1. |
Idiot Fingerz
03:14
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Everybody rejoice!
What a glorious sound!
The church bell still rings!
The church burned to the ground!
I’m a killer in heaven
I’m the damned in the cold
The sauntering mustang
The whispering gold
My idiot fingers tickle brainiac keys
Keep tapping away when the dream’s a disease
My family’s gone, my ecstasy blue
My confessions are written in the very same hue
And I
don’t care
if the ink drips
Oh shit, Beelzebub froze
I bust in my slippers then rust in my pose
Won’t snitch to Hipster Five-0
I’m up to my nose in fucked if I knows
I flow to alarm clock static
Bedroom feels like an Anne Frank attic
True life: I’m an A-bomb addict
What’s another friendly snake to Saint Patrick?
I snort that pistol smell
When I Billy Burroughs a William Tell
Dump a clip of them Fair-thee-wells
and break bread with the wiz kid Ne’er do-wells
Hit the work bench, Slacker Genius
Here for now then it’s back to Venus
with keys tucked in straight jacket creases
Cactus needle on rap releases
Prick, you ain’t got nothing on the gift
Every other day the whole outlook switch
Madcap dash to lunatic fringe
I don’t purge, I just binge binge binge
No doubt, no drowsy Auschwitz
In the house, bound to be ousted
like a louse, on lousy couches
Gouge me out! Yeah, gouge me out, bitch!
Ghostface falcon swag
Breaking bad like I’m Malcolm’s dad
Malcontent in his mountain lab
Lock it down, it’s my Alcatraz
Thou shall not pass, but nice to meet ya
Habit creature with cabin fever
Surgeon mask around fashionista
Laughing at you fake Sandinista
Please stop, I hate you all
You can suck my dick and my hater balls
Your baby’s ugly, I hate your dog
Your beats are boring, your tape is soft
All I want to do is move a few kids
to shoot a cop when they cop the new shit Style on suckers like Posdnuos did Howdy doody’s like how’d he do it!?
I don’t know, man
I don’t know, man
I don’t know
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2. |
Shoot 2 Kill
04:01
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Food in the stomach, gas in the van
Five o’clock shadow and Dracula tan
Pushing a fang on a passionate Stan
Don’t trust a man with Immaculate hands
No.
If you must know
my black lungs spit dust bowl
Over gun beats with gusto
Clutch doe and huff rust-o
You’re picket fence and grass yards,
I’m gargling with glass shards
Thick skin, black scars
That I rock like a jacket at NASCAR
Vroom.
Ya boy ain’t right
He’s all sucking venom out snake bites,
And switch blades, and cage fights
And piss and vinegar (date night!)
Dare you to swim in my Gilligan Tide
Nothing to loss when you’re willing die
Filling my pockets is killing my high
Don’t meet your heroes they’re living a lie
True.
Constantly wondering why
I married the game with a wandering eye
Giving her everything just to get by
And I’m showing no mercy call me Cobra Kai
No.
Calling all Infidels
Who Sold their soul, checks in the mail
Push envelops like sleeper cells
Push bamboo shoots under fingernails
I got a style with no twin
Your flow makes those who know cringe
White boy, no awkward code switch
And I shoot to kill
Fix your incisors
With two fists like meat tenderizers
I’m like if they gave MacGyver
A side kick and a psychic advisor
Industry survivor
Pirates, lies, and colonizers
But they’re none the wiser
Trash bars are gas in my dumpster fire
I specialize in
Making bombs out of fertilizer
All glassy eyed after
Highway drives on tranquilizers
I’m off the Geiger
I am death, I am Oppenheimer
Without regret and I’m off that Pfizer
And I shoot to kill
Kill your ego, kill that monster
Kill a cop they’re corporate killmongers
Kill ‘em all, yup, kill the children
Kill the beat like drones kill civilians
Kill the messenger, kill the sender
Killing brain cells, can’t remember
Kill with kindness? Kill that noise
Curmudgeonly killjoy
Kill with ease and kill at will
Kill the robots programmed to kill
Kill for fun, just killing time
Bit off kilter, killed that rhyme
Kill a soldier and you’ll be honored
But I’ve been sent to kill Sarah Connor
Kill your battery, let it melt
My phone just told me to Kill myself
And I shoot to kill
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3. |
Lou Says
02:58
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Lou says, “I must confess,
I don’t know myself but know I’m no victim”
He was born with a rose in his chest
He hid from his wife under skin that don’t fit him
Never walked away from himself
But in his turmoil, he found a new Jesus
Then rejected identity
That fits in a box (out come the think pieces)
There’s a cancer eating my guts
I don’t know its name but talk to it daily
It’s an eager Venus flytrap
In platinum gold fronts that read, “fuck you pay me”
My world dissolves in its jaw
It’s shooting it’s cum, I’m having its baby
I can feel the kink in my spine
From swallowing sick. It’s starting to change me
Was I really there?
