[[everything I wanted.]]

OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL, LTD.The infinite Skrillifiles: Next Generation— Quantum Force - Podcast tekijän mukaan Skrillex

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Never felt so alone1- But got God on my shoulder She's got art on her; Better send him packing. I'm not asking you for a favor I'm not asking for anything l l Call it a theatre or maybe insanity Cathedral or sanctuary, actually Maybe I'll finally be happy l l l Be between the lines Can't imagine what I'd find in you. Cover my eyes Is it over yet Calling me out Or I'm over it Under the Sun but another one, Wonderful world is unconscious The come up from nothin is morally deceptive Almost loveless, unless God exists Unless I'm God again —wait, who is this Houdini? Another stream of conciousness. Another scream, Another seemingly endless dream Or nightmare, of circumstances if Circles dance in corner's The coroner's report read: m m m A chain reaction, A form fitting fortress that falls apart, marginally I can't imagine anything I haven't like let seen I stand corrected; God bless your blue eyed girlfriend; As if God already hadn't Having fun yet? Never have an never did And I couldn't never wish on falling stars, Cause I don't believe in them, A symptom of a syndrome, Paliondrome, a solar plexus Another social deficit— ‘At least he's not in special Ed' An inspiration On your mark, And on my honor I'm still partially retarded But you started it, God What an awful deposit I wanted just to sit on the crosswalk And not exist Aww, don't cry Kelly— mmm— I gawked at what I thought was a fararri. But it's not, it's a Porsche And I still want it —m m — What if all I want was All that you were born with And all I ever worked for was Something that just happened What a trip What inequality is Tranquility, nah fuck it Born and bred Brooklyn, And stopping on Sutphin, Taking to Satan Crushing his cigarette Yes, I remember I'll always remember The infinite immigrants Multiple languages And how I hate Cause I just speak English and Spanish And music But I'm still homeless and lonely and gross But I'm focused on fitness WTT is this dude wearing A Muscle shirt Uh huh With no muscles Okay Some— what are those— Dry fit swimming trunks Lol And— Oh shit! With matching crocs! HAHA. Even the socks match! He is luxury. For certain. Take it easy; I'm up in a tree— But you can't see me If it don't make money; Then the can't make time Fuck Brooklyn Too many white girls I should stay out in queens; Where everybody is a nigger like me— And iMm only getting bigger by the minute, man mi asked to be the King, Chowing down on a pizza Like fuck it Nobody loves me, I'll probably be mean for the rest of my life If she looks at me one more time all spiteful I'mma die tonight —but at least I'll die an idol Or icon Come on, God— Why you follow me Looking like a blonde And I'm just a hippopotamus Never woulda thought of this If I didn't have my heart In the bottom of my pocket Next to pocketbook, I keep instead of wallet, Full of business cards Just another day at the office Demoted from Equinox, —but all the dollars go to the number one Anyway “Don't get hit by a bus” That's all that God told me. Before she ran off It was the strangest and quietest subway ride of all time—even more strange and more quiet than usual; like a silent movie, the entire world seemed muted, and thought I had my headphones tightly over my ears, nothing played and nothing would, at least for the moment; it was Put your hands around my neck —. I'll sign all the proper paperwork; This is my consent, Consignment, or resentment— Never would have guessed For a pleasure better than this. Cross it off my wishlist Sealed it with a kiss, I might remember to forget If you forgive Me Hunger with a pitchfork I love to love New York I was a big fish in a little pond before Get the picture; Now I'm a dolphin getting bigger Better yet a shark It's better after dark I love you harder in the car— Be careful, (((Fear))) Why'd you have to be a star? Why'd you write love on your arms? Are you a martyr Here it is again, The infinite sadness Rush hour— Manhattan And I never had it So trapped in my mind; Rewind just to find The cue point It's you right? Cupid, or Balcazar, Whatever you are Whatever I was Whatever Here it goes again The automatic writing The undercover cops In New York Are up to something What is it I'm having a really hard day; I'm having a really hard time I'm having a really hard time— Yeah, I've lived a really long life