1. |
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2. |
The Rabbits
04:38
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Well my name is Schaffer and I’m here to say
I can rock the mic in the old school way
I got a funky sound
And right about now I’d like to break it down
Uh, uh, say what? Go!
Just call it hip hop, and not a thing it isn’t
If you listen it’s similar, it isn’t any different
Rhythmically delivered lyrics from a wicked beast
Are but one of this and hip hop’s similarities
‘Cause I go “bounce” in my shows and do rap hands
See, look at me, now give me a dap, fans
My whole crew back during our youths
We bumped Dr. Dre, grew up on Dr. Seuss
I choose to use the word “rapper” ‘cause that is most accurate
I do talk fast use rhyming words like “immaculate”
Hubba Bubba Bubbleyum Bubbalicious bubble gum
Rubber baby buggy bumpers, here I come (hi!)
I did raps in my heyday you could call hypocritical
But I listened and learned and grew and got more political
I wanna send a shout-out to Random and Front
And those who taught me to be thoughtful with stuff and say “what?!”
Well, I’ve got some damage and some baggage and some habits
My name is STD, I’m just a whole bunch of rabbits
I’m so dapper, this is a fact too
A whole bunch of rabbits stacked inside of a man suit
Well, I’ve got some damage and some baggage and some habits
My name is STD, I’m just a whole bunch of rabbits
Everyone will wonder when in spring, fall or summer
I will play their town and step to the mic
They’ve been begging for the rapper who’s just a bunch of rabbits
When I hit the stage they’re all hella psyched (outta sight)
I don’t freestyle, I write and re-write words
‘Cause for me that’s a skill so difficult it’s absurd
Rappers who can, the most advanced that I have heard
Where STD is just abbreviation for standard (oh!)
My DJ does shows when he’s able
Otherwise it’s just tracks, a 58 and a cable
An onstage DI and some monitors too
But no reverb on the mix, sound techs, thank you
And sometimes I get gruff and say “step the fuck back”
I apologize for that - isn’t how I like to act
I like to keep my audience up close to the stage
But sometimes I need little space right after I play
So where’s Queens at? (what?) Where’s Queens at? (what?)
Dude, let me show you on this street map (oh!)
It’s right here, over Roosevelt, across the East River
That’s enough of that, yeah, I’ve got some raps to deliver (oh!)
Every bunny, look at me
Who’s he? He’s STD
He’s that freak from NYC
In suits who yells and poses, see? (oh!)
And he’s so - I don’t know
I know he’s so dapper, and that’s when I go
Hotel, motel
Holiday Inn
Every time I cite lines from Rapper’s Delight
Goosebumps are jumping out of my skin (I win)
And I dance given any goddamn chance
Even when in the back by the merch with the fans
Pull a pen from my pocket when I autograph a poster
Sipping cheap, yellow beer, clear out when meet n’ greet’s over
When a rapper says “throw your hands up!” I do
When a rapper says “make some noise!” I do
Exciting an audience is part of the process
So I’ll always try to do it, that’s the STD promise
I’ve tried to battle rap, but it’s hard and I’m wack
So instead I keep my focus where my talents are at
Goddamnit, and I won’t be grammar pedantic
Language keeps evolving and it’s usage is organic
I got props for the real hip hop
Those who pop and lock to the beat of a boom box
Throwing parties on the block like “fuck the cops”
Gunning for that top spot, and you don’t stop
Every bunny, look at me
Who’s he? He’s STD
He’s that freak from NYC
In suits who yells and poses, see? (oh!)
And he’s so - I don’t know
I know he’s so dapper, and that’s when I go
Don’t push me ‘cause I’m close to the edge
And I’m trying not to lose my head (uh huh huh huh huh)
I’m not the best or the baddest, I’m a colony of rabbits
Stuffed inside a human costume instead (I said)
I almost always write my rhymes on a page
Of 3 x 5 notebooks I buy at Rite Aid
And I like to write them with a Pilot Precise Five
Rolling ball, black ink in extra fine, I
Sometimes use a titular line
Try sticking to my theme and write original rhymes
Indeed I smoke weed, I rarely write without it
And once again for like the hundredth time I’ve rapped about it
I guess I often write a song by my formula
Which is three verse followed by three choruses
And often open going “yo! yo!”