Lou says, “do more with less”
Then penciled his eyes on a face with no features
His soul would beam through his flesh
The moment he fed them ravenous creatures
Since I left an unfriendly nest
I read the wrong texts, I had some bad teachers
But I’d rather find a new door
Than kneel at the feet of any gatekeepers
I am fingering my inner cunt
While horny old nuns resentfully shame me
With a careless flick of the wrist
I flaunt my freedom; their lies are my crazy
I am not like you
My father’s son, brother to four only children
When I trace the map in my fingerprints
And find me, I vow I will kill him
I am an invisible man disappearing
Was I ever really there?
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4. |
Costanza Wallet
02:58
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My kingdom for a Xanax; manic panic
Whole damn planet lifts a glass to the damage
Rich men cackle as the last block’s annexed
They were always in it for the long con...Genghis
Cabal is all bimbos and junkies
Who fuck with beats dirtier than Timbos at Dunkies
Kinfolk ugly, my kind of lovely
Bundy-esque hubby with some bones in the cubby
Game day cutty, name stay muddy
Fame get studied so shit ain’t change, buddy
Same shit Brave New World in plain view
Boys in the yard are Daniel Plainview
Protect ya milkshake, bloody your hands
Hugging a cactus on a pilgrimage to comfier sands
Living amongst the mirage, shoveling grub out of cans,
Getting your news from the frauds telling you love is a scam
I only speak in dagger or flower petal
And gag on the words between ‘em
The pastor who put the devil in your details
The best minds of my generation are working retail
Or stuck in a cubicle reading emails
Poof! You’re a battery
Casualty of smash and grab majesty
Yeah, you put the gas in that yacht
It’s that same framed picture of what you have not
Yeah, what you ain’t got
How much money do you need?
How much money do you need
Before that Costanza wallet fucks your back up
How much money do you need?
How much money do you need?!
I’ve seen some devious lips whistling innocent tunes
Now a lothario smirks as he is shooting the moon
Heart full of beauty and doom, he shoots his toolie in bloom
Likes all of our pretty songs but leaves the city in ruin
Monocle polished with dollars, he got the penguin apparel
Openly scoffs at the scholars who rock suspender and barrel
While you’re splitting a bean, tugging a boot on a fishing line
Robber baron apostles will profit off of your prison time
You can’t charm the snake out his spine
Or the cake out his back pocket, that’s his basic design
And it’s amazing grace of the fading divine
The Doomsday Clock face is on fire
He got a Lady Liberty Jesus-piece, owns many an empty home
And pricing them vis-a-vis a millennial terror dome
Welcome. I fear no evil in hell alone
Yea, though I walk through the Valley of Silicone
How much money do you need?
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5. |
Me & My Rhythm Box
00:49
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|
Me & my rhythm box
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6. |
Rich Parents
03:48
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Let me get a handout from your rich parents
Handout from your rich parents
Handout from your rich parents
Don’t want to work no more
Let me get a handout from your rich parents
Handout from your rich parents
Handout from your rich parents
Don’t want to work no more
Life’s an expensive bastard,
But not with anonymous benefactors! (Wink, wink)
Sick of bending backwards
To stay on guard like your fencing class
It go, parry, parry, thrust, thrust
Let me hold some of that trust, trust
Promise this bubble won’t bust, bust
Believe it or not, times are tough, tough
So, if you don’t mind, call your dad,
Your uncle, your brother, your cousin Chad
Let ‘em know that I’m holding an empty bag
Watch me go from rags to more rags
Sugar momma gonna pay my rent
So I can get these shoes out the wet cement
Do what I’m meant to do with debt
I’mma make it through year yet
If I get a handout from your rich parents
Handout from your rich parents
Handout from your rich parents
Don’t want to work no more
Let me get a handout from your rich parents
Handout from your rich parents
Handout from your rich parents
Don’t want to work no more
Don’t want to work no more
Don’t want to work no more
Don’t want to work, don’t want to work
Don’t want to work no more
Had enough of this random fuckery
Can’t be an artist and a man of luxury?!
