Lyric Riffs

Oct 14, 2014

Can you take it back, back to when we didn’t have it all/Seem to phase it out, still the problem’s solved/Can you take it back, back to when we didn’t have it all/Seem to phase it out, still the problem’s solved

from Why lyrics by Les Sins

Leave it to Toro Y Moi to come up with a new moniker for a sound he’s been beating to death for years. It’s all a sped up or slowed down version of another, and his stab at disco/house is no different. The dull beat paves the way for an even sorrier go at lyrics, which are moot right from the jump.

Oct 14, 2014

When you’ve been fighting for it all your life/You’ve been struggling to make things right/That’s how a superhero learns to fly/Every day, every hour/Turn the pain into power

from Superheroes lyrics by The Script

Genetically modified pop that may feed the masses now, but will leave in an indelible scar on them later. Something in the form of creative cancer that leaves the victim unable to tell the difference between quality pop music and hot garbage. If their boring lyrics don’t drive you mad then the video will.

Oct 14, 2014

Don’t fight phantoms with a crowbar, homey/It’s a ghost, no flesh/Six smokes left and your brain takes fathoming/It’s a clear-cut brilliant – no escape, no bandages

from House of Clashes lyrics by P.H.Fat

Before they hit it semi-big with club bangers securing opening slots at festivals, cunnilingus aficionados PHFAT were the kings of South African horrorcore, thanks to tracks like this featuring addictive beats and nonstop slews of jarring word association. PHFAT > Die Antwoord; [LISTEN].

Oct 14, 2014

Steamy hot meal serve less than five minutes/Big silver pot, boilin’ water, salt in it/House full of brothers and sisters, the pop’s missin’/Pilgrim on the box on the stove in the kitchen

from Grits lyrics by RZA

The Prince gets a bit nostalgic on an album that’s filled mostly with crossover bangers. It’s a standout because of all the simple elements involved – the soulful sample, the dusty break and of course the lyrics, which paint a vivid picture of what it’s like to be a kid. A universal message from the god.

Oct 14, 2014

Sue I got the job/We’ll buy the house /You’ll need to rest/I’ll doubt we’ll make it

from Sue (Or In a Season of Crime) lyrics by David Bowie

A big band-influenced excursion that begins much like it ends – on a steady, piercing drum roll and a whirling dervish of brass. In between is a cacophony of disjointed lyrics and off-key melodies, which work as yet another form of improvisational jazz. A good way to soundtrack the slow decline.

Oct 14, 2014

Unzipped his pants and I can’t tell you what a pig/Me and my sister had different fathers, but I cared, and I loved her/And I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t scared, when he rubbed her/Tip of his penis on her, she was only 11/How could you ever get a boner?

from Bloody Moon lyrics by The Game

Trying so hard to be Nas and not even ashamed about it. It’s a comical act in that he’s taking every bit of his cadence. The most disturbing part in all this is the revelation of some serious abuse. It’s not only strange but it lacks context, a strange way to punctuate a terribly conceived album.

Oct 14, 2014

Put ten karats on my daughter ear, fuck it/She deserved every rock I done sold out in public/Do anythin’ for my Destiny’s Child/She a Beyoncé, never be LeToya Luckett

from Black on Black lyrics by The Game

Enough bass to make you vomit, but that’s not nearly as egregious as the lyrics. It’s that age old fallback that most rappers lean on to justify a seedy past or the inability to string together a dope narrative. Rap cliches abound, as anemic an effort as Game has ever strung together.


Oct 14, 2014

It’s never a question that I am the shooter/I empty the clip and lay you in a pool of/Blood, see how he got hit with the Ruger?/Blood, bandana that’s how we be movin’/Blood, swooping from Compton to Brooklyn/And this ain’t the Barclays but niggas be shootin’

from Hit Em Hard lyrics by The Game

The Game is that old guy at the Y that was good ten years ago, but is a shell of what he was before. So instead of hangin’ it up he gets back on the court and is essentially a walking flagrant foul. He does surround himself with some heads but as a whole it’s a little too dated an effort to make a splash.

Oct 14, 2014

I sink in my teeth cause these niggas is sweet/Predator to the prey, you should pray for the weak/Spray out Caprices, drive by with the reaper/I hang out the window like I’m an AC/Bodies turn cold after losing your pulse/Turn that dude to a ghost like the homie SP

from Food for My Stomach lyrics by The Game

The Game and his cohorts embracing the jungle mentality, the one that seems to best embody the mainstream rap world. But it’s a social jungle and the biggest weapon is hype, which is noticeably absent from this wilting flower of a song. A big hindrance is the beat selection, watery at best.

Oct 14, 2014

You are, you are, you are so special to me/I wanna come home to you, I wanna make love to you/But I gotta get this cheese/Girl, I know you like that

from Take That lyrics by The Game

Another exhibition featuring one of the Game’s proteges. The lo-fi beat has some draw in that it doesn’t overstate its presence, giving his pupil a chance to say his peace, uninterpreted and without any sort of prodding. He’s not coming with original content, but at least he’s not being a jagoff.


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