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Please read carefully and try to hear what I am not writing.

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Curiously, Quinton of the Lower East Side lived "Off of the kindness of strangers."

Do you know Quinton? 
  One guy told me how he was gonna blow someone out of his house with a shotgun if he had the wrong chance....
   I worked for him.  He was not a mover.  But he wasn't wise, either, however there was a Mexican family involved and I kinda liked them.  I just had no idea why he was doing, like, what-evah....

I am amazed at how many churches get up in arms about Christians participating in Halloween, and yet turn around sell Christmas trees in their church parking lots.

The Snake Mounds in OHIO are what first clued me into your scent - those are the result of SOMETHING, you know... Goldsworthy? 

        There is no I in Roddenberry.
        If you're a nigger, you're a nigger.  Reverend Moon isn't William Trenton Chase.  Sandy isn't William Trenton Chase. 
    Yo Nigger.
   Yo Nigger
  Yo Nigger. 
             Public Enema Limited became Public Enema Enemy. 



Yo! ho! yo niga! yo niga! no niga!
Check it out
How can you say to me yo my niga
Cursin' up a storm with your finger on a trigger
Feelin' all the girls like a big gold digger
Take a small problem
Make a small problem bigger
Yo I ain't poor I got dough
Don't consider me your brother no more
Goddamn kilogram how do you figure
I don't want to be called yo niga
Yo niga
Yo niga
I try to make my statements
Stick like flypaper
Judge says to me yo niga sign these goddamn papers
My boss told me yo niga you're fired
Yo niga this, yo niga that
I know you're a niga now 'cause your head got fat
Flava framalama boy you won't figure
I don't wanna be called yo niga
Yo niga
Break it down
Everybody sayin' it
Everybody playin' it rolling on the scales
'Cause everybody's weighin' it
Toby say yo I be good niga
Let me get a shovel make a good digger
I don't care how small or bigger
I don't want to be called yo niga
Yo niga...


Meet The G That Killed Me Lyrics

Artist: Public Enemy (Buy Public Enemy CDs)
Album: Fear Of A Black Planet

Man to man
I don't know if they can
From what I know
The parts don't fit
(Ahh shit)
How he's sharin' a needle
With a drug addict
He don't believe he has it
But now he does he doesn't know cause he
Goes straight to a ho
Tell you what who was next on the but
Wild thinin' on a germ
Runnin' wild
Yo stop
But the bag popped


(Featuring Sister Souljah)
Signed, sealed, delivered I B yours
I pour it on the breaks
Till it break laws
Givin' the gabbin'
So the brothers be havin' it
Or else the five fingers of dope'll
Be grabbin' it
Wit' no complaints
Givin' uppin' I ain't
On the mike
Like Karl Malone in the paint
Why rip a rapper
When he flow like water
I rather rush a television reporter
The frauds that tried to front
Watch ya back
Stop pullin' those lil' stunts
Assault and battery
'Cause I snatched the battery
Off his back...the TV pack
Why pop the rhyme
On a rhymer when I kick it
Rather spend my time, spittin' on a bigot
Who pumped the pimp
That fed the fiends
He got jumped by the brothers in Ft. Green
They slapped the mack
That kept us back
Sucker suckin' the hood like drack
So if ya draggin' us down
Wit' the wack attitude
Get up, lookout, get out the way

continued below...


Definition of a set-up
Pourin' it on and won't let up
'Cause f-a-l-l-i-n
Never applied
To this brother that tried
To let ya know
The folk of the American joke
That kept us broke
Now I'm ready to rap
Strong fax I swing
Like Bo Jax
I'm never calm on a bomb track
60 percent 3/fifths
Huh prostituted
Why I'm mad
'Cause it's written on the paper
Right now
Muther F--- bow
The tricks
Of the trade and the money made
Who got the money betcha bottom
Dollar bill
Gonna find
Some rich ol' bloodline
But the blood is in the mud
Take the whack an attack it
Like a Skud
To the patriotic hater
That got paid off my people
I'm rude
Lookout, get out the way

An what I'm gettin' is mine
I bring the noise
To town
So let's get down
I cranked the beats
Tearin' up the street
And the park
An it ain't Mozart
Jack movin' out
'Cause the black movin' in
And its old
I said it in
Who Stole The Soul?
(Listen) but 92 bring
An attitude
That say I don't give a
About the old way
This is a new day
Tell Jack stay in the back
And all the other
That don't matter
You got
Somethin' to prove
Get out the way


