• "You've been on my mind
    I grow fonder every day
    Lose myself in time
    Just thinking of your face
    GOD only knows why it's taken me
    So long to let my doubts go
    You're the only one that I want" 🌾
  • In any democracy, politicians will at times face severe challenges. Economic crisis, rising public discontent, and the electoral decline of mainstream political parties can test the judgment of even the most experienced insiders. If a charismatic outsider emerges on the scene, gaining popularity as he challenges the old order, it is tempting for establishment politicians who feel their control is unraveling to try to co-opt him. If an insider breaks ranks to embrace the insurgent before his rivals do, he can use the outsider’s energy and base to outmaneuver his peers. And then, establishment politicians hope, the insurgent can be redirected to support their own program.This sort of devil’s bargain often mutates to the benefit of the insurgent, as alliances provide outsiders with enough respectability to become legitimate contenders for power.
  • Look, I was gonna go easy on you and not to hurt your feelings
    But I'm only going to get this one chance
    Something's wrong, I can feel it (Six minutes, Slim Shady, you're on)
    Just a feeling I've got, like something's about to happen, but I don't know what
    If that means, what I think it means, we're in trouble, big trouble,
    And if he is as bananas as you say, I'm not taking any chances
    You were just what the doctor ordered
    I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God
    All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
    Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?
    They said I rap like a robot, so call me Rapbot
    But for me to rap like a computer must be in my genes
    I got a laptop in my back pocket
    My pen'll go off when I half-cock it
    Got a fat knot from that rap profit
    Made a living and a killing off it
    Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office
    With Monica Lewinsky feeling on his nut-sack
    I'm an MC still as honest
    But as rude and indecent as all hell syllables, killaholic (Kill 'em all with)
    This slickety, gibbedy, hibbedy hip hop
    You don't really wanna get into a pissing match with this rappidy brat
    Packing a Mac in the back of the Ac, backpack rap crap, yep, yackidy-yac
    And at the exact same time I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts while I'm practicing
    That I'll still be able to break a motherfuckin' table
    Over the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half
    Only realized it was ironic I was signed to Aftermath after the fact
    How could I not blow? All I do is drop F-bombs, feel my wrath of attack
    Rappers are having a rough time period, here's a Maxipad
    It's actually disastrously bad
    For the wack while I'm masterfully constructing this masterpiece as
    I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God
    All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
    Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?
    Let me show you maintaining this shit ain't that hard, that hard
    Everybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like I have got
    Well, to be truthful the blueprint's simply rage and youthful exuberance
    Everybody loves to root for a nuisance
    Hit the earth like an asteroid, did nothing but shoot for the moon since
    MC's get taken to school with this music
    'Cause I use it as a vehicle to bus the rhyme
    Now I lead a new school full of students
    Me? I'm a product of Rakim, Lakim Shabazz, 2Pac N-
    -W.A, Cube, hey, Doc, Ren, Yella, Eazy, thank you, they got Slim
    Inspired enough to one day grow up, blow up and be in a position
    To meet Run DMC and induct them into the motherfuckin' Rock n'
    Roll Hall of Fame
    Even though I walk in the church and burst in a ball of flames
    Only Hall of Fame I be inducted in is the alcohol of fame
    On the wall of shame
    You fags think it's all a game 'til I walk a flock of flames
    Off of planking, tell me what in the fuck are you thinking?
    Little gay looking boy
    So gay I can barely say it with a straight face looking boy
    You witnessing a mass occur
    Like you watching a church gathering take place looking boy
    Oy vey, that boy's gay, that's all they say looking boy
    You get a thumbs up, pat on the back
    And a "way to go" from your label everyday looking boy
    Hey, looking boy, what you say looking boy?
    I got a "hell yeah" from Dre looking boy
    I'mma work for everything I have
    Never ask nobody for shit, get outta my face looking boy
    Basically boy you're never gonna be capable
    To keep up with the same pace looking boy
    'Cause I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God
    All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
    The way I'm racing around the track, call me Nascar, Nascar
    Dale Earnhardt of the trailer park, the White Trash God
    Kneel before General Zod this planet's Krypton, no Asgard, Asgard
    So you be Thor and I'll be Odin, you rodent, I'm omnipotent
    Let off then I'm reloading immediately with these bombs I'm totin'
    And I should not be woken
    I'm the walking dead, but I'm just a talking head, a zombie floating
    But I got your mom deep throating
    I'm out my Ramen noodle, we have nothing in common, poodle
    I'm a doberman, pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupil
    It's me, my honesty's brutal
    But it's honestly futile if I don't utilize what I do though
    For good at least once in a while
    So I wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle
    Enough rhymes to maybe to try and help get some people through tough times
    But I gotta keep a few punchlines just in case 'cause even you unsigned
    Rappers are hungry looking at me like it's lunchtime
    I know there was a time where once I
    Was king of the underground, but I still rap like I'm on my Pharoahe Monch grind
    So I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combine
    Appeal with the skin color of mine
    You get too big and here they come trying to
    Censor you like that one line I said on "I'm Back" from the Mathers LP
    One when I tried to say "I'll take seven kids from Columbine
    Put 'em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a nine"
    See if I get away with it now that I ain't as big as I was, but I'm
    Morphin' into an immortal coming through the portal
    You're stuck in a time warp from 2004 though
    And I don't know what the fuck that you rhyme for
    You're pointless as Rapunzel with fucking cornrows
    You write normal, fuck being normal
    And I just bought a new Raygun from the future
    Just to come and shoot ya like when Fabolous made Ray J mad
    'Cause Fab said he looked like a fag at Maywhether's pad
    Singin' to a man while they played piano
    Man, oh man, that was a 24/7 special on the cable channel
    So Ray J went straight to the radio station the very next day
    "Hey, Fab, I'mma kill you"
    Lyrics coming at you at supersonic speed, (JJ Fad)
    Uh, sama lamaa duma lamaa you assuming I'm a human
    What I gotta do to get it through to you I'm superhuman
    Innovative and I'm made of rubber
    So that anything you say is ricocheting off of me and it'll glue to you
    I'm devastating, more than ever demonstrating
    How to give a motherfuckin' audience a feeling like it's levitating
    Never fading, and I know that the haters are forever waiting
    For the day that they can say I fell off, they'd be celebrating
    'Cause I know the way to get 'em motivated
    I make elevating music, you make elevator music
    Oh, he's too mainstream
    Well, that's what they do when they get jealous, they confuse it
    It's not hip hop, it's pop, 'cause I found a hella way to fuse it
    With rock, shock rap with Doc
    Throw on Lose Yourself and make 'em lose it
    I don't know how to make songs like that
    I don't know what words to use
    Let me know when it occurs to you
    While I'm ripping any one of these verses diverse as you
    It's curtains, I'm inadvertently hurtin' you
    How many verses I gotta murder to
    Prove that if you were half as nice, your songs you can sacrifice virgins too uh!
    School flunkie, pill junky
    But look at the accolades the skills brung me
    Full of myself, but still hungry
    I bully myself 'cause I make me do what I put my mind to
    And I'm a million leagues above you, ill when I speak in tongues
    But it's still tongue in cheek, fuck you
    I'm drunk so Satan take the fucking wheel, I'm asleep in the front seat
    Bumping Heavy D and the Boys, still chunky, but funky
    But in my head there's something I can feel tugging and struggling
    Angels fight with devils and, here's what they want from me
    They asking me to eliminate some of the women hate
    But if you take into consideration the bitter hatred I have
    Then you may be a little patient and more sympathetic to the situation
    And understand the discrimination
    But fuck it, life's handing you lemons, make lemonade then
    But if I can't batter the women how the fuck am I supposed to bake them a cake then?
    Don't mistake it for Satan
    It's a fatal mistake if you think I need to be overseas
    And take a vacation to trip a broad
    And make her fall on her face and don't be a retard
    Be a king? Think not, why be a king when you can be a God?
  • All the world's a stage,
    And all the men and women merely players;
    They have their exits and their entrances,
    And one man in his time plays many parts,
    His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
    Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
    Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
    And shining morning face, creeping like snail
    Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
    Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
    Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
    Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
    Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
    Seeking the bubble reputation
    Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
    In fair round belly with good capon lined,
    With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
    Full of wise saws and modern instances;
    And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
    Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
    With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
    His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
    For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
    Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
    And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
    That ends this strange eventful history,
    Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
    Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

