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letra de cold sweat - jak tripper

(i felt myself sagging under what was much stronger than i. first i could not use my ankles, and then i could not control my knees, and then my waist began to break under the strain, and then my shoulders turned in, and in the end i was compacted and fetal, depleted by this thing that was crushing me without holding me.) [an excerpt from andrew solomon when interviewed and asked to describe depression to those not afflicted]
(and i do this cause your so happy.)

i bleach rainbows with hopelessness, at shows fixed tourniquet tight flows and a c0ke syringe, and close the sh-t
quieter than a folded flag out the box when i broke the skin
my lines water birthed in a church blessed by me
it can’t be studied by any rap scholar in nyc
how could the city forgive a wretch like me
i f-ck with minds like senates for cognitive neuroscience at mit
my origin’s not on oed, these cyber geeks, i’m just a junkie in a petticoat
you can smell me broke, surviving off little debbie and jelly rolls
i carry tranquilizers like laos platoon sleeping at telescol
i’ve done sh-t to my flesh to make your belly fold
and stayed in the subways for transport and dodging a bright sun
spikes plunge, lean up against tiled wall, slide down and write one
pull out the blunt contaminated and light one
walk into hospitals losing blood and sliced up
i’ll murder the hobby horse, oxy snort, hair gel spikes in front of clubs forming posse dorks
i kamikaze doors til i p-ss out on the euro rocky floor like opium den smokers and poppy stores
pin pr-cks, razors slid and slit wrists
soak bandages in syringe tips drip, seven day binges
nerves switching, neurosis symptoms, muscles stiffen, skin itching, scratch to the bone, sinking fingertips in
self inflicted, kitchen fix kits; needles, spoons, powder and kindling
spinning head, exorcism, detox, spitting phlegm color of spinach
remeron, sinequan, then i’m gone to the magical land of sick in bed
skin is sticky sweat, can’t kick the meth, feel like i was kicked to death
succubus sit by my bed side, i can’t lift my chest
met a girl her name was popular, she came with scars, a-list, pain involved
year 2000 bas-m-nt stars
flood this genetic roulette with catapulted me into a velvet rope shangri-la
blatant sn0bs backpacking notepads with written freestyles and microphones taped to palm, blaming gods
wish i was dead (why), first pull personal
shotgun journal bursts skulls to sludge fertile, adrift i sit plural
eating cancer asleep, euthanasia through spine epidural
splatter mind on mural, thoughts drip down to ground in a mound of manure pools
i’ll leave you beside yourself, you’re left on my right like two lefties writing facing each other in the reflection of a knife
my darling, cut my arms deep enough to reveal the arteries’ grape juice
tell me i hate you in the mirror with me siphoning your wounds from mine, to sustain you
life got boring, my own image in a gl-ss was pain fuel
blankets over blinds in a gray room, st-tched up and painful
sipped red wine in which the same color the green veins shoot
took pills and came too, i’m invisible
no way to leave this planet, i walk it fatal
study my life and compare to when i stabbed myself in the stomach to die slowly in my own blood
playing with it, with my index finger drawing hearts to show love
slit wrists, slip in a warm bath, lock the door and doze off
too late for hindsight, drifting away from the white light
looking at my body on my right side, died with the spike hanging from a pipeline
i sit in a den and typewrite, living dead night
geiger, street fighter and high-time
my eyes sulk deep in a cheek bone scr-ping residue
i’m like a czech hippy, dissident tribal poet heavy dude
murder san francisco like the i-580 k!ller waiting for priest to okay and execute
dest-tute of sanity, paid venues, i p-ss out on stage, let them boo
rap’s corny, but i’m bored so i’m still selling legs in boots
when i get headaches the pressure can stir up dirt on a crescent moon
i’m saving my paxil, prozac, trazodone, endepricol and celexa too
then digest after morning meeting, drop dead the color of nice weather blue
celebra and culture out the closet
i circle the globe like a blimp carrying heavily vomit
see lung, heavy sludge of ice under fog lift
a zinger spit oxymoronic cold comfort farm, weight cosmic
smash mouth topics, dow jones melt down your album’s stock drip
there’s an ozone hole in my thinking, poison the airwaves
wait i get like no airplay, unless pseudo europeans supported my harry potter rise ’99
it took me 21 seconds to tear sp-ce and fold time
evolved in ’05, quiet with no outside influence to hold mine
wait for underground to nosedive, keep the goldmine
i’ll sell other tenants for me to spit
better than you, and boast mine
punk creative, my juices flow like my climax after they pole ride
f-ck a biter victim, i call a ghost write
thanks for the room and board, take my earliest demos and hold mine
f-cking bovine stock, cattle feed paul white
trash and battle geeks, simpletons, gas yourself, i’ll hit the stove light
and support your glow for the five people that just show live
my d-ck bigger than your whole life
in the south for the winter, four months i wrote this before i got my phone time
valhalla ghost, peace to the basketball court muslims, westchester throw signs
gained weight, hit the tc and bench, putting in work the whole time

that’s it, that’s it. the end

- jak tripper

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