Hit me
Going, going, gone
Now I dialed 911 a long time ago
Dont you see how late theyre reactin
They only come and they come when they wanna
So get the morgue embalm the goner
They dont care cause they stay paid anyway
They teach ya like an ace they cant be betrayed
I know you stumble with no use people
If your life is on the line they youre dead today
Late comings with the late comin stretcher
Thats a body bag in disguise yall betcha
I call em body snatchers quick they come to fetch ya?
With an autopsy ambulance just to dissect ya
They are the kings cause they swing amputation
Lose your arms, your legs to them its compilation
I can prove it to you watch the rotation
It all adds up to a funky situation
So get up get, get get down
911 is a joke in yo town
Get up, get, get, get down
Late 911 wears the late crown

911 is a joke

Everyday they dont never come correct
You can ask my man right here with the broken neck
Hes a witness to the job never bein done
He wouldve been in full in 8 9-11
Was a joke cause they always jokin
They the token to your life when its croakin
They need to be in a pawn shop on a
911 is a joke we dont want em
I call a cab cause a cab will come quicker
The doctors huddle up and call a flea flicker
The reason that I say that cause they
Flick you off like fleas
They be laughin at ya while youre crawlin on your knees
And to the strength so go the length
Thinkin you are first when you really are tenth
You better wake up and smell the real flavor
Cause 911 is a fake life saver

So get up, get, get get down
911 is a joke in yo town
Get up, get, get, get down
Late 911 wears the late crown

Ow, ow 911 is a joke


LSd and LSD Lyrics (Stp?)

Artist: Public Enemy (Buy Public Enemy CDs)
Album: There's A Poison Goin On...

Told ya buffalo soldier
Fell to the ground like folgers
Couldnt hold the boulder
Fancy dancer paralyzed for an answer
In the hip hop game but the rap got cancer
Tumors poppin from the middle of rumors
Generation x be the end of baby boomers
Is the next generation headed for doom
Control the soul and you got a got a
Truck fulla fertilizer blowin up the spot
Think its terrorism the border lines hot
Check the passports tap the telephone
Surprise they home grown
And one of your fuckin own
Its dat same ol shit - dat same ol game
From that same ol gang up to that same ol thing
Now what i see say you know me
I pour a metaphor of lsd

I dont know what yall thinkin about
But if you know like i know
You better strap on your seatbelt
Cause you in for a long ride

Now i be damn i been a man
Figure i never call myself a nigger
To get benjamans
Whats love got to do wit what you got
Not a whole lot / no forgot oh this shit is hot
Spendin all the cheddar for clothes
Wit a sign foreclosed on the front mud
Lost in dominoes

continued below...


Now the heads tell tales
How the dead bled and fled
Now they livin up in the bed
Instead they seize us like jesus
Married to the mob did a sloppy job in hempstead
Lord had mercy wanna curse me
New world order got my ass drownin in the water
Now what you stuck to the west
That funk to the east is phat
Atl be krunk dirty south
Thirty thou crankin trunks
Try to pass the test but to the rest they flunk
Now what be indebted
Better get over it
Those times and raps aint never comin back
No future without a pass i kick ass
Rock the sox offa pandoras box
Is itany wonder why the clocks flavor got
Between rehearsin a verse my jaw lox
I set the bomb between the r & b scene
Go against the grain run up on the train
And so i parallel the brains of cobain
As hip hop brain made em spill the champagne
Make it plain the sound remains insane
Come the same no holes closin up the lane
Dont ask no questions on the simple level
Can the magic get shaq back
Knicks get van exel
Bold rap lyrics fuck whatcha heard
Not no lost and found nouns or half ass words
Turnaround funk power moves ruffs
I aint never been cuckoo for no coco puffs
Lsd, set it free make em see the tricks
Rather try at 37 than die at 26

Lawyers no loyalties accountants no royalties
Lie for a lie i look em in the eye
History speaking lawyers should die
Kissed the companies and made them all cry
A new rap song and a real drive by
Why o why did the video die
The narcs and the feds got the pimp niggas fraid
Threat of the aids got the bitches afraid
The god damn white man got you afraid
Social service got your mama afraid
Scared of the fact before a niggas black
Some of you say nigga before you say crack
You got no back is what you lack
Just say black and ill see where your ass is at


