability to listen
lost sound of separation, in-decision-to-division
ahead on collision, split second flashbacks
address attire, impacts understanding in a car crash
asleep at the wheel - transit routes pursue
dress for success, impress whose shoes best suit you
the smile, the face - is a rape scene
point fingers/pull triggers - interact means intervene
seems like a-like-in-differences differ
little things matter, fault and fracture capture bigger pictures
whispers in the dark, arbitrary guidance
cut-throat cardiac arrest...solitary confinement
awkward silence gets Autistic
cold at the heart of it. in and out characteristics
empty streets, frozen creeks...speak words unspoke
"used to solitary confinement and thoughts of cutting your throat"
spilling my guts/spilling the beans
scare don't fear...Walking Nightmare's killing the dream
on the same team, balls crossed over her court
above and beyond...stumbling, fall fell short
of course outercourse, internal affairs
breathe into me, a breath beyond broken disrepair
I don't care where I go when I die, beware
mostly hair and bones now or never cross bear
i witnessed shared bodies, carve up and give away
and extra piece of me at the end of the day
so harmless dead ends in (between) harms way
drown in ankle deep water, keeping wolves at bay
it's safe to say, "they're only chasing safety"
forgot two and half days, maybe memories...vaguely
the used, my-self-title-your-self-absorbed
on your shore, it's dangerous business walking out your front door
it is what it is. read between the bars
never ending stories of parasites and the story so far
is bizzarre, times is hard to explain
how bruised bodies whole heartedly shrink growing pains
home wrecker polished demolished foreclosures
closed eyes still look forward crossing our fingers for closure
translating the name, remains true to form
shitbuckettes grip, rip, pull, grab (bull by) the horns
artist's rendering of me, paint portraits
jump around road side bombs, pull learning curves out from orbit
when we met before felt euphoric
now that it's over, it's best that I blame you for it
excuses/excuses, act irresponsible
NO GOODBYE! you lied by omission: impossible
it's probable and illogical; accessing
blind eye movement desensitization reprocessing
dear death, loves notes wrote and stroke to the accord
of everything, i said afterwards was told once before
The Walking Nightmare, hides from sunrise
running on no sleep, terrified to close her own eyes!!!
AllOne:
Cat -like, in that she'd smother a child that's asleep
wouldn't harm a fly, but stockpiles Vaseline
Stockholm-body stalk home company that she “keeps”
Firecracker, perfect match, complete with gasoline
She puts in the “wool” in “wolf” attacking sheep, that she eats.
Transylvania enchantress entrances transients
dangerous, her idea of happiness?
Magenta lips pressed against fangs that drip
pines to pierce and sip from veins in necks
grizzly grave gristle glutton,
craves crimson pints of plasma prey
obtained through playful painful pleasures
seeping out an angel, blood puddle, reflects nothing
teething on halos, crush cuddle, regrets nothing.
Hollow-cave-war-paint affections,
holy-water-bed-spread defensive
mistakes are high, place your bets,
Wood stakes are closely played to chest
to escape her threatening-looks-are-fatal
Death at first sight.
Looks to drain you,
lust at first bite.
Running towards lights-
at-the-end-of-the-tunnel-of-love-song.
Requiem for a dream-girl.
Lady of the night-mare-ionette
puppet master-mind, manipulator,
noose shaped string-puller
pugnacious seductress,
hardest self destruct-button-to-button-pusher
you're wrapped around her fingers
that are wrapped around your throat clutching,
a choking touch.
If you're hanging on for dear life.
She'll be happy to open up.
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3. |
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Quality Vs. Quarantine
I've heard the first one you bond with
you'll think of the fondest.
I know it to be true, although I know it can't be mutual
considering her hardships, my negligent nonsense in youth
I'm cloaked in guilt from conclusions I drew.
I lowly took her for granted, and I took off as proof
and so rebounded from that first love.
Girl number two was the worst one.
Her condition: head-sick, irksome, pernicious,
desperate, endured much, regret ridden, I'm left with
a bad taste on a burnt tongue, spurned trust, worth crushed
but worked up nerves just to repair that first pure love.
Worked but the baggage too great.
Tried, but heavy hearts can't take flight.
Third misses was a charmer!
Hardly the snake type, wounded via fang fights
I could relate, cried as I aimed to elevate her grave life.