If you don’t let ‘em pluck your puppet strings
No Muppet, that’s not my cup of tea
(Takes sip) “That’s none of my business”
Like white collar crime with another eyewitness
To the tax man I’m nine digits
Same as your parent’s bank account, isn’t it?
No doubt, I can live in their carriage house
Might be what they need to iron their broke marriage out
Word, I don’t even need to be told
How your family invested their Nazi gold
Earmuffs! Nope, I heard nothing
Better than the crabs stuck in this bucket
Once they are done approving this budget
I’ll be on that sailboat in Nantucket
If I get a handout from your rich parents
Handout from your rich parents
Handout from your rich parents
Don’t want to work no more
Let me get a handout from your rich parents
Handout from your rich parents
Handout from your rich parents
Don’t want to work no more
Don’t want to work no more
Don’t want to work no more
Don’t want to work, don’t want to work
Don’t want to work no more
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7. |
Don't Freak Out!!!
03:18
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|
I will not get my peace
I will not rest my mind
Until these centipedes
Stop crawling up my spine
Wrench in my rib cage
It kind of feels like dying
It’s getting in my head
It’s telling me them lies
Rubbing elbows,
My personal hell so
Rocks bloody my shell toes
Fine, I’ll be like “hell no, bye”
See a crowd, turn around
Y’all can pass me by
Clipped wings, man
I ain’t no social butterfly
The doors are open and I’m watching bodies filling the room
I’m hearing voices saying “everybody’s staring at you”
Too many people now my paranoia’s setting the mood
Overly analyzing every little thing that I do
Don’t freak out!!!
This is my prayer for sweet death and pet names
While cultivating mic-drops wet as my sweat stains
Private Dick Side-Eye is giving me chest pains
My Telepathic cry for help is falling on deaf brains
Won’t be staying long
Camouflage confetti bomb
Pocket full of clammy palm
Buggin’ like I’m Anticon
Head to the bathroom just so I can be alone in the stall
I’ll make it awkward for a person I admire at all
The doors are open and I’m watching bodies filling the room
I’m hearing voices saying “everybody’s staring at you”
Too many people now my paranoia’s setting the mood
Overly analyzing every little thing that I do
Don’t freak out!!!
Choking on small talk
Broke down but dolled up
Whiskey helps me numb it, so what else would I do?
Fridays are fun but
Saturday’s fucked up
Sunday’s when the scaries all come out and say “boo!”
Don’t freak out!!!
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8. |
I Am Nothing
03:54
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|
Nice to meet you
I am Lenny petting rabbits
Beluschi’s bad habits
I’m a chain gang bandit
Wishing I could hold your hand
I do not know what I’m doing
I am Leonard Cohen crooning
I am fluent in brooding
Over rocks in my chest
I am a couch on a curb with cigarette burns
Baby in a basket, mother in an urn
Coward, runner, broken deadbolt
I am boastfully opening Al Capone’s vault
I’m a daredevil in a full body cast
A quiver on the lip of an iconoclast
In reluctant dissent to admit what he has
And tell you that
I am nothing
Without you
I am nothing
Without you
Look, I am not a doctor
I read this off a teleprompter
The truth is I am an imposter
Don’t believe a word that I say
It seems the needles of your voodoo
Never slip when they tattoo you
The magician couldn’t fool you
Saw the tricks up my sleeve
And on the day Jane died and Jim got the cancer
Everything changed, there’s no necromancers
Those were the moments old phones went unanswered
And we became the children of our unwritten chapters
Backs broken and the wounds still tender
Blissfully drafting our terms of surrender
Laughing in trenches, waving white flags
There were typos in my vows, that’s my bad
But I will write a ballad on a five-string guitar for you
With a rusty blade, I will conquer any czar for you
In a mason jar, I will bottle any star for you
Just to hold you closer I would grow another arm for you
I will take a dive to pull a fossil out the tar for you
I will use my pen to hunt the men who would martyr you
Climb the tallest oak for you and I to carve a heart into
And cut my heart in two
I am nothing
Without you
I am nothing
Without you
It turns out
I found myself in someone else
I found myself and I am nothing
Without you
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9. |
Better Than Dead
