Most of these songs are things done for Song Fight! or Song Fight!-adjacent contests, and represent a real turning point in Sockpuppet’s composition and production without forgetting the roots of where this music came from.
Two of these songs are covers, and are subject to standard copyright:
All other songs are Creative Commons BY-NC-SA.
Hippy likes Hippy snacks. Hippy thinks they taste so good. Hippy likes the Hippy snacks. They’re made of whole grain wholesome wood.
Hippy snacks make them better than me, make them better than you. Hippy snacks make them better than me, make them better than you. Hippy snacks make them better than me, make them better than you. Hippy snacks make them better than me, make them better.
Yuppie likes Yuppie snacks. Yuppie likes them made of meat. Yuppie likes the Yuppie snacks. Suck them from the Yuppie teat.
Yuppie snacks make them better than me, make them better than you. Yuppie snacks make them better than me, make them better than you. Yuppie snacks make them better than me, make them better than you. Yuppie snacks make them better than me, make them better, better, better, better.
Hippy don’t like Yuppie snacks. They prefer things made of soy. Yuppie don’t like hippy snacks. Would rather play with shiny toy.
Hippy snacks make them better than me, make them better than you. Hippy snacks make them better than me, make them better than you. Hippy snacks make them better than me, make them better than you. Hippy snacks make them better than me, make them bitter.
I was going through a breakup, with someone who really wanted me to do more than I was able.
You shouldn’t fall For anyone at all Eventually you’re gonna hit the ground
Everything you do Please do it just for you Because you are so great to have around
And if you should fall From something ten feet tall I’ll try to catch you and make it okay
But everything I do I can’t do just for you I won’t always be there to save the day
And then if I should fall From fifty stories tall I hope that you’ll be there right next to me
And everything we do We ask each other to Even if we sometimes disagree
But you shouldn’t fall For anyone at all No matter what you think that you have found
And everything you do Please do it just for you Because I don’t want you to hit the ground
I wrote this song the night after I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, based on the then-current understanding of the condition (before new research showed that it’s actually an autoimmune condition), and also about my long-time frustration with just how people who don’t experience chronic pain talk to people who do.
Every day I’m just a little older I feel a little twinge up in my shoulder Icing up my limbs until they’re colder Reduce the burning pain into a smolder
I’ve got fibromyalgia I’ve got fibromyalgia I feel a lot of pain but it’s Mostly in my brain I have Fibromyalgia
I’ve got Fibromyalgia Fibromyalgia There’s something in my brain that makes me Sensitive to pain I’ve got Fibromyalgia
Well I think it’s pretty nice To eat turmeric and rice With a spicy Indian curry
And I get so much advice And I’ve heard it once or twice About swimming and Pilates and so much yoga (You should swim do Pilates and so much yoga!)
Fibromyalgia, I’ve got Fibromyalgia It’s excruciating pain That comes from my defective brain I’ve got fibromyalgia
This was the 2016 Live Fight entry for Song Fight! Live! in New York City.
It’s just a happy accident that these two Live Fight entries from the same city happened to go next to each other on this album.
This thing I found lying in the street Don’t know what it is but it’s pretty neat When I picked it up, it filled me with energy
Now everyone’s always lookin’ around Turning their head to see this thing I found Give me a look, I think that it’s jealousy
It’ll always be my lucky charm Keeping me safe and free from harm I know everything will always be okay
Everything all said, I’m good At least long as I’m touching wood My good luck charm will always save the day
It looks kind of like a rocket ship Keep it on my belt, held it with a clip And suddenly nobody wants to fight
Walking through the village green, Lots of people say “that’s keen!” Some of them even cheer and shout “All right!”
It’ll always be my lucky charm Keeping me safe and free from harm I know everything will always be okay
Everything all said, I’m good At least long as I’m touching wood My good luck charm will always save the day
A baker must be what I be Because everybody says to me Something about the dough made of dill that I wear
I’m not quite sure what they mean But I don’t want to make a scene Anyway they said to look out for a bear
I walked on by a man in blue He took one look and said “how do you do, I think I’m gonna take you into custody”
I wasn’t sure just what he meant But then it was clear this was heaven-sent Because that bear can never get to me
It’ll always be my lucky charm Keeping me safe and free from harm I know everything will always be okay
Everything all said, I’m good At least long as I’m touching wood My good luck charm will always save the day
It’ll always be my lucky charm Keeping me safe and free from harm I know everything will always be okay
Everything all said, I’m good At least long as I’m touching wood My good luck charm will always save the day
This was recorded in posthumous tribute to its composer, Seth Gibbs, who probably did not intend for this song to be about himself.