Unable to make the change and spitefully conveyed right then:
Some misread "The hand that feeds" as "hand to eat"
and they bite.
Chorus:
I'm broken. Don't touch me you'll get hurt.
The only way to get love is to let some in.
(Horribly? Broken love is a heart disease.
Caught early on at least, moronically I've martyred me
marooned in quarantine)
I'm broken. Don't touch me I'll get worse.
The only way to get love is to let some in.
(Horribly Broken trust is my heart disease,
like Tony Stark I harbor shards in me
and I'm sardonically marooned in quarantine)
I know I'm no Casanova, but I'd like to cast a nova
to eclipse your captivating castle's sculpture.
Really I'm just asking you over to help me meet
this week's disaster quota.
"Intense" "advanced" or "cultured",
this mentally relaxed persona
is actually a fragile vulnerable bundle of nerves I control
with intent to use empathy to effectively represent life vividly.
So although I project this interesting affection and equanimity
Ironically my inner need to open and
let emotions in
to use my art to expose the gifts of life
and what we suppose it is
to connect and close the bridges,
has broken and discouraged me
from getting close to them!
Chorus:
I'm broken. Don't touch me you'll get hurt.
The only way to get love is to let some in.
(Horribly? Broken love is a heart disease.
Caught early on at least, moronically I've martyred me
marooned in quarantine)
I'm broken. Don't touch me I'll get worse.
The only way to get love is to let some in.
(Horribly Broken trust is my heart disease,
like Tony Stark I harbor shards in me
and I'm sardonically marooned in quarantine)
Once our passion's beguiled, it's only a matter of time 'til
happiness dies and you're trapped in a cycle,
glad to resign, waiting to ravage the title,
waving a flag that is white, though I find despite an easy "break up",
it's still hard to "crack a smile". After a while,
I found in my heart that I can't trust it easily.
But if I can't trust my heart where does that leave me?
Self esteem seems to be disproportionate
with my romantic "plot's" standards I make it a "point"
to "coordinate".
Often offer the universe, and all they ask for is "space".
I'm twenty-four to date, poor and can't afford to date.
Prone to disappointment or afraid to disappoint the lady.
The grass is always greener on the other side of the walls I make
( I guess that's why they call it "jaded"),
As I asphyxiate beneath this armor and mortar laid,
my thought is:
"Maybe suffocating supporting the smothering weight
of a bunker's haven, isn't worth the cost of safety?!"
Chorus:
I'm broken. Don't touch me you'll get hurt.
The only way to get love is to let some in.
(Horribly? Broken love is a heart disease.
Caught early on at least, moronically I've martyred me
marooned in quarantine)
I'm broken. Don't touch me I'll get worse.
The only way to get love is to let some in.
(Horribly Broken trust is my heart disease,
like Tony Stark I harbor shards in me
and I'm sardonically marooned in quarantine)
I wrote this one for all of you,
I found it on the lines of my stigmata palm wounds,
you might relate if you hold a past that feels like it haunts you
(as opposed to hands of the people you talk to.)
Feeling bad since you never give a chance.
"People never give a DAMN. Only ever giving DAMAGE
they feign to take and interest. but that's backwards!
It's an INTEREST in TAKING they're planning!"
Disenchanted with romance, pessimism driven thinking
"every joyride ends in an inevitable crash."
Or a cynic, miserable, skipping taking advantage of life,
sickened by men or women simply taking advantage in life.
Consider this: Inconsiderate malicious people who are on the offense
probably only got that way once somebody crushed them.
Hemingway suggests the only way to know if you can trust someone is to trust them.
The only way to get love is to let some in.
Quarantine can be martyrdom and can seemingly help
but be aware solitude and paranoia are diseases themselves!
The only way to get love is to let some in!