It just flows and gets it going when I open a show
Though I won’t suggest I’m always knowing what I’m doing (what? what? what? what?)
‘Cause oftentimes awful rhymes do ruin (ugh)
An otherwise perfectly fine instrumental
Sometimes I do avoid ink and write with a pencil
And erase the parts that don’t sound so hot
This will all be covered in my workshop
Entitled, “This Is How to Write a Rhyme
At Least It’s How to Write One in the Style That’s Mine”
Every bunny, look at me
Who’s he? He’s STD
He’s that freak from NYC
In suits who yells and poses, see? (oh!)
And he’s so - I don’t know
I know he’s so dapper, and that’s when I go
Ooh! Ooh! Yo, it’s animal control
But I really doubt they’re coming for me
‘Cause nobody has called that I’m not human at all
And that I’m rabbits masked as STD
Just call it hip hop, and not a thing it isn’t
It isn’t any different, did you listen as I did it?
I just spit a mile a minute, now I’ll hit it and quit it
I’m only kidding, you with it? You in it? You get it?
Well, I’ve got some damage and some baggage and some habits
My name is STD, I’m just a whole bunch of rabbits
Bass! How low can you go?
If you don’t know, your little brother knows
This is the end of the track called the Rabbits
And thanks for coming out to the show
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3. |
A Year and a Day
02:15
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4. |
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I got a lot, I got a lot of pockets
And in my pockets I got a lot of objects
Anything you want I bet I probably got it
‘Cause I got an awful lot in my pockets
I got a lot, I got a lot of pockets
And in my pockets I got a lot of objects
Maybe I’m a hoarder or whatever you call it
But yeah, I got a lot of stuff in my pockets
What I’m always telling you? PKW
Phone, keys, wallet, Ilana, PKW
I’m running through an inventory of my pockets
Phone, keys, wallet, wallet, keys, phone, wallet – got it
Check them off the list and see what we missed
Got a cool mint spritzer in a Listerine Mist
Next to a Chapstick, flavor: original
Four black rubber gloves, I ain’t even kidding, y’all
I got a handkerchief and half a pack of Chiclets
A gold adapter and some old raffle tickets
Eleven ultra lights left in a pack
A fresh Bic lighter (What color is it?) black, duh
A paperclip, a Duane Reade receipt
Apple earbuds and a couple of beats
A fine point roller ball, a notebook too
In which I wrote these lyrics and drew pictures of dicks
I got a lot, I got a lot of pockets
And in my pockets I got a lot of objects
Anything you want I bet I probably got it
‘Cause I got an awful lot in my pockets
I got a lot, I got a lot of pockets
And in my pockets I got a lot of objects
Maybe I’m a hoarder or whatever you call it
But yeah, I got a lot of stuff in my pockets
And if it gets intense, I got a leather collar
I got fifty cents and forty-seven dollars
A lucky talisman, a foot from a rabbit, son
Half a dozen bullets though I never really had a gun
A cookie fortune with a sick prediction
Sixty doses each of my six prescriptions
A macaroni poster that a little kid made
A switchblade comb, also got a switchblade
A broken bracelet that states I’m living fabulous
A room key card from the Hyatt Minneapolis
I have a hammer, I got a power sander
And a mint condition ’82 Cobra Commander
I got power chargers and batteries for days
Talking 9 volts, D-cells, triple double A’s
An inaccurate schematic for a nuclear bomb
And an autographed photograph of me and your mom
I got a lot, I got a lot of pockets
And in my pockets I got a lot of objects
Anything you want I bet I probably got it
‘Cause I got an awful lot in my pockets
I got a lot, I got a lot of pockets
And in my pockets I got a lot of objects
Maybe I’m a hoarder or whatever you call it
But yeah, I got a lot of stuff in my pockets
I got some coasters and coke mirrors and frisbees
And every CD every local band ever gives me
I got a sailboat, it’s got a missing rudder
Got a loaf of bread, container of milk, a stick of butter
An untouched 35mm print of Star Wars
A peanut butter cup, a couple of car doors
From a DeLorean, a portrait of Dorian
I got a bunch of live goddamn scorpions
I got a mannequin and a jack-o-lantern
A bottle of pinot and a glass decanter
I got bedbugs, a slug bug and a pair of pliers
I got earplugs, a butt plug, I’m wearing a wire
A full set of horseshoes and a pony bridle
An ice sculpture of a moose on a motorcycle
The Mona Lisa crafted in ceramic beads
Got a pepperoni pizza and a bag of weed
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5. |
My My Prerogative
03:11
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[STD Verse]
Oh shit, I did it again
Dropped unpopular opinions in a comment thread
On the topic of cover songs, I posted I found
Britney Spears’s “My Prerogative” tops Bobby Brown’s
Yeah, I said it, once again for the cynical
Her version of it’s far better than the original
Bobby’s was a temper tantrum when it was written
Then Britney came along and dropped a new edition
With the tabla at the top and the beat in your face
And that “DER DER DER DER” nasty bass
And the lyrics sound less like a bad boy
Than a young woman pushed to the edge by the tabloids
I set a fire to that comment section
And this is a cover of a cover like Inception
And we can disagree on the song
And that’s fine, it’s your prerogative to be wrong
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6. |
Slow Bros
02:21
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[CHORUS]
Slow bros
Why you going so slow?