03:35
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Lemonade ain’t popular as it used to be
I’m hanging that “do not disturb” to get loose and free
All I got is this thirst to purge and worthless degree
Simmer down while that skillet burns, peep recipe
When shit hits the fan inflict some damage
Like a one-two punch from a Kung Fu flick
Let’s rumble
Yup, your boy shoots the gift like Robocop shoots dick
Your move, creep
If you disappeared, I wouldn’t lose sleep
Over lone wolves who prey on loose sheep
Gunning for the top of ruthless new feeds
New leaf Ebenezer Scrooge
In a goodwill fit smelling like cheap hooch
Don’t lose your head when that mantis dance the cooch
Neck in a phantom noose with no plan to loosen
Death comes in 3s like Hanson & Stooges
Get stuck like hands on that glue stick
Abandon that blueprint
These thieves over our shoulders
These meals of water and bread
They ask how we are doing
We say better than dead
We are better than
We are better than dead
We are better than
We are better than dead
These fang marks from that cobra
These bullets grazing our heads
They ask how we are doing
We say better than dead
We are better than
We are better than dead
We are better than
We are better than dead
No locals here left alive
Neighborhood pumpkin spice genocide
All the crestfallen swept to the side
Fuck your best-ofs and fuck your top fives
You don’t want to question my weird flexes
Put a worm in your ear it’s infectious
Can’t count on those who count blessings
Count doe or calculate wreckage
You will respect my different strokes
Same personality different cult
Technical difficulties because technically I’m difficult
Catapult curse, rap pariah
Edison in his Black Maria
Voodoo’s better than Black Messiah
Soaked in gas, please light my fire
We’re forced to drag this bolder
From this here chain on our leg
They ask how we are doing
We say better than dead
We are better than
We are better than dead
We are better than
We are better than dead
We lean into these crutches
We leak, bandaging heads
They ask how we are doing
We say better than dead
We are better than
We are better than dead
We are better than
We are better than dead
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10. |
Every Rhyme
03:30
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Every rhyme that I write
Fine liquor is poured
High society toasts
A barbarian horde
The skies are opened up
An angel strums a chord
Mothers burst into tears
As they’re praising the lord
Every rhyme that I write
Get a text from my ex
Saying he wants me back
With a list of regrets
An artist quits their job
Malignant tumors shrink
Somebody outs a fraud
A banker’s in the clink
Volcanic ash starts erupting
Captive endangered pandas start fucking
Billionaire go broke, they got nothing
Haters convert and keep the props coming
There’s a mystic curse being lifted
Tooth being picked, a snitch minds their business
A midget grows a few inches
And smacks the shit out you bitch ass critics
And all the girls say
And all the boys say
And all the theys say
Every rhyme that I write
A Nazi gets punched
A woman’s believed
A soul isn’t crushed
There’s a virgin that scores
There’s a dream that is chased
There’s a round of applause
As a pussy is shaved
Every rhyme that I write
A dictatorship ends
A middle-aged man
Doesn’t follow a trend
Spirit of Kubrick nods
Bowie winks from a cloud
Then the ghost of Old Dirty
Throws you a pound
A star collapses and a politician tells the truth
A cop pulls somebody over that he doesn’t shoot
A worker earns a proper wage and doesn’t have to steal
A televangelist chokes on an expensive meal
Space invaders say there’s intelligent life on earth
A close talker with the dragon buys a pack of Certs
I heard the pope is a fan, but I can’t confirm
Was told he does a back flip and sticks the landing, word
And all the girls say
And all the boys say
And all the theys say
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11. |
Chef Kiss
03:26
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“My heavens” -
Rich girls clutching their pearls in my presence
Podcast’s asking me what my process is
Write next shit & punctuate it with a chef kiss
“So Impressive” -
Empaths hoping to soak in my essence
Cats outside of your show in 5 seconds
And my guess is that we are not on the guest list
I always show up Glow’d up
Dripping like my throat after coke bumps
Yup, I’m all growns up
Road dog on a fucking shit-town gold rush
Now, ain’t that something?