Charlotte Gainsbourg The Operation Lyrics

I want to explore you
i'm gonna get under your skin
so you can feel me running through your veins

i want to examine
every inch of your frame
the pressure points that cause your joy and pain

our love goes under the knife
there is no room for doubt

now i'm inside you
my hands can feel their way
further inside than i have ever been

now i can really
mess around with your heart
and fill it to the brim with broken dreams

our love goes under the knife
two lives may be saved

and if i pull this off
i'll refuse the nobel prize
instead i will look into your eyes

if i pull this off your whole body will be mine
and i'm prepared to work throughout the night

our love goes under the knife
nothing is taboo
...here on the cutting edge of science

too much information
i feel i'm getting lost
absorbed into the fibre of your soul

deep within the abbatoir
of your entrails your insides
lost in you forever far from home

our love goes under the knife
someone got too close

our love goes under the knife
the heart was rejected by the host

  Now let me guess, someone 'fingered' the "SS" to do a job and keep box-cutters on demand...
   Almost went to SEARS, hun? 

  PLANET SWAN is CHOMPING ON THE BITS, right, honey?  I always said I'd send you some art in the mail...

   Tall, strapping, walking...
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It's some sort of... Java? Not sure, but it blocks Google spell-check!

This will make it harder for people to hide, to pass. Hiding only spreads abilism propaganda about bad spellers.

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I have no sympathy for you. I live in a world where I am constantly bombarded by unpleasent stimuli, much of it diliberately caused. Cigarette smoke, florescent lighting, and two months of out of the year the Salvation Army bell ringers all are as unpleasent to my nose, ears and eyes and sandpaper would be to anyone's skin. If the worst sensory stimuli you are going to be facing all day is my spelling errors, then you should thank whatever diety you believe created you.

If you compulsively spell-check every comment before posting, great for you. It's your choice, and it is a choice I would not take away from you. As for me, I don't care to spend the time. If you don't compulsively spell-check every entry, then telling me to do so shows the height of your arrogance. You're asking me to take time I do not wish to take in order to make my spelling more acceptable to you. Probably not more readable. For one, if you cannot understand that "tripple" means "triple," that's a serious problem. For two, LiveJournal isn't able to correct errors like "it's" vs. "its," or "you're" vs. "your." To paraphrase a popular diety these days, "If your eye offends thee, go fuck yourself."

You can argue that my lack of spelling skills makes me look stupid. (In fact, you're probably going to argue that my lack of spelling skills is proof that I am stupid). That my quantified IQ scores, especially my verbal IQ, is statisticly likely to be higher than yours does not matter. I don't messure a person's worth as an individual by their IQ. One of the major reasons it does not matter to me is that I am autistic, and proud of it. Although most autistics have good spelling skills, my subtype of autistic, the Hyperlexic, has an amazing vocabulary (mine measured in the 98th percentile), but poor spelling skills. Asside from this issue, I also stim. Some people would argue this makes me look stupid. Many people spend thousands of dollars to prevent their offspring from stimming, and some people justify this by saying that stimming causes bullying, just as my spelling causes spelling flames. I also have typical autistic dyspraxia, which again could be argued "makes me look stupid." Thing is, I wouldn't want to be friendly with anyone who would make fun of my stimming, the way I move, the way I talk, or any of the other semi-obvious autistic things about me. All making fun of my spelling communicates to me is that you are the kind of person who makes fun of other people. While bad spelling is a cognotive disability, making fun of people is a moral failure. Many people would argue that of the two, the latter is both easier to correct and harder to tolorate in an individual.
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133t Sp34k
1 th1nk l33t sp34k 1s
th3 0nly th1ng n3rd13r
th4n W0rld 0f W4rcr4ft

1 4m 1n qu1t3 4 str0ng
st4t3 0f 4gr33m3nt, s0
1 sh4ll n0d my h34d.


d03$nt 6 bIll10n
d1$qu4liFy n3rd1n3$$?
l1k3 H4rRy P0++3r.


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n3rDy +uRn$ 1nt0 m41n$+r34m..
1+ |3ec0m3$ +r3nDy.

Th3 f4c7 th4t y0u wr073
4n 1ncr3d1bl3 l337 j4m
15 b3y0nd n3rdy.

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