Yes, that Tony Visconti. What a guy.

Bad B-word

Deep Throat

Trade coming, here he go

Spit game, "What's your name?"

Big Momma, check the frame

Bussy good, Bussy right, Bussy wet, super tight

Bussy got him coming like Diana when I throw it back

Head hunter, meat eater, head [?], skeet drinker

Full coarse meal what I feed him

When that neighbor eat my Hidden Valley, Cookie crumble

Do it right until I mumble

Make this Bussy cream like a twinkie when you're in my tunnel

Stiff peepees, love them, put nothing else above them

Frick a neighbor once and he tell his boys I love him

Baddest b-word in this game

Google me, you know the name

Reese Deveraux usually/used to fricking all you bitches' man

1 ,2 ,3 and to the 4

Big Momma in this b-word but yall already know, uh

Ya can't read my Pokerface but he can darn sure eat my Debbie Cakes, ahhh

He said I'm plastic so he threw me in a Bentley

The genuine I buy just be getting all sticky

My throat skills make a neighbor c*m before he pre

I'mma nasty motherlover, you ain't heard about me?

It's the grade A meat eater, it's the baby sipper, it's the

"Can I get a large order of your skeet drinker?"

The baddest b-word, since the other one is on the leash

Nick named me Velveeta, cause I'm all about my cheese

Call me what you want, but you can't call me broke

And my rhymes way better than your cheesy butt flow

I think these bottoms hating cause their Bussy out of order

I told them bitches get it fix and If it helps here's a quarter

B-U-S-S-Y!

I'mma bad b-word shawty don't ask why!

Na na so sick make your neighbor toes twitch

Shouts out to Foxy, yeah that ho a bad b-word!

B-U-S-S-Y!

I'mma bad b-word shawty don't ask why!

Na na so sick make your neighbor toes twitch

Shouts out to Foxy, yeah that ho a bad b-word!

Love the way my Bussy go badonkadonk-donk

Keep ya eyes on my badonkadonk-donk

You think you can handle this badonkadonk-donk?

Well put your tongue in my badonkadonk-donk, uh, ah!

Yuh, shouts outs to the Ashleys. Uh huh, Big Momma

Two minutes to late night deserves much more love.

Come and hear the funeral marching

Maybe this is your suicide

Maybe this is more pure

Pure than simple

Maybe this is all I have for home

Why have all beautiful people

Brushed you on down?

And brushed you on down?

I saw the shame inside your addiction,

Waitin' to see what was passed on by.

I saw the shame and wondered why

I should live, and die.

Leave a note and tell me,

Leave a note and tell me why.

In May of 2007 the Library of Congress gathered an unprecedented group of musicians together in Washington, D.C., to honor Paul Simon as the first recipient of the Gershwin Prize for Popular Song. Alison Krauss, Stevie Wonder, Lyle Lovett, Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Marc Anthony, Art Garfunkel and a host of others joined Paul onstage in a multicultural tribute to the music of a great American artist and a great American art form. This gala event, called ﾓthe greatest night of popular music ever presented in our nationﾒs capital,ﾔ was beautifully filmed and captured with stunning 5.1 Surround Sound for a truly pure concert experience.

Ningen Isu is a japanese heavy metal band that has released 20+ albums since 1987. Reminds me Rammstein.

Shinji Wajima / Wazzy - Guitars, Vocals, Master

Kenichi Suzuki / Suzuken - Bass, Monk

Nobu Nakajima / Nobu - Drums, Gangster

「Heartless Scat」

If you, Holy Angels, do exist in this universe,

Will you bless me on the cheeks?

With my painful effort never paid off.

I've just been standing in the shadow,

Will the day come someday when I can fly high in the sky?

Will the day come when I can see the sun?

Tell me, Holy Angels.

Shabadabadia

Shabadabadia

Babababa

Shabadabadia

Shabadabadia

Babababa

If you, Divine Goddess, are staying hidden somewhere,

Why don't you smile at me on my forehead?

I've never tasted the nectar of victory.

I’ve never succeeded in love.

Will the day come when I can get intoxicated by the victory?

Will the day come when I can embrace love?

Tell me, Divine Goddess.

Shabadabadia

Shabadabadia

Babababa

Shabadabadia

Shabadabadia

Babababa

Countless stars are twinkling in the sky.

Every one of us is under them,

with a thousand wishes in each heart.

Lululu Lululu…

If you, Lord Buddha, really exist in some place,

Please have mercy on me, too.

Having nothing precious in my possession,

Desolated,

Isolated,

I've been living my life with a series of failures.

Will the day come when I can totally be satisfied?

Will the day come when my dreams come true?

Tell me, Lord Buddha.

Shabadabadia

Shabadabadia

Babababa

Shabadabadia

Shabadabadia

Babababa

Shine a light on my life

Shine a light on my future

Shine a light on every creature

Shine a light on tomorrow for all

NO! I will not share a hotel room with my stinky unwashed plebian hired backup band, we all are TRAINED PRO MUSICIANS who deserve king sized beds and martinis named after our terrible songs. Who do you think we are REX VIPER?? NO! I will drive and fly around the US when it's the most expensive its ever been only to cancel shows over a covid test nobody forced you to take. MUSIC IS A JOB, IT'S A BUSINESS, if you think I'm going to sleep in a van for my passions you are sadly mistaken bud, you are the capitalist swine for not giving me more money, now listen to this nice little doodaa in 14:62 time signature I just stole.

His all-white jazz-fusion quartet/trio spent over thirteen thousand dollars before they had even played their fourth show. I say hey, butthole, if you wanna complain about not having enough money then how about you sleep in the van instead of staying in overpriced hotels when you're on a single-person multi-day road-trip? Better yet, how about you stay put instead of driving from LA to Portland and back for literally no reason at all? And if you're really itching for some extra cash then why don't you sell one of the half-dozen electric basses behind you?

This DIY ethos metastasizes quickly into anti-labor rhetoric and relentlessly questioning the necessity of fair working conditions and compensation. The argument being made effectively is that living expenses are shameful and the idea of paying for labor... is downright offensive.

Now touring is very expensive, it's ecologically dubious, it might not be a good idea to even do and even if you are able bodied it is very physically demanding. But in my experience of sharing music, and sharing in moments with people, I would argue that live music has value, it is work, and those who do it deserve to do it with dignity like anybody who works.

Remember last year when everybody got mad that Amazon drivers had to pee in bottles?

Seems like we should allow bands to also have that basic level of self-respect and dignity too. Just a thought

>You see people think that playing music isn't a job... it's a job.

I'd like to see this ugly mayo spend a few weeks working construction with a bunch of hicks that keep coming in drunk before he complains about how "physically demanding" playing the bass guitar is. I mean seriously, look at this fricking guy, what the heck does he know about physical activity?

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it's music thread, right? i can post any any any anything at all?

In the villa of Ormen, Stands a solitary candle, in the centre of it all: Your eyes

On the day of execution, Only women kneel and smile, At the center of it all: Your eyes

-Book of Blackstar - 9/58

Listen to this until it sinks in.