His old band’s original version is available on Song Fight!.
Space cadet, what can you bring us To bring us together
Space cadet, what can you bring us To bring us together
Space cadet can you see all of the planets and stars Lifeless and empty but they know who they are He is so alone But we are really alone
Fly away, leave us alone, we don’t want you anyway I hope you’re happy floating free up in space It’s so nice up there But it’s so rotten down here
Space cadet, what can you bring us To bring us together
Space cadet, what can you bring us To bring us together
You watch the universe go You wishing on the last star What do you think of us now How can you live with us now
Hey cadet, where do you think You’re going don’t float away Take us with you, we’ll miss you so
Space cadet, what can you bring us To bring us together
Space cadet, what can you bring us To bring us together
This song was written as a 20th anniversary celebration of the very first Song Fight!.
20 years ago I knew this guy, you probably know the type. His name was Gary or Greg or something, but everyone knew him as Golfpunk. His whole thing was breaking in windows of expensive cars using a golf club to protest the wealth gap or… somethin' like that.
Anyway, he called himself a performance artist, and some rich dude decided it would be funny to give him a Cadillac to drive around, you know, “ironically?” Golfpunk, he changed, man… He changed.
(Golfpunk, he drives a Cadillac) (Golfpunk, he drives a Cadillac) (Golfpunk, he drives a Cadillac) (Golfpunk, he drives a Cadillac)
Now that he had a Cadillac of his own he suddenly felt a lot of empathy for the other Cadillac owners and stopped smashing windows. He wanted to smash things, though, so… he took his golf club to the golf course and… he started playing.
You know, golf.
The rich peoples' sport.
And he was good at it.
(Golfpunk, he drives a nine iron) (Golfpunk, he drives a nine iron) (Golfpunk, he drives a nine iron) (Golfpunk, he’s gonna crash and burn)
He ended up entering into a tournament and won a lot of money, but then his past caught up with him and all these rich assholes, like, sued him for the windows he broke. And then he had to go on a big ol' apology tour, ‘cause it’s not like he hurt anyone or said anything racist, but God forbid some windows get smashed up.
Anyway, we all kind of lost track of him for a long time, but then a few weeks ago he reached out to me and was like, “Hey, remember me?” And I was like, “Hey, I remember you! Man, Golfpunk! It’s been a long heckin’ time.” Then he kinda went silent.
And then he says to me, “So, um, I’m not Golfpunk anymore. I got married, settled down, had kids… now I’m more of a… golf dad.”
And I was like, “Oh. Huh. Weird.”
And then he said the most offensive thing to me ever:
“And now I drive a Prius.”
(Golfpunk, he drove a Cadillac) (Golfpunk, he drove a Cadillac) (Golfpunk, he drove a Cadillac) (Golfpunk, he drove a Cadillac)
Anyway, I guess the moral of the story is it’s okay to grow up sometimes, and maybe you’re going to grow apart too. And that’s alright.
Just don’t become an asshole.
The original version of this song was written by King Arthur for the A Problem of Perspective edition of Song Fight!.
Here is the problem: The way I see you is Colored by all of the things we’ve been through. Here is the problem: The way you see me is All about the things that you think I did to you.
That’s how a problem of perspective seems to work; Gets in the way of love. We think we’ve been hurt, We say we’ve had enough, we lose the will to trust. That’s what a problem of perspective does to us.
Love keeps no score of wrongs, they tell me, but my Eyes won’t open and my heart won’t let go. I make assumptions, despite the things I see, I… I deny the evidence, I trust what I think I know.
That’s how a problem of perspective seems to work; Gets in the way of love. We think we’ve been hurt, We say we’ve had enough, we lose the will to trust. That’s what a problem of perspective does to us.
At least two sides to every story. At least one truth for every lie. The optimist afraid to disbelieve, The pessimist afraid to try.
That’s how a problem of perspective seems to work; Gets in the way of love. We think we’ve been hurt, We say we’ve had enough, we lose the will to trust. That’s what a problem of perspective does to us.
This song was written for Song Fight! Live 2020, and I don’t think people got the joke that it was a song about how 2020 was going to have been so much better than 2019 was.
(For those reading this from the distant future: It very much wasn’t.)