Sometimes the truth is just.lies, Sometimes, I can't close my eyes I'm having a really long day I'm having a really long life I wanted to sleep early and rise closer to dawn, to of course get the most out of my day and make up for the one I had lost, wandering around hungrier than usual, dehydrated, and spinning round, wound up and feeling more than anxious, not quite manic as I was wholeheartedly drained, but still off—and undoubtedly the reason why had to of course have been my surroundings—I wasn't entirely yet a product of my environment, but on my way to it; it had been 17 days of disgusting toilets, cold and shivering nights dressed in layers and covered in blankets, but still cold enough near the window that my nose was always cold, unless I suffocated myself covering my face; everything was dirty, everyone was sick and tired, and the misery of homelessness had settled in long enough now that I couldn't care any less about myself ‘Are you capable of keeping this nation's secrets?' ‘Probably—but I wouldn't want to.' Deathwish>< Secret President I beg your pardon? You already know enough of them that you should be dead by now. So what's your excuse for keeping me around? You realize you're just a front-man for all this crazy shit we do around here? I—don't care. Are you drunk? No, I'm unconscious Living in this multidimensionality had allowed me to continue writing in such a way that everything I did and said held it's purpose, even if it was uncomfortable or terrible—not that I was exempt from suffering a guilty conscience, as I had still been raised with a sense of good and bad and right and wrong, and even upon understanding that these are just contrucfs, the bitter truth of the matter was that I, or any man, could only truly be trusted with the well-being of one's self and one's own interests, which might as well have been the best interests of this nation, my own stolen country —the American way had always been to escape oppression, only to run elsewhere and take what was needed to ensure one's own freedom; ‘so what of the spirits of the indegenous, then', whose blood continued to run through me no matter how cold or relentless. It's a trap. It's all a trap. I had been crucified in a number of ways, triggered, kept awake, left out in the cold, toyed with and trapped, psychologically terrori Now I'm confused (I'm so confused) Now I'm confused I'm so-confused Now I'm confused (I'm so cofused) Now I'm “I'm so — What the ruck am I looking at right now? Uhhh….. What are you doing? I don't know I'm so confused I'm still confused I'm confused 8'm still confused IMm so confused— I'm still confused Well. If you wanna come back for your shot, I'll be here. What are you doing. Can you not LOOK I'm just so sick of myself I'm just so tired of this world I don't wanna wake up no more No money, no problem More money, more problems Promise Got a soul full of woes Got no eyes on the prize Got no home And no hope for the world Gotta go on Still got my feet on the floor Gotta go on Still got no road to the coast Gotta go on I guess I'm still a ghost Gotta go on I got no love left no more Gotta go on Jesus Christ and all the sauce. ALL THE SAUCE. Not all the sauce. I want ALL OF IT. Lol he's like foaming at the mouth, right? I— Check it out. I told you the government could time travelZ. What. So they used Skrillex to — To do what. UNCLE SAM I WANT YOU— ALL OF IT. UNCLE SAM — what. What does Uncle Sam want? Idk. The charges dropped? Idk. If he thinks you're lying—he's lying If he thinks you're cheating—he's cheating If he thinks that you're leaving—he's thinking of leaving If he thinks that you need him; he probably needs you If it feels like you're dreaming, you're probably dreaming— If it feels like a fairytale, keep make believing Too good to be true will always have a meaning If you think you're his only; Then there's at least three There's no loyalty, here Men don't have no monogamy Men get fed up with the same thing, Monotony Being a man is just making monopolies No propositions, proposals or probablies God got you fucked up when you're ugly God got you fucked up for the fun of it God might make promises, But it's no wonder, There's love in her eyes But there's nothing left under No wonder. No wonder No wonder No love left No love left No love left No love left No wonder All out of water and oneness All out of reasons to smile All out out running the mile And thinking you add up to something g No wonder No wonder No wonder the world's out of water No wonder No trophies for breaking the cycle