Like you’re going slo-mo
Taking up the whole road
Oh no
Slow bros walking in a line, bros
Looking at your iPhones
Look, I’m out of time
No time
Go slow bros
Walking down on my block
Taking up the sidewalk
Left and right sides blocked
You got me in a tight spot
I’m trying to get by, got
To get uptown to my job
Was moving at a light jog
But now I’m stuck behind y’all
If I pass these white jocks
Will they mock how I walk
Or look at me with eyes crossed?
Probably best if I cross
But if you wanna fight, Brock
I’ll kick your fucking lights off
And outline you in white chalk
Mic drop
[CHORUS]
Where’s your destination?
Are you going places?
Or are you only pacing
At the pace of Jason?
Are you secret agents
With hidden lairs in basements
Like military bases
Commanding battle stations?
Did you come in spaceships
Wearing human faces
Preparing an invasion
Determined to enslave us?
Or were these just arrangements
To guarantee my lateness?
I’m running out of patience
Say it
[CHORUS]
Slow bros
Shake you like a snow globe
Take you to my dojo
Break your fucking nose bones
Oh no
Slow bros
Maybe all your mojo
Chose to be a no-show
And that’s what makes you so slow
But I don’t really know though
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7. |
Coffee
04:05
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8. |
Dentist!
03:04
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[STD VERSE]
Check me out, y’all, I’m the leader of the plaque
With a cold heart as black as my jacket, now on your back, smack!
Yeah, I’m addict, both of drugs and your fears
Addled by my own depravity, I’m drunk on your tears
Your tries to fight this gingivitis only find you violence
Your incisors bite these pliers, crying like a child, silence!
Shoving needles in your rotting gums is awfully fun
Brutally drilling your bad tooth like it’s Audrey One
A slow extraction, you can have that for free
As you scream, I’ll laugh my ass off, yeah the gas is for me
Fitting you with vintage braces, make you bark like a dog
Now hands up! Who wants their teeth done by the Marquis de Sade?
Now sit and slip into the bib and spit into this cup, I love
To whip you till you bleed, and I ain’t even wearing gloves
My novocaine is sugar water, fuck it if you’re numb
Now shut up, open wide, here I come
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9. |
Peep Game
02:49
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10. |
Beth
02:39
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11. |
Tombstone Blues
06:05
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12. |
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Joe was the top guy on a Man Show
A comic on the radio, a boatload of fan bros
Listened for opinions they could pick up
When he said that PC culture’s on a witch hunt
Bitch, what? Aww #Metoo’s got you blue?
Lay down as the woman I'm gonna cater to you
Your wood is important. Relax: decompress
As I tie you up as a place this giant board on your chest
This weight on my shoulders? Can you handle it?
Let it all fall down cause I wanna keep you grounded.