    Bütün dünya bir sahnedir
    Ve bütün erkekler ve kadınlar sadece birer oyuncu
    Girerler ve çıkarlar
    Bir kişi bir çok rolü birden oynar,
    Bu oyun insanın yedi çağıdır.
    İlk rol bebeklik çağıdır,
    Dadısının kollarında agucuk yaparken...
    sonra mızıkçı bir okul çocuğu...
    Çantası elinde, yüzünde sabahın parlaklığı
    Ayağını sürerek okula gider...
    Daha sonra aşık delikanlı gelir,
    İç çekişleri ve sevgilinin kaşlarına yazılmış şiirleriyle..
    Sonra asker olur, garip yeminler eder.
    Leopara benzeyen sakalıyla onurlu ve kıskanç,
    Savaşta atak ve korkusuz,
    Topun ağzında bile şöhretin hayallerini kurar...
    Sonra hakimliğe başlar,
    Şişman göbeği lezzetli etlerle dolu,
    Gözleri ciddi, sakalı ciddi kesimli...
    Bilge atasözleri ve modern örneklerle konuşur
    Ve böylece rolünü oynar...
    Altıncı çağında ise palyaço giysileriyle,
    Gözünde gözlüğü, yanında çantası,
    Gençliğinden kalma pantalonu zayıflamış vücuduna bol gelir.
    Ve kalın erkek sesi, çocukluğundaki gibi incelir.
    Son çağda bu olaylı tarih sona erer.
    İkinci çocukla her şey biter.
    Dişsiz, gözsüz, tatsız, hiç bir şeysiz..
  • ...
    Dying
    Is an art, like everything else.   
    I do it exceptionally well.

    I do it so it feels like hell.   
    I do it so it feels real.
    I guess you could say I’ve a call.

    It’s easy enough to do it in a cell.
    It’s easy enough to do it and stay put.   
    It’s the theatrical

    Comeback in broad day
    To the same place, the same face, the same brute   
    Amused shout
    ...
    Sylvia Plath
  • You use a glass mirror to see your face;
    You use works of art to see your soul.
    [ George Bernard Shaw ]