Stop Meaning What You Mean (But Really Mean It)
I’ve been recording my 3 turntable djing and playing it thru all of my pirated software. I switch up the pitch and drop the beat. I make samples out of my samples. It reminds me of when I was little, and used to cut things out of my mother’s old magazines—not just pictures, but phrases and cover story headlines in their bold font. Tiny bits of glossy paper speckled the kitchen tiles.
Im writing rhymes over the beats the way Daniel Johnston wrote lyrics over the demon voices in his head: thru them, with them, around them and above them.
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