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4. |
D.o.drent - Pawnographic
04:13
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PAWNOGRAPHIC
(verses)
she says, "I'm happy", she thinks I'm dumb
life's a blowjob, save the best last...worse has yet to come/cum
crash tests, anal sex on the spectrum
it's assholes pulling out too fast who wreck them/rectum
I blow through money, I don't blow weed smoke
rappers have deep pockets, no wonder woman deep throat
save the birds and the bees, thank you - please
ironically, asking alexandria - get on your knees
tells me, "it's doubtful, I'll get ahead"
rappers suck dick, like I said, "they talk with their mouths full"
you view true colors under the skin with pigment
so far from distant, outward bounds hold no limit
gimmicks imprint derivatives of gimmicky
their death comes in threes, the Underworld's trilogy
hip hop's Pawnographic, sell outs and buyers
fashion statement replacements, failures by designers
read in between the lines, don't sign contracts
signatures kill literature, DEAD in it's tracks
I'm anal with wordplay I pick
my lyrics are god's given gift, in return - I give two shits
I'm the shit, my lyrics are far from piss poor
big things come in small packages, less is more
fingers in women, cream in lactose
shake hands, point fingers, rule of thumb becomes gross
pussy's what you eat, keep in touch when out of reach
on the wrong side of the feet (defeat) than turn the other cheek
you speak over all those beats and no heart?
stick to the script, break away and the play apart
jump starts/dead ends, spark - points, interests
in the end, you'll pay the price; nothing personal, just business
(chorus)
the Pawnographic industry, erases self image
picture perfect worlds, drawn from lines of scrimmage
the art of what's done, becomes career suicide
broken down walls of fame, hung up on ways to die
try and escape the fate, when the time comes
long live your career, only the good die young
(verses)
actions speak louder than words, no way
around hear what I say, get shut down by airplay
this time around, I'm gonna perfect my sound
living up the hype, attempting to keep it down
if silence is consent, the underground benefits
I'll bomb the industry, give credit back to terawrizt
I'm relentless, what she meant was unforgivable
after thoughts with words, no bull's predictable
mahoney on the beat, keep 'drent heartfelt
I'm unclose and personal, you waste lines below the belt
I've dealt with more hands and lost touch...
...with people who say too little, and think way too much...
...plus those give a fuck, never really gave a damn,
I'm not married to the game, I just wanna be the best-man!!!
hip hop's Pawnographic, leave it to beaver
rapper's stretch the truth, no wonder I'm a firm believer
transmission don't transmit transactions...
CAUTION: NO SPIN ZONES, begin with dis(c)-satisfaction
ending positively with notes on me
public displays of affection, rejection spoken softly
all individual's, make inevitable efforts
I'd rather buy in concepts, than sell out records
I'll never close deals, no what what's pushed
I've heard "a bird in the hand, is worth two in the bush"
looks can be deceiving, so stop and listen
I was born with disability, preexisting conditions
you don't fit the description of a real artist
selling tickets for riches, no way to work the hardest
everything said before, gets thought after
think about it, those who mind...never matter
(chorus)
the Pawnographic industry, erases self image
picture perfect worlds, drawn from lines of scrimmage
the art of what's done, becomes career suicide
broken down walls of fame, hung up on ways to die
try and escape the fate, when the time comes
long live your career, only the good die young
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5. |
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Work In Progress
We're all a work in progress,
are you progressing work?
We're all a worth to process,
how do you process your worth?
I went from H.I. to Playwrite
unsavory crass piercings
to favoring rap lyrics.
From raw stunts to AllOne,
Depraved with my lashed skin
and burnt flaming hands in cinema
to cadence and fast rhythms,
the aims of my past switching
from Johnny Knoxville (breaking my back living)
to Tennessee Williams.
A beast with language of vast tinting.
Menagerie glass prisms.
slave to the craft written
note the factor: no matter
the PLACE of my ambition,
my brain isn't stagnant
in a STATE of it's transition.
creative and grand visions
hurricane and wingspan kissing
it's The Butterfly Effect.
I was crazed in the beginning but then I tried to vent it,
Dependent on making up planned fiction
with a wonder I invent
now I'm clear-headed with ambiguous sad images
as how Shutter Island ended,
and whenever I'm progressive, I accept it it's expected.
We're all a work in progress,
are you progressing work?
We're all a worth to process,
how do you process your worth?
Ideally I wish I'd whisper sweet nothings in your ears,
but really I'll just speak so much you'll wish I wasn't there.
My heart isn't encased in any sort of picture frame
it ripped the cage and slipped away, much like the Grinch's eh?
It's got a resting ridiculous rate of a thousand words a minute pace
and my words tend to escape me unexpectedly intense and insanely!
My birthday cards get lengthy and mushy quickly
crammed cramped confessionals encouraging fulfilling living.