Teacher told me I need my head piece shrunken
Beats that’ll get dem bourgeoisie slumming
Bars that’ll leave your pumpkin all sunk in
We don’t, we don’t
We don’t, we don’t
We don’t, we don’t
Fuck with you anymore
(Nah I ain’t crying, I was just chopping onions)
It’s a problem
Got the ugly in him and it don’t play possum
I’m your rock bottom like cups of Top Ramen
Rhymes commonly sound like god dropped ‘em
Hobgoblin at your dot com mobbin’
In Anonymous mask, hit that bottle and pass
Death row inmate with his palm on the glass
There’s a Boston ghost here from my Providence past
You can pay to see
My eyes roll and fist do the Shake Weight, basically
Nosy neighbors all peeking out drapery
First taste’s free, but now your bowing out gracefully
Lobster Boy gonna start his own papacy
And run shit like a hundred Jasons are chasing me
Tastefully shameless, covered from A to Z
With a steez so blatantly major league
(Hadouken)
I can’t lose, there’s Russki collusion
Spinderella’s in the back room shoop-ing
So, no you can’t speak to my manager, Susan
It’s a shoe in, like on tour
every rapper got a SP 404
Hardcore, got ‘em screaming “encore, encore”
Say my name, say my name, say no more
We don’t, we don’t
We don’t, we don’t
We don’t, we don’t
Fuck with you anymore
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12. |
Cool Cool Cool
03:36
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Cock sure and head strong
Depends on the shoulder it rests on
Gas myself like I’m a lemon at Chevron
Then crash so hard you’re like, “Sanka you dead, mon?"
Go on, poser, get ya marketing trend on
With ya off-brand ass - Jimmy Electron
Looking like you’re an exec at Exxon
I’m a toddler dropping f-bombs
Donald-ducking, crack like I’m plumbing
Birds, turning a hat trick, the turducken
When in Dublin get drunk in public
Mug looking dumber than Hacksaw Jim Duggan’s
That’s one step to a better you
C’mon dude, I got you covered like a never-nude
I see you kissing ass, get a room
Lofty thoughts like edibles are being fed to DOOM
Ya boys fucked up and broke, but still posts motivational quotes
Cool cool cool
Says he wear his heart on his sleeve, but talks shit as soon as anyone leaves
Cool cool cool
Acts like you don’t exist, but magically gonna bite your shit
Cool cool cool
Play a dope beat for these fools, and they’re like, “yeah, but I make beats too”
Cool cool cool
I rap like Nero plucks fiddle
Rome burns and I give zero fucks, kiddo
I’m Godzilla on Zillow
knocking down a hood near you like dominoes
You hold up minnows like a trophy fish
Cornball Tinder profile bro-y shit
When I see you in the wild, I’m like, "holy shit.
Hold this, I got a bowie knife and throat to slit. Mine.”
Dark thoughts see often
Hidden in my brain like Shankar Vedantam
Put ‘em on paper, your squad will geek off ‘em
Rock like I’m given carte blanche to be awesome
My coven looking like The Crucible
You got the willies, now you nibble your cuticles
I paddle up shit creek in a new canoe
If you see barkeep, I’ll take the usual
You lose if you don’t play games, douche bags get money and fame
Cool cool cool
Best friend could die on the cross, and all you’ll get is some prayers and thoughts
Cool cool cool
Showing off your new watch, and want to tell me how much it cost
Cool cool cool
Start hiding all your flaws, cuz now you’re taking up your new cause
Cool cool cool
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13. |
Bury Go 'Round
02:20
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All rise
Never mind, lick the boot and crawl by
Small guy with tall wife that’s all thigh
Bob Power low end, crystal ball eyes
Stay alive, double knot family ties
Live or die, survive the famine inside
Take a Hip shot, ignore a plan to divide
In the name any invisible man in the sky
Fuck it, let’s let the planet decide
I guess worldwide calamity’s nigh
I ain’t falling for no glamorous lie
Your favorite rapper is a nail in a hammer disguise
Better check if his Pampers are dry
Me and mines induce a panicky vibe
If the pay sucks, then shit on the manager’s dime
Don’t pander to the masses witty banter aside
Kiss my stereo
Spit them black cat miracles
‘Til flower girls toss them marigolds
And merry-go-round my burial
Merry-go-round my burial
New age hazy
Loose fit faith
As I lazily
float thru this shoe-gaze space Who saves face?