All my heavy shit press down on your vital organs
This weight cracks your bones til you scream “No more man”
Good boy! I see your tongue wag
And your eyes bug out. You’re breathless
Goodnight baby. And all my witches
Hunting fuckboys down. We’re flipping the script yeah
Double, double, toil and trouble
As the fire rises, blood will boil and bubble
The blue moon eclipse is high, and under its light
The witches are coming, they’re going hunting tonight
Double, double, boil and bubble
You have summoned up a coven of them, boy, you’re in trouble
You can cry, you can try to hide or run underground
But the witches are coming out, they’re hunting you down
Liam was a movie star on the A-list
Beloved by all, considered one of the greatest
But on a press tour stop he pulled a sick stunt
When he said the #metoo movement is a witch hunt
Bitch, what? How dare you claim, these girls pain is a fallacy
actually having the audacity to name this Blasphemy
tragedy and savagery happened in women’s history
you a bitch to me, we’re switching shit up in this century
who am I, oh you insist?
Bring ya dumbass here, I’ll show you how I lived
tie you to this rock, piercing thru ya skin and limbs
say bye to ya kids, hurl you off the sixth st bridge
I am tired of this shit, double boil and bubble
y’all have summoned a bunch of us, mother fuckas in trouble
I swear y’all talk mad with no consequence
let’s see how bad y’all get, facing the wrath of a witch
Double, double, toil and trouble
As the fire rises, blood will boil and bubble
The blue moon eclipse is high, and under its light
The witches are coming, they’re going hunting tonight
Double, double, boil and bubble
You have summoned up a coven of them, boy, you’re in trouble
You can cry, you can try to hide or run underground
But the witches are coming out, they’re hunting you down
Donnie was the CEO of America
Beleaguered by scandals, he’d just deny and disparage them
With each day’s bombshell, he’d whip up
A tweet to save face with his base and blame a witch hunt
Bitch, what? American citizens gather around your disgrace of a POTUS
Camera lenses from every state put his face into focus
And witness a witch’s way to serve him his fate
I bet the ratings will be great as he's burned at the stake
We got the flames to roast him hotter than the correspondent’s dinner
If you thought his skin was thin? It's about to get thinner
So gather up the kindling, ring around the rosie, he’s in high demand
Tie a whole lot of rope around his tiny hands
The imminent incineration will be instrumental in proving his innocence
But if he’s a sinner the tinder will immolate him like they do in Leviticus
Listen to the sizzle we’re crisping the skin of the pig as we set him ablaze
And take with him ALL religious extremists and bigots, making America great
Double, double, toil and trouble
As the fire rises, blood will boil and bubble
The blue moon eclipse is high, and under its light
The witches are coming, they’re going hunting tonight
Double, double, boil and bubble
You have summoned up a coven of them, boy, you’re in trouble
You can cry, you can try to hide or run underground
But the witches are coming out, they’re hunting you down
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13. |
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14. |
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Yo, you got a problem? I got some, lots of ‘em
Everywhere I look, I’m crawling with ‘em, rotten ones
Bottom rung dwellers want a bare knuckle catfight
They got skeletons and belt buckles, that’s right
Here they come, bum bum hits the kick drum
Wicked like the pictures, get your stun gun, dum dum
I’m done, son, better boost up the pace
They got me cruising through space, they got me losing my faith
They got me right where they want me, and they’re coming in hot
Gotta slip a little distance in, get under their shots
I brought a bat to a cannon battle, run to the spot
And hold up inside and pack up my pride and cry “mother of god!”
