Vincent E. L. - Concentration Difficulty

Briljant!
Allt jag kan säga!

Briljant!

Tack så mycket!

Bara en?

galet fet, gillar alla aspekter, fortsätt sådär Vince !

peace !

Tack, det ska jag försöka göra:)

Det är en låt, inte en jävla kudde! Sov inte på den.

TUNGT!!! riktigt smutsigt, får jättemycket henry bowers vibbar, bra bra!

haha "i'm as confused as you are about the spliff" FETT!!

Det är en låt, inte en jävla kudde! Sov inte på den.

Haha!

Sjukt tung ju, keep it up!

På tal om up, UPP!

riktigt nice fan :) lyriken är fin.
beatet annorlunda, vilket I like! keep it up
dock wack att man inte kan ladda hem? :O

Dizzy89:
Man kan ladda hem, men eftersom jag är arbetslös kostar det några cent. Beklagar besvärligheten, men man måste äta.

Tack för de snälla orden förresten, gott folk:)

Turn on the thing!

Tungt, gävle up in this!

Sandvikens kommun, men tack ändå.

de är samma sak ;D

Och valar är fiskar och spindlar är insekter?

Galet beat! Resten föll mig inte i smaken, dock inte dåligt.

Man kan inte tillfredställa alla. Trevligt att du gillade beatet iaf:)

Synd och skam att den glider undan såhär.

Vem måste man gå ner på för att få en låt hörd häromkring?

Här är texten, iaf:

You might not know me from Monsters Anonymous.
But I also rap on stage in concerts you wanna miss.
Bonkers, incongruous, but no less pointless than
skipping all of 2001 but the parts with the monolith
in close up, with the screen saver screaming through half the movie.
Like my Swedish raps; "I don't know the meaning, but damn it's groovy".
Not enough. My self-esteem's getting rather screwy.
Could someone please put me in the sequel to Ratatouille?
I'm like Banjo Kazooie without the banjo. Nasty
like using an umbrella to perform angioplasty
on Angela Lansbury. That man's a pansy.
I'm making total sense. If you don't understand, just ask me.
Man, I'm crafty. And cooler than you are.
And I don't even need a castle, a pool and a new car.
I went to public school, am I FUBAR?
The Jessica Fletcher bit was slightly cruel, but that's too far.
I'm sorry, everything I say is iffy at best.
And you've got kinda low standards if you're impressed.
"No, officer, I'm not resisting arrest,
I'm as surprised as you are about the spliff in my vest.
And the piss on your chest. You'd think this would suggest
that I'm not cooperating, but I insist I'm possessed.
I know you wish I confessed, but listen, I'm stressed.
How would you like to have your system oppressed?"

"How does it feel? How does it feel,
to be totally involved in this scene, this...little scene here, hm?
No time to waste on anything else, no time to waste on...flies.
It's called focus. You might wanna try it sometime."

No no no. You can't expect me to focus
with earwigs in the mailbox and locusts all up in my crokus.
It's hopeless. And the joke is I didn't even notice
until just moments before I wrote this.
It's like hocus pocus. What sorcery's this?
Perhaps I'm making it out to be more than it is.
That'be sort of a twist.
It's just M. Night Shyamalan at the door with a gift.
"Not the end of the world. Don't know why you're afraid."
But then I go and make the same mistake Pandora made.
Open it up. Bunch of arachnids
and aphids. Not unlike bunnies in hat tricks.
Fuck that shit. Now they're eating my cactus,
my fabrics, plastics, prophylactics.
I got distracted from this rap thing. What's happening?
The flagship is sinking and I am the captain.
I'm acting batty, like George Clooney in batnips.
Half my ad-libs are jumping jacks and backflips.
I would practice my tactics and magicks,
but the beatbox sounds crap through chapped lips.
I stack chips, but only in red Pringles jars.
I won't smash anything less than twelve-stringed guitars.
And I want my trailer completely full of twinky bars.
Not to eat or anything, just to fling at cars.
From all the twinkling stars upon the firmament
I heard that wrinkly balls are kinda permanent.
Where do you think you are, in an advertisement?
I just faced Genghis Khan in a tournament.
So what if I lost?
That is one emperor you do not wanna cross.
I'm shit with swords, but pens drawn, I'm hella tight.
Ervig-Lindqvist, cretin, try to spell it right.


"Shut up, Vincent!"
What?
"Shut up, Vincent. Just shut up."
But--
"Shut up, Vincent!"
But I-- I was just rapping.
"Shut up, Vincent. Just shut up."
What did I do wrong?
"Shut up, Vincent!"
Was it the twinky thing?
"Shut up, Vincent. Just shut up."
'Cause I don't have to do the twink--
"Shut up, Vincent!"
But the-- the trailer...
"Don't worry about it, Vincent, we're not going camping."

underbar låt. stört tungt beat.

Heelt galet! Kan ju inte säga annat, blir sällan besviken när Vince gått lös med kreativiteten.

Man försöker iaf... håll utkik efter Monsters Anonymous, som kommer imorgon bitti!

Galen produktion. Lite för smutsigt, men på ett bra sätt. Sen är det din vanliga skruvade lyrik. Väldigt Fleppo helt enkelt. Jag gillar.