we were raisin hell, howd it turn so bad i was raised so well

Hes actually gettin better at rapping.
I feel like this is partly descended from the the kind of stream of thought disconnected non-sequiter flow that everyone loved wayne for*, but i think roach does it with a more unique and unpredictable style, breaking down into different patterns like every couple of bars and he really gives you the impression he could take it in any direction.** But despite veering into these huge run-on tangents he throws out stuff thats quotable out of context constantly and somehow makes these really focused songs out of all the madness. Which is like cookin a curry and tryna fry the steak thats submerged in it at the same time.

And its a hugely replayable style, if theres a league for rappers that required multiple listens this dudes up there. How anyone can keep their heads buried in the boring as fuck always stationary repititious nostalgia sand and not look up and see the ocean of really original new talent thats been ever increasingly nourishing this approaching second rap golden era  is beyond me.***

* Mac dre too but i see just as much neverending freestyle wayne in his prime on songs like these.

“the world i s your customer, serve him what your best at
im from the bay, like dre – where the crest’ at?
i gotta fly to see my pops did you catch that?
my moms is the best dad, focus on you so hopefully when you
see me you wont get mad…
jet-lag – …..i dont got it
im gettin lit wit the pilot in the cockpit
you know im fuckin playin,
about that fuckin plane,
i aint tryna die cos the pilots high
** stay on some cool shit, dont play with that bullshit
i stay on some cool shit, dont play with that bullshit ————————–  <+>
dont always break em but i always got the rules bent
tell me how the do her when im a lover not a fighter
and i started real young, had a rubber in my diaper
my wife really got other girls tryna wife her
i feel like im a morman, and when i get rich
ima have midget doormen whol make me feel important
its a hard knock life, ask jay-z
or annie, the orphan, dont make, me
bring out the italian, start extortin
parkin your porche and, take, your keys
cos if these kids, are like we were
then your fuckin porsche gon be gone for sure,
caught em slippin at the gas station,
all they saw was the cars big ass shakin

*** Im goin so out on a limb with that ridiculous new-age hippy nonsensical grand declaration anology, a no homo would be like throwin on a bulletproof vest before the nuclear bombing. i shouldnt have to apoligise for being young and enthusiastic bout great rap music tho, fuckin cynical “ironic” – (ye havent a notion) internet has me second-guessin meself. fuck that.
<+> And “my eyes are brown, im really five seven but i say im size eight” might just be better than the wayne “gremlins” line.

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