Cornershop, baby.
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yeehhhh
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haha. I really can’t complain about the stuff soundcloud suggests to me. way more my bag than, say, youtube which just recommends popular things. SC really seems to know what floats my boat.
I don’t like what UFO361 makes these days, but this I dig. right up my oldfart alley.
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I know I say this a lot, but, give this one minute
ohhh:
The Dub Pistols control this shit, Blade is the vocalist, this is the year of the apocalypse, miles away and we can still see the metropolis, disappearing slowly into the distance there’s no stopping this, cruising at a leisurely pace as we breeze past the stars and travel through the Milky Way, we glide through the air, trekking at the speed of light
We’re on a trip to space where the average man ain’t been, the ground is flooded with rain to keep the Earth clean, we communicate through radio waves while the controllers of the ship are seeing sights that amaze, searching on corners of the Milky Way and galaxy, you won’t believe the types of things that we were forced to see, wait for the sattelites, wet your appetites from the distance we see the sun and it’s a ball of light, you need a microscope to see the Earth even exists and it feels like we’ve been suspended in space for years, nothing to do but think and wonder what we’ll see when we land, could this be the missing link in the bigger plan?
The Dub Pistols control this shit, Blade is the vocalist, this is the year of the apocalypse, miles away and we can still see the metropolis, disappearing slowly into the distance there’s no stopping this, cruising at a leisurely pace as we breeze past the stars and travel through the Milky Way, we glide through the air, trekking at the speed of light
T.K. Lawrence: Rhymes on tapes mics turn them into space flights, aerodynamics fly frantic with the Blade, right, pushing orbital in a low tech, cruising tight, pictures sneaking by from the glare of the computer lights, should have bought a thinner window but spent it all on endo from the dude at the last stop with three eyes in a flat top, wanted for smuggling and illegal space craft, don’t know if we’ll ever make it back, now we’re off track being chased by patrols, pull it together, hands back on the controls, tailspins and barrel rolls out of narrow places, to the center of a meteor, they can no longer trace us
Blade: The Dub Pistols control this shit, Blade is the vocalist, this is the year of the apocalypse, miles away and we can still see the metropolis, disappearing slowly into the distance there’s no stopping this, cruising at a leisurely pace as we breeze past the stars and travel through the Milky Way, we glide through the air, trekking at the speed of light
They educated us and even taught us how to breathe, gave us the diet of the food that we would have to eat, stick to the rations, never know what could happen, run out of fuel and you might never get back in (word up), three humans in the space of five meters square, dressed in space suits attached to canisters of air, alien lifeform could possibly be a threat, if that’s the case push the button and eject. They could be hostile, worse than on the X-Files, don’t try to talk to them, they don’t talk back that ain’t their style, dont’ be a hero, this ‘ain’t a movie and you ‘ain’t De Niro, don’t try to test them because if you do you’ll be gone in zero
The Dub Pistols control this shit, Blade is the vocalist, this is the year of the apocalypse, miles away and we can still see the metropolis, disappearing slowly into the distance there’s no stopping this, cruising at a leisurely pace as we breeze past the stars and travel through the Milky Way, we glide through the air, trekking at the speed of light
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