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Somethingness

This song is by Busdriver and appears on the album Temporary Forever (2002).

Busdriver:
- Now this... this Busdriver name. What exactly are you trying to say?
Are you trying to say that you're reaching out to their... your fellow underclassmen?
Your fellow proletariat, you're trying to bring them into the light?
- I'm saying nothing.
- I mean now, when you mean nothing, you don't mean "nothing"!
You mean it in a kind of existential, nihilist, Nietzsche type of way.
I mean, tell me what's going on. Explain to me, brother. Explain to me.
- Nothing.


All I wanted was insurance and a dental plan
But ladies and gentlemen
All they do is grow daisies at a mental can
Get a job! Easy for you to say
You're a member in some rap group
But at least I stood for something
I'm a baby in a trash hoop who's good for nothing

Now, upon buying this album you've done three things:
Proven that you're a hippie counterculture sun chaser, and
Proven that you're unaware of your contribution to my fundraiser for me to rule the world
And you want to join the club to get a renewal, you need a referral from a previous employer
But we know you're a schoolgirl who needs a devious lawyer to prove otherwise
In the court of law, get this nigga a sports bra, but that's besides the point
You've also proven that mundane tasks to you are like slave labor, so you don't do nothing
If you were in grave danger, your problem wouldn't prove sudden
And went inside to wake up early you at the alarm clock and the snooze button in
If you were stranded on a deserted island you would probably farm crops and stew food hunted
You inspected all the fun and you laugh, thinking if things go according to plan in the song
You'll be subordinate in a tanning salon, wearing a white shirt, with cold air freezing
Drinking soft drinks, yet dying of thirst, but for no apparent reason
Well, what are your plans today? Well, I'm certainly not gonna do any of the house chores
But I think I'm gonna dabble and do up my dissertation that I'm gonna present to Al Gore
With an unpresentable mouth sore about nothingness

Radioinactive:
There's nothing
Nothing that's better for enhancing the chance of being empty
And it'll hold a certain mystic freedom
And freedom is in a hole that people fall and die in

Record full of nothing but a bebop
An amoeba auction, a hummus falafel, a dick in the H in the Haitian abated
Graffiti verbatim preventative medicine preventing hip nethers I get up in her venery heaven
Adam and Eve are having a meeting with a cat so so soulful with a bowlful
Of no, no, no, nothing ever happens, here's a leather napkin
Riding on a killer wildebeest in the wilderness of the Middle East
And back to Italy to set this scene of nativity in the hills of Mississippi
With a dollar-fifty and a bottle of whiskey and a woman to bake me some biscuits
And a little piece of Feliz Navidad, you never had a dad
So Tenenbaum or MacDonald after Ramadan
Fast enough to catch me placing those splashes, vagabond, don't be laughing
You David Hasselhoff in a castle box, Castlevania building pencils
In Pennsylvania with the stencil stain you'll love
End of the verse, so hand me your purse
I'm the one that you will see
At the Italian Hill near you
See, I like at the opera where a life is a death, and I see that the death is near
(Busdriver: And on a basketball court backboard is the head of a deer!)

There's something I wanna tell ya
It's been eating me from inside out
Let's make it a point to get together sometime soon
And we'll talk
Come close enough so I can whisper
I've been meaning to tell you that
Oh shit, I forgot what I was gonna say
Never mind

Busdriver:
Hear my tummy moan, 'cause I spit up all my vom
But you know I gotta get a muddy gnome from puppy cones before they know these songs are full of absolute nothingness
And contrary to popular belief, our lucrative rate is in grass root cuttingness
From CD duplicates burning I don't hatch bad news and a money clip
But I have a tumor, as seen of a baby's mother tit on the mammogram
A dozen mother ships plan to land, so I could melt the demand with heat-ray gun
Instead of going to midnight mass with DJ Run
Or rich white trash sedatives house a plum substance in a pipe that announce me and the cancer as husband
And wife, but I think I'm gonna get a second opinion
Our blood analysis finds there's nothing wrong!
So I'll get a third opinion
There's nothing wrong with you!
It's just that my words are swimming again I'm drowning in my swim trunks
Doing cover songs with Alvin and the Chipmunks holding a thousand pistol grip pumps
Shouting "get crunk!" at your grandmother's house doing nothing
(Nothing! Absolutely nada.)

Rhetoric:
"Go back to Compton, you dirty nigger, we don't sell watermelons here"
Is what I yell at the white folks on the way to the gun show once a year
Nigga, some of my best friends are white, and I love mud sharks just the same
Except for the ones that come from Africa and got Johnson for a last name
Darth Vader, Rhetoric, Earl Jones James, by the way
What's another name for shit-colored in German? Take a guess
Melanin, you illiterate knuckle-dragging ethnic thief two-fifths of a person
Civil servant, welfare undeserving, never own
A suburban home, I hope they raise the rent so high
The crack money you make couldn't buy you better property curbside
In the game of Monopoly you would advance to Run (not Boardwalk!)
You hide as her pitch-white map cause your corn-fed pig wife
Gave you penis envy over the pony in the barn
Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, bestiality porn (Don't watch it!)
Defecation porn (Don't watch it!), shit-face drunk from cow-tipping last night
Your version of crackery is reminiscing on an umbilical cord
Before you had to pay for the rock and hit the glass pipe
Yeah, let's talk about civil rights, a spic straight from the
Chop-shop put together wrong, if ever there was a Mexican Transformer
He would be a lowrider named Wetbacktron
Con artists hit the stopwatch and let's play a barbed wire game
Of turntable hopscotch in the form of a swastika

There's something I wanna tell ya
It's been eating me from inside out
Let's make it a point to get together sometime soon
And we'll talk
Come close enough so I can whisper
I've been meaning to tell you that
Oh shit, I forgot what I was gonna say
Never mind

Busdriver:
All I wanted was insurance and a dental plan
But ladies and gentlemen
All they do is grow daisies at a mental can
Get a job! Easy for you to say
You're a member in some rap group
But at least I stood for something
I'm a baby in a trash hoop who's good for nothing

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