This year had its challenges All my flowers dead, my pain got worse, my brain got worse, there’s something wrong with my head
What happened to my career, it didn’t go my way Things feel bad, and I’m in fear I won’t live another day
oh, it can only get better oh, I know it will get better
we see the rise of fascists who think many lives don’t matter a president who’s on the brink, only cares to be flattered
where can our people go from here it all just seems too much famine devastation fear we need a human touch
oh, it can only get better oh, I know it will get better
but it wasn’t all so bad some of it was swell remember all the good times we had Song Fight! Live went well
We take the hand we have been dealt this year’s problems were a-plenty 2019 really smelt, so here’s to 2020
oh, it can only get better oh, I know it will get better oh, it can only get better oh, I know it will get better
My isle dauphine She’ll never come clean What does she mean She’ll never go clean Oh, isle dauphine
She walks down the aisle All of the while I’m thinking I’ll Walk single file Oh, isle dauphine
I heard what she said, and She’s turning all red Might as well be dead for Everything she said Oh, isle dauphine
She’s walking the border with everything in order and takes off the garter and Runs a bit harder Oh, isle dauphine
My isle dauphine She’ll never come clean What does she mean She’ll never go clean Oh, isle dauphine
This was written for Circle of Titles in 2016, when I was assigned the title “Strategies to Live,” which felt super relevant given the then-recent Presidential election which was at odds with my safety as a trans person.
It took me five years to release this album, and I kept on feeling like it was too late to release this topical song, and yet, somehow it manages to remain topical.
You can hide yourself down a deep, dark hole Or hoist yourself on a really tall pole Anything that’ll help you get away
You can do heavy drugs to numb the pain, or Ask a surgeon to remove your brain So you can fit right in and start to play
Change your face and change your name Hide everything that brings you shame Or go on a preemptive sneak attack
Dig deep into the viper’s pit Embroil yourself in petty shit Just commit ‘coz there’s no turning back
Oh, I wish I didn’t worry oh so much Oh, I wish I could feel fine Oh, if only all my hopes weren’t out of touch I wish my safety wasn’t on the line
If you’re accused of doing a bad crime Want to hide for a very very very long time Consider all the possibilities
Make a run for President Convince the people you are heaven sent You might just win and then you are home free
Even if you’re caught lying Everyone gives you points for trying It’s not that the bear stakes well, it skates at all
Even if you destroy the world It doesn’t matter, you can fuck every girl And then you can go home and take your ball
Oh, I wish I didn’t worry oh so much Oh, I wish I could feel fine Oh, if only all my hopes weren’t out of touch I wish my safety wasn’t on the line
In the long run everything will be fine It will just be a matter of time, in Twelve billion years this will all be gone
In the meantime just try to survive The world is better with you alive Outliving him is a reason to go on
This song was inspired by repeatedly tapping the tuning fork button on my portable amp.
it’s inimical inimitable and so predictable not a miracle
it’s despicable deliverable get irritable, with a thread to pull, feeling minimal
a seeming emptiness encroaching loneliness result of pettiness, try to redress the phoniness
acrimonious sanctimonious a former holiness, the brokenness melodious
finding time to spare sit in the broken chair being unaware, without a care all thoughts laid bare
a tantric suicide already dead inside climb up the hillside, across the divide, smell insecticide
there’s a new tomorrow, it’s falling into place there’s a new tomorrow, it’s running out of space there’s a new tomorrow, it’s all fucked up get your new tomorrow, you’re out of luck
get a steady job, and another piece of me get a big tv, and another take get a new degree, stuck in the machinery in the new tomorrow, you get what you make
it’s inimical counterfactual and so predictable not a miracle
it’s despicable deliverable get irritable, with a thread to pull, feeling minimal
and you simply cannot see what this all has done to me simply cannot see through the crooked lies simply cannot see everything that’s eating me nobody is looking through each others’ eyes
simply cannot see what this all has meant to me simply cannot see through the skin disguise simply cannot see all the greater piece of me walking through the hallway something on the rise
feeling critical and irritable analytical parasitical
apocalyptical stereotypical it’s predictable, hypocritical, a miracle
Everything you like, anything that gets you high Something there for everyone, something you can try Getting murry with a furry in the simulated leather Bondage in a dungeon where you can do it one better
Get your freak flag on Get your freak flag on
Everything is good in our carved out sexy spaces From the horniest of normies to the kinkiest of aces Post it on social if you’re into humiliation But remember to use content warnings – it’s just polite!