They say more than most parents to their kids by fifty.
It's to make up for not seeing you enough because I'm busy
and simply to amend that I'm too broke for gift giving.
Silly and interesting, I scrawl em on the way home from the gift shop,
my Kodak moment is the cutting-room-floor of Hitchcock,
Most of my favorite clothing is thrift bought and more often than not
I get depressed instead of pissed off!
I'm just not the guy whose going to yell at you if we're fighting,
it's actually unexciting: I'll talk rationally and nicely
'til you ask me to leave brightening, since I'm not dramatically enticing
"Where's the passion where's the lightening?"
Honestly,
I find conflict frightening,
and I'd rather tell you that I was wrong and that I hate myself in writing,
than turn beat red and pretend that I know the right thing.
And whenever I'm rejected, I accept it, it's expected.
We're all a work in progress,
are you progressing work?
We're all a worth to process,
how do you process your worth?
Chrono-miser (afraid to waste time) as I spend,
it's directly affecting my self-worth and value,
taxing my connections to fulfill personal objectives.
Unable to find a balance and so I'm left in a deficit.
Depressing. We've got all this baggage, but we ain't going anywhere,
Take my leave of absence, cant move on I see you everywhere.
So I take the pen(pin) out, feeling explosive (like a grenadier).
The last several years, regrets and fears exes spear through the middle
(like an asterisk) had you on my arm, as that tattoo is.
You had to skip, now you're only on my mind, show me there's a sign.
Totally despite supporters in my corner, I've been lonely in my life.
There's a pulling in my throat, every breath I take.
Heart is overworked, shackled by a heavy weight.
Pressure behind my eyes like when a levy breaks.
Wishing there's a penny placed there almost every day,
My lips twitch, itching to frown, at any given minute now,
I'll be six in the ground. Roots writhing around.
We went from two peas within a pod to ruined beans that sit and rot.
I choose to scream at mythic monstrous dubiously existent gods.
Ship or water. Lip or dock. You never know the role you're cast...
on which side of that fishing rod! Here's a hint for ya'll
maybe there's a different option, feel like I sink and bob,
bonded to lines that'll trick those caught.
Even in difficult thoughts,
my ending hope is to live out long
and give you citizens upon this coast and spinning rock
some hope to grip upon.
Keep em hooked. Stringing along. Singing songs
and whenever we're connected I accept it, it's expected.
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6. |
Cause & Effect
07:43
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CAUSE & EFFECT
D.o.drent:
allone & the room, that makes two of us
grab the (bull by the) horns embrace the human touch
complex to break, upfront it’s simple
back to back, face:face split right down the middle
I’d give one more night in return for today
get your life together, apart from what they say
of want and misery: the nothing that kills
gives me somewhere to stand for my lack of skill
poor dialogues and rich contexts
pull out ALL stop signs of work in progress
every hour wounds…lost ones hurt
cost of living, unfortunately pays dirt
talk is cheap no expenses spared
someone’s pocket-watches over people under the stairs
turns out, scene and words, play like spin lights
you don’t see us, without me, it’s onlyone insight
with-in lights…dark horse - achilles
two headed boys, a tale of two cities
one part monster, two parts mythical
lost sounds of separation, all individuals
living together, the both of us are dying
on the cusp of giving up, we’re still trying
changing clothes, we have more sense than…style
not within arms length, they stretch for miles
within striking distance, without a doubt
when I get down in the dumps, throwing up and about
swallowing pride inside bellies of beasts
reader’s digest, writer’s process…to say the least
(chorus)
the Rudimentary awakening, of sleeping seasons
if silence is consent, we're voices of reason
left within, right without regret,
given to dreams, one by one, cause & effect
AllOne:
I'll Marvel crafting stories with my heroes like Stan Lee
I'm amply crafty, sharing 'til the amps peak,
I'm a symbol for uniting (as an ampersand)
see wind blasting 'neath your fanned wingspan
weak fam' invited 'neath mine, chill freak fans
"be cool" it's a damn breeze! Blew off school
(although i wasn't a fan) understand me parents please,
I justify canceling the path perceived as guaranteed asking
"why jeopardize the birth of Plan A by focusing on Plan B?"
More cynical than syndicate
there are some things we can't be!
