1. |
Fella - to blossom
04:03
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for the one rocking two
buns in the hair with the chopsticks
like a fresh print i don't make a comic,
you so fly girl, you a comet
killing nonsense in your presence one bit:
knee to the ground
glass of water attached to the hand i extend
pouring out life for the flower i love,
you ain't something i just like i want to pick up
then put in a vase
as little showcase, naw shorty
let your roots grow strong
want you to flourish in your natural zone
give you photosynthesis from your genesis
but love, you're a queen, everything
what it means to be the mother of the earth
you emerge from the dirt an empress
just let that soak in
there's a whole universe on the inside of you, lady
let the kingdom come, just let the kingdom come
y'all can beat the pussy dead
i'mma bring that miss to life, nigga'
she walks outside, she shines so bright
she shines so bright, nigga'
she pigeon toein', super glowin'
guiding light, nigga'
she 'bout that action, satisfaction
not your type, nigga
miss kitkat with the three tats
i need that girl, can i catch a break?
keeping three stacks caught up on tax
on track, please lord is this for me?
wanna make it splish splash to the sheets,
are mismatched, girl let's just make them waves
but i know where your mind at
ill make a heart pact
please shorty, swing my way
shorty swing my way
sure look good to me
now would you please swing my way
you can tell me what you want
and i'll deliver what you need
you're not in this alone
so baby leave that mind at ease,
if you're feeling off your throne,
let me lift you up my queen
you're not in this alone
there's a whole universe on the inside of you, lady
let the kingdom come, just let the kingdom come
you can tell me what you want
i'll deliver what you need
you're not in this alone
you're not in this alone -
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2. |
soft & wild - labor
04:17
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these stories always start at damn parties. damned parties. i was attending these things at least once a week. we were at these damn parties at least once a week. doesn’t taste like a tuesday but there’s no time and they’re all long weekends. tuesdays taste like hair of the dog before noon after a long weekend. i walk my dog with a beer in my jacket, but she’s not the we i was talking about.
i’m talking about the shoulders. we’re talking about the shoulders, hers or otherwise, otherwise ours. they keep our heads up and necks at an angle. they sway for the morn and sweat for infrequent evenings shared. bear the burden of tautology. align taut the straps of my satchel on a tuesday; i’m tired of these fucking parties. lifting these parties like childhood textbooks, storing them in this satchel. everything is lifted from somewhere.
these poor shoulders, they’re doing the lord’s work -
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3. |
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party
throwaway cold from the gold in her chain
girl pour gold down her throat, glenmorangie
whore snort coke if the bloke tote a baggie
homie poke throat or for a grand slam the fatty
outfield, stiletto heels,
lewd cursing, golden seal
raw leather, sex appeal
room service, rap deal
pharmaceuticals culled by inhalants
patience tastes heavenly blatant
alchemical angel
gold for the smoldering plight wick candle
silhouette distressed relief of a damsel
handle with care
hands to her hair, cafuné,
vase to a rose, dear
golden rule for your undressed and seasoned
treat others as you wish to be beaten
thrown by the gold in her chains
pouring all her gold in machines
just to buy the fame
owned by the gold in our chains
pouring all our gold in machines
no change
make hobbes pop and lock for gold and the paper,
before the ink dries it’s still spotty, disapprove of the slaughter
but will savor the meat - sukiyaki, a sinner’s tongue will trace
your silhouette on the street, nagasaki,
a few drops will put her to sleep
that’s all cosby,
young othello mixing crispin and modelo,
drinking it all down before the foam settles,
rap game kettle chip seller, corner the market
with more starches than your local chipotle, chris dorner to garner,
partner the grapes of the old days with the raisins of the chillwave,
pens, parchment, and quills digital age,
they cost more to save than they do to make, wooo lawd,
i said i'm slipping on the lard from your parched poultry and salt
cropped images, you’ll never taste the barn if you boil the soil
and use diet coke to chase the castor oil
thrown by the gold in her chains
pouring all her gold in machines
just to buy the fame
owned by the gold in our chains
pouring all our gold in machines
no change -
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4. |
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-
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thin product shun. Winston Salem, North Carolina
for inquiries or if you are on the spotify verification team, please contact grant livesay directly at
avastgreynil@gmail.com or livegw8@gmail.com :)
establishing lore via obsessively collecting the musings of hobbyists, collaborative or otherwise -
featured entities:
a vast grey nil
fella
grant livesay
normal people
omphalos
pat henry
prof.
soft & wild
twinn zeus
operated by grant livesay -
... more
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