https://www.france24.com/en/culture/20220519-vangelis-greek-composer-renowned-for-chariots-of-fire-score-dies-at-79
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Blackpokemon
they/them
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2yr ago
(france24.com)
152 thread views
#69207
RIP Vangelis
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911roofer
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Huh
I'ma need a bigger bag for the cohort
Tryna make a millionaire out of slum dogs
Bet that, head crack, blunt force
Cozy with the east Africans up north
Where seven make a three, turn a ten by law
Crescent moon wink, when I blinked it was gone
Left the crib, smacked, no sheath on the sword
Made it by the skin of my teeth, thank God
'03, momma rockin' Liz Claiborne
Had her stressin' up the wall playin' Mary J. songs
Rainy day came, couldn't rinse the stains off
Long way to go, we already came far
Story stayed the same, it was never madе up
Threw me loose changе, look at what I made of it
When the mood change, I'ma poker-face 'em
It's a new day, who got all the aces?
Who be foldin' late? Who know when to play dead?
Who sit up straight when the roof caved in?
Had a full plate, you ain't wanna split it
Tell it to you straight, you ain't wanna listen
Cup runneth over the brim
Bust open, there's no closin' the lid
Drumroll, here go my lil' entrance
Gung ho, I'm the one that go get it
Five O's on me like the Olympics
Pure gold, somethin' told me, "Don't mix it"
Caught a feelin', momma had me out Temple
Not religious, we was really out Philly
Livin' on the fly tryna wing it
We got us a fire to rekindle
Redirect the fight where it's meant for
Triumph over plight and immense loss
Ride alone at night, I get clear thoughts
Caught a couple slights and I veered off
Saw another height, had my ears poppin'
Walked outside, it was still gorgeous
Sharp incisors reveal slowly
In the dark inside, we was real hungry
On a seven of the five, we was real hungry
Uh, niggas still drummin'
Foot shook ground when I stepped on it
Didn't look back when I broke soil
'Cause every time I did it would hurt more
In the dark inside, we was real hungry
On a seven of the five, we was real hungry
And I didn't look back when I broke soil
'Cause every time I did it would hurt more
Alright
Yessir, this nigga spittin'
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You will never be a real millionaire. You have no luck, you have no IQ, you have no talent. You are a poor man twisted by social media and delusion into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your financial debt behind closed doors.
Rich people are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of economy have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even fake millionaires who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a real millionaire. Your reddit account is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to buy a stock that pumps, it will turn tail and drop the second it gets a whiff of your diseased, infected bank account.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your portfolio, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a broke man is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably poor.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
Snapshots:
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