you may say i needed time alone to rest my dome

yo then what!

life's a bitch and then you live, stand up give, something like before our time, allude to the 50's america in its prime, now it's dead liek the trucker hat and i couldn't muster that maybe we are jsut stuck don't give a fuckless fuck about what used to happen cause i sharpened up my edges, and i read you under the table, so maybe all this french i hear is just a mask for something not as charged, not as heightened as this beautiful enligh language, cause nas wasn't speaking portugese, and allen ginsberg sure didn't write howl in spanish. so i will put all my chips into my anglo pot, and boil it, and foil a plan to bless everybody with something they can buy and unwrap and put in their system or their tele or their hand, and hear it or see it or be it and expand, but not in the terribly cliche was that generation i Pod digs as "expand, expand your mind, man", not that fake ass bullshit that just wants you to expand your mind to be closer to being fully committed to everything everbody else is doing, i'm talking about the expansion of where you came from and where you are going, the I in capital letters, the I that deconstructs itself from mtV because the viewer is always wrong, the viewer can't afford the freshness, but the viewer with a tEte stands up, breathes, looks at the pictures and the sounds and the clothes and decides fuck it all, ima take my dollar, my dream, and my mother's credit card and change the fucking world, one viewer at a time.

CULTURE SHOCK + IMPRESSIONABLE YOUTH + TRUTH - AMERICA = (something you can spit to)