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no rest for the(da?) wicked, by cypress hill.
so many fools swingin from ma sack,
less talk about the one who had ma back
down in the west coast, so lemme kick it
to the motha-fucka who calls himself wicked...
my introduction to talkin squack about some dude on your album, and i remember finding it quite invigorating.
all i had heard so far was shit like led zeppelin and weezer and the punk canon.
i'm sure diss records exist all over the other genres i was into, but it was a bit of an eye opener for me.
cypress hill were, as i recall.
timing and that.
not my favourite band by any stretch, but the beats were so damn thumping, the lyrics so harshly delivered and the subject matter so deliciously antagonistic that this teen was into it like a crackhead is into crack.
it should be stated, in the interests of full disclosure, that i also discovered rage against the machine around the same time, learning to love them in much the same way as a smackhead does the smack.
i dont get the same tingle these days, but the memory of the tingle remains. |
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