In this shameful coast
To where graves lay
And souls decay
Faster than their casings
In this 2k late, blind date
Being stood up by our saviors - Still waiting
move the info, I mean “product” Post-haste
While we waist-high with waste Polyethylene waves
And we Wade this Deadpool
That was once suitable for fish hatching
‘Til they all got caught up in six-pack rings Sorry Esh, is this too off-topic?
It’s just disaster’s my home address Trudging thru & hopeless
My exact fucking coordinates Rappers still whoring
For some face ink and ornaments Shut the fuck up
And let the 808 speak
It’s more important than your oratory - Basic little boring bitch
|
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14. |
Rose of a New Thorn
03:24
|
|||
|
Got a lot of hurt in him, symptom of an open breast
Last straw, then he barbered up the Rolodex
It's all who you know, and who I know is no one
Thought I knew myself but was like “baby that is no fun”
Iggy with a shirt on, Lou without the drag
Chased a friendly dragon then maneuvered out the back
That was my advance, I’ll recoup and then relax
Stupid, when I rap it's like a Fukushima blast
Alas, weight of the world – Atlas’ traps
You can keep that plastic trash
Alright, dude, peep it. I only trust the eye I can't see with
Poltergeist, keep your dirt mitts off the Zenith, I mean it
What’s it mean to be a dreamer?
The shaman’s deceased; the new priests are meme-rs
Who all got us thinking the same thing at the same time
Our concern is maintaining our mainline
Fuck that shit, I’m Dylan singing We Are the World
Out of step, out of touch, unfurled
And proud of it
Feeling like you don’t belong can feel kind of funny
‘Til you realize you don’t belong to nobody
So, that’s pretty cool.
Let me break it down so you can understand
You ain’t getting duped, man, you ain’t getting scammed
I am the hand of a universal plan
Not a fan? Cool, I'm a human not a brand
Toast to the poet’s soul, liver be damned
It’s real from the 1st to the 21st gram
Witness to the birth of a sacrificed lamb
Your smile’s all white veneers, nice tan
Daddy bought you diamonds, daddy bought you gold
But daddy can’t buy you backbone or soul, no
Cuddled up with Gaia, did it for the nookie
You angered your messiah when you grabbed her by the pussy
Don’t do that.
Built a little Valhalla. Holler, where my Vikings at?
Vinyl while I’m chopping up garlic for the psychic vamps
Poison ivy like The Cramps, calling cuz I got the itch
Chasing tail like a dog, never thought that life’s a bitch
Shit, I’m an American, there’s way too many guns here
Garbage in the frontier, chief shedding one tear
I was sold fear, but I wasn’t moved a cunt hair
I was busy accidentally conjuring your bugbear
Whoops.
A 3-card tarot deck, picked the fool
Never give it up, there’s too much power in the ritual
And the incantation.
Rose of a new thorn, grew up out the chop shop
Heat up a scene as lukewarm as a watched pot
Dot, dot, dot...
|
||||
Esh & The Isolations Boston, Massachusetts
One-man Supergroup
Occasional Band
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by Ceschi
supported by 14 fans who also own “Idiot Fingerz”
Sometimes you come across an artist that is compelled to do what they do. I appreciate the musicality and the arrangement and the artistry of the songs. He sings and plays like his life depends on it. I appreciate the humanity of the lyrics… Like reading Tortilla Flats, or watching Nobody’s Fool. Ceschi is a bright star. I’m glad he’s loose in the world.
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How To Capture Playful
by Pink Navel & Kenny Segal
featured on Bandcamp Radio Nov 2, 2023
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Parallel World
by Cadence Weapon
featured on Bandcamp Radio Aug 26, 2022
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Afraid Of The Dark
by TRØN & DVD
Two brothers tell their true coming-of-age story together through hip-hop bangers that draw from a wide array of pop influences.
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Deadpan Darling
by Deadpan Darling, Ceschi, Blue Sky Black Death
supported by 14 fans who also own “Idiot Fingerz”
Everything Ceschi touches turns to gold.
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