Rocking a hate-based rage making it up to the top
Feel like my eyeballs’ll burst, my eardrums gonna pop
I got my talons out, calling like a bald eagle
I got seven billion problems, and they’re all people
I hate people, I hate people, they’re evil
At their best, they’re bad, at their worst, they’re lethal
Lost all hope, past the end of my rope
I’m just a misanthrope, and I can’t cope, people
I hate people, see, all people equally
Just a plague upon a planet we inhabit needlessly
It’s too late for me to wait for what the future brings
I’ve seen the human beings ruin things
Watch ‘em cheat and steal and turn a blind eye
Watch the self-serving, back-stabbing, wolf criers lie
Watch ‘em feed, turn their wants to needs, greed getting big
Watch ‘em wallow in their sickness, filthy two-legged pigs
Watch ‘em pass you on the right, park and take up two spaces
Interrupt you when you when you’re speaking, making smug, vacant faces
Cut you at the bar, plunking down not a bone
And come to a dead stop on the stairs and then fuck around on their phones
Back peddle hate speech like they were jesting only
Block a sidewalk, walking four abreast slowly
Push their way aboard and block the doors on the train
Out with their hella giant umbrellas after the passing of rain
You mouth-breathing, open-mouth-eating cretins spit and spray
You manspreading, mansplaining pricks, put your dicks away
You name-dropping, shade-tossing, never-been stars
Oh god, delete this species, please start over on Mars
I hate people, I hate people, they’re evil
At their best, they’re bad, at their worst, they’re lethal
Lost all hope, past the end of my rope
I’m just a misanthrope, and I can’t cope, people
I hate people, see, all people equally
Just a plague upon a planet we inhabit needlessly
It’s too late for me to wait for what the future brings
I’ve seen the human beings ruin things
All of the sexist and the racist and deluded
White dudes who think that criticism equals persecution
Fuck the All Lives Matter crowd, feed ‘em to the fishes
With the sickening Christians calling their bigotry freedom of religion
The pious with their bias-backing stats they cite as facts
And the bros in feminist clothes who don’t get claps, then attack
The sexual predators, circling sharks who depend
Upon the support of the chickenshit rape apologists they call friends
Like that pretentious artist fuck who fights that man is better
And that no-talent hack who still bites the hands that fed her
The guy who wanted me working for free and talked shit when I didn’t
And all of the kids who say that I suck who’ve been in my scene for like minutes
Those who have the power to resist, but wouldn’t dare
And the child in the White House and those who put him there
I’m over ‘em, fed up, I’m had enough of their stay
And if you’re with me, put a hand up, now go the fuck away
I hate people, I hate people, they’re evil
At their best, they’re bad, at their worst, they’re lethal
Lost all hope, past the end of my rope
I’m just a misanthrope, and I can’t cope, people
I hate people, see, all people equally
Just a plague upon a planet we inhabit needlessly
It’s too late for me to wait for what the future brings
I’ve seen the human beings ruin things
Now fuck off
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15. |
Halloween
03:36
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16. |
Oogie Boogie's Song
02:37
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17. |
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Well I saw the thing crawling out of the ground
It was stumbling about, made a horrible sound
I commenced to shaking and I say "ooh-eee!
It looks like a purple people hater to me"
It was a four-eyed, devil-horned, crying purple people hater
Four-eyed, devil-horned, crying purple people hater
Four-eyed, devil-horned, crying purple people hater
Sure looks strange to me (four eyes?)
Well he brushed off the earth and he leaned on a tree
I said Mr. Purple People Hater, don't hate me
I heard him say in a voice so gruff
(STD ...)
It was a four-eyed, devil-horned, crying purple people hater
Four-eyed, devil-horned, crying purple people hater
Four-eyed, devil-horned, crying purple people hater
Sure looks strange to me (devil horns?)
I said, Mr. Purple People Hater, what's your deal?
And then he shot me a look, his eyes were cold as steel
I asked him the reason that he came to land
(STD ... )
Well bless my soul, rock and roll, crying purple people hater
Pigeon-toed, under-growed, crying purple people hater
(Hot pink hot pants!) friendly little people hater
What a sight to see (oh!)
And then he turned from the tree and his face had turned red
And he started to rap, up off the top of his head
It was a syncopated cadence with a banging hook
(STD: ... )
Well, hit the stage, get a cage, crying purple people hater
Middle-aged, made of rage, crying purple people hater
(STD: ... ) crying purple people hater
What a sight to see (purple people?)
Well, he went on his way, and then what do you know?
I saw him last night at a hip hop show
He was killing it up until he saw me and said
That if I ever say his name again I'll wish I were dead
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18. |
Final Boss
03:18
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19. |
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Schaffer the Darklord
Schaffer the Darklord (or STD) is a New York City-based rapper and comedian with material best-suited for brainy and/or drug- addled audiences. With manic energy, verbose vocabulary and cartoonishly commanding stage presence, STD skewers such topics as hedonistic substance abuse, sexual compulsion, urban anxiety and obsessive cat-enthusiasts. ... more
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