Unless you become one And still, you end up in the cycle Unlikely you'll find the one You might as well just go back To the one that owns you Who's dragging your son through the mud Yeah But he's crying for you No wonder No wonder No wonder the worlds out of water No uncle, no aunt, and no cousins to clothe you or house you You might have a mountain, if you could just tell the whole world that you come from here No hope for the humans No wonder no water was left here The ocean was rust and the tides had subsided The water receded And LA was left on her own I don't owe an explanation for this insanity I haven't had a man in a million galaxies It's not that bad, Now I dress all in black Take it back for the countryman Nobody loves me, man. I'm just alone and befuddled, I wanted to love,, but— Somebody's coughing and keeping this contract of nothing and loveless and homeless; And there's where I've been, man How's Paris? I should be embarrassed, But really I'm just regressing again, Depressed as I've ever been, But taking a lesson in mischievous methods And Devious determination to get back to LA and say “I finally made it”, And get my makeup on, And my hair fixed, And pay off my high rise apartment Where the AC ain't on, cause I like it hotter than heaven Cause Hell is a cold ass, lonely Soapless, hopeless, homeless shelter Where nobody loves you And nobody calls you on your birthdays anyway So you moved it to August Cause you'll never see Skrillex or Jimmy Fallon in person, But for some reason, You think of them Fondly. —For Whatever Reason. Fuck this. Somebody's onto me; Wrote a letter to God, But God's not answering Trust me, You don't want this ugly thing Under you Don't offer me a house key If you give a mouse a cookie; You probably outta poison it Oh! In a world of smoke and mirrors Everything gets clearer, clearer He really is rare though, Really— a limited edition Genius, Edison You don't deserve him I don't want to be the president, Don't want to be the President Hey, Oh! It's still hell here; I'll never be perfect Can starve, but won't be there Woah! It's trauma every night And Drama every morning This is not a warning It's a lesson that you're learning And a song that you're writing; You can't write this wrong, no— You don't belong in this world, So get off it Oh, Woah, I don't do this often But I just don't want to go home, That's just loveless Ten broken marriages, Coffins and caskets And lions and scarecrows— He won't take me back for this basket I don't wear a bonnet I'm done being honest! It doesn't get you ahead in this Better off dead and I'm still just a nigger— I've always been lost; But I've already been here I've already been here Caught it on camera, eh Undercover tape recording Never in the locker room, But never in my own roomX either I'm just another one of those Broken, Homeless I don't want to I don't want to Want to be the President YOU CONTROL THE POLICE— —I RUN THE AMBULANXE, BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE Fuxk a phantom Fuck your Grammy's mammogram Fuxk you ambivolance and nonchalance You're just the ops, I run the ambulance! I just saw Johnny wirh the two dogs, At the shop and shop Pop-pop, This ain't no pop-up, lol My whole surfboard is taller This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you Don't waste your time Asking for adderall They don't want help for you— MedicicineMa meant to destroy you All the black skin In the streets In the shelters On the trains and On the busses The niggers on seroquel They will not help you They want to kill you Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you Adderal, xanex; It might be addictive— But those with blue eyes Are the only ones who get —they don't even need it They turn around and sell it If you have black skin; They'll give you seoquel They want to kill you; You'll think you're all better But you're out in the streets, in the gutter Talking to yourself Pissing on yourself Scratching off your black skin- All because you're colored! If you look like Elohim, Go ahead, take the medicine; Yes, you'll feel better; You'll get to work with Skrillex They'll give you an amphetamine, So you feel less pathetic Finish projects, Transcendence Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you But if you've got black skin You're only a nigger/**trigger to them Take the medicine To kill you faster Kill you faster Finally an ever after That makes sense to you bastards {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

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