More omnibus than syllabus
there are some things they can't teach!
Spice things up writing much
no brain-food portion "bland feast"
feisty tongue Midas touch
good taste, of course I'm Gordon Ramsey
Or am I more like Gatsby?
Romance-seeking L.I.er at parties gazing sadly
Outsider like Pony Boy or Boo Radley
I'll write a (Mitch) Albu/om with Mauries' veracity,
Outliers, Malcom Gladwell, We'll gladly
"Keep it 10,000" in the lab reaping a varied outcome,
more hats than a haberdashery!
Am I Nelson DeMille, thrilling L.I. author of text titles
around these Cruella DeVilles, whose "dogs" are "all for" textiles?
Fetch Fido! tense smile, Tesla spiral cursive
Electric kite flown, blessed shine glow, inventing light-bulb purpose
obsessed, my scrolls, shed-light goal, twilight-time-zone wordsmith
study dead idol's I/eyedeas, get tired, check vitals then I'm emerging,
entitled and liable to imbibe my dreamt ideals inside my REM cycle's circling
D
rough draft (an explanation) of critical thought
wars and rumors of wars, overtime what we fought
to achieve a leave of absence under a bridge
compress an artist’s impression with compact discs
A
Collaborative Contact is Fostered, encounters of the 4th kind,
Comrade established, One toward third eye forthright
Inciting assertive insight inserted in apologues
fireplace inspired flames ignite an emblazoned catalog
D
nightmares and dreamscapes, welcome to forever
aside from; besides, we’ll make it together
Seaside, casual…corporate and combative
Decides the best mistake is to bury the hatchet
A
BP-midnight oil spiller work ethic
EnGulfed lubri-catering to motormouth search engines
Grease-firing-on-all-cylinders present
Thought train: I think (I can) therefore I am: able to still ensure successes
D
driven to succeed, we multiply
over-saturated, displaced - damp reeds in a river, dry
dehydrated, yet crisp & refreshing…
it’s not possessing what you want, it’s wanting what you’re possessing…
A
Your world, All- “Camera Eyes” on you (Truman Show lessons),
“Comfortably Numb”, ignorant bliss asks The Euphio Question,
Oliver Sacks Awakening all of you back to new and bold ventures
Key-note-locks-pick-catch phrases, R(oo)uminations you a(L)lone enter
D
without knocking and notifying…
over-marketing, identifying causes that’s underlying
and clarifying why communication is key
there’s no mewithoutYou, there’s no meaning without me
A
The world a stage, one act play, we won’t bow after
curtains closing we child actors earn Tonys “wow factor- in-“
Spread smiles past your sadness, Pagliacci performed that best
your role in Wonderland? the Looking Glass a Rorschach test!
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AllOne
Left-field rapper, slam poet, singer/songwriter, and author Bruce Pandolfo from Long Island.
Creating to connect. Obsessively exploring and creating art as healing and growing.
AllOne recommends:
Run For Your Lives!
by Flight Distance
Low-fi yet excellent instrumentals with inventive rhyme patterns, fantastic wordplay, smart subject matter and genuine passion!
go to album
More Than Skies
by More Than Skies
Deeply vivid/introspective lyrics populate this ambitious folk rock project. The arrangements span from mellow/minimal to rocking and grandiose. Consistently emotive, unique and sincere. Brilliance.
go to album
Join Us
by The Vigilance Committee
Progressive yet punk, aggro yet emotional. One of my favorite bands from Long Island and doing everything they can to live up to their name, raising money for causes and making badass music,
go to albumIf you like Creative Differences (A Split), you may also like:
Eyedea: The Many Faces of Mikey
by Micheal Larsen
supported by 4 fans who also own “Creative Differences (A Split)”
I have been listening to variations of this album a long time. I remember I was living in a cardboard dumpster when some young guy was like yo dude it's gonna rain come crash on my couch. He played The Many Faces of Oliver Hart for me. I fell in love, I set my favorite track as Rain because we looped it when the rain came. That was one of the early acts of kindness I received in the nearly 20 years I've been homeless.
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Phantom Limbs
by Sadistik & Kno
supported by 4 fans who also own “Creative Differences (A Split)”
Some of the best hip hop of the last decade.
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The hip-hop duo marry poetic bars and enthusiastic production on their latest project.
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