Get your freak flag on Get your freak flag on (Get your freak flag on)
Everything is good as long as everyone’s consenting Couple with some trans girls who are really into fencing Peg a strapping young lad with your strapping strap-on cock Only if he’s legal though, I’ve been around the block
Get your freak flag on Get your freak flag on (Ooh yeah, get your freak flag on)
You can be a top or bottom or an indecisive switch Take ‘em out for breakfast afterwards, if you feel the itch Safety first, remember to wear rubber, use protection And get it nice and shiny so you can see your own reflection Mmm, yeah…
Get your freak flag on Get your freak flag on Get it on and on Get your freak flag on
(freak flag) Safeword to your mother But not your actual mother (freak flag) 'Cuz that’d be gross
I mean, yuck
This song was originally written for Song Fight!, as part of the “Live Fight” challenge for Song Fight! Live 2021.
On the blog I have written up a detailed explanation of the lyrics and video.
Feeling lost in an elephant’s dream Caught up in the digital stream Cave of shadows, can’t say what I mean A million miles far from home
Best foot forward, take a step back Play defense while on the attack Sowing discord, can’t cut them no slack Everybody so alone
If everyone could see Themselves through some other eyes Innocent, caught up in the machinery An algorithmic disguise
Making everything great again Forget about your family and friends Looking for a means to an end Just don’t want to be alone
Fragile gem, split in two Internal dialogue of them vs. you Find acceptance with nothing to do The voices there are all your own
If everyone could see Themselves through some other eyes Innocent, caught up in the machinery An algorithmic disguise
A deeper body ache, and make a bad mistake A million jumping on Sharing a bad take, Nobody can quite shake The feeling that you’re gone
Feeling lost in an elephant’s dream Getting washed away by the digital stream If it feels better to share another meme Doesn’t make you less alone
If everyone could see Themselves through some other eyes Innocent, caught up in the machinery An algorithmic disguise
If everyone could see Themselves through some other eyes Innocent, caught up in the machinery An algorithmic disguise
This song isn’t about Portland, but it also isn’t not about Portland.
It’s also about Seattle.
But also it was just written for the Song Fight! Live Fight in Portland, in 2015.
We’re so happy that you want to stay But our city’s full please go away We don’t want to turn away your kind So come anyway, I guess we won’t mind
We know what you’ve seen on the TV How we live our lives totally fancy free But you really ought to know Portlandia is just a show
We are passive, and aggressive Sacred bike rights often start fights But we all drive, when you arrive We say you’ll never need a car
We have hipsters – Silly tricksters We’re ironic – Catatonic Brew our own beer, but please don’t fear ‘Cause there’s always PBR
So you live here now, you want a job? I guess that’s cool – you’re not a slob You could work at a restaurant If that is the kind of job you want
What’s that you say? You have a degree? A master’s in sustainability? That’s really great, but you oughta know I just got mine an hour ago
We are passive, and aggressive Sacred bike rights often start fights But we all drive, when you arrive We say you’ll never need a car
We have hipsters – Silly tricksters We’re ironic – Catatonic Brew our own beer, but please don’t fear ‘Cause there’s always PBR
I guess we can’t talk you out of it So welcome to Portland, We Give A Shit™ What’s that you say, you love the sky so blue? Well I guess I’ve got some news for you…
We are passive, and aggressive Sacred bike rights often start fights But we all drive, when you arrive We say you’ll never need a car
We have hipsters – Silly tricksters We’re ironic – Catatonic Brew our own beer, but please don’t fear ‘Cause there’s always PBR And there’s always PBR And there’s always PBR
#CD #SongFight #Vinyl #Popular #Dancepop #Electropop #IndiePop #Rock #Funny #Cover #Lyrical ]]>As is tradition I tried to record one short song every day in November. I didn’t get every day this year and some of the tracks really sucked but a lot of them were a lot higher-effort than usual for Novembeat so I’m satisfied enough I guess.
binaural microphone experiment
I don’t know what I’m saying But I’ll say it to you
I don’t know what I’m saying But I’ll say it to you
I don’t know what I’m saying But I’ll say it to you
I don’t know what I’m saying But I’ll say it to you
I don’t know what I’m saying But I’ll say it to you
I don’t know what I’m saying But I’ll say it to you
I don’t know what I’m saying But I’ll say it to you
I don’t know what I’m saying But I’ll say it to you
The Song Fight! version of Lumetri
try me you want to fall to sleep try me i’m better than counting sheep
try me you’ll finally rest at last try me don’t think about the past
try me it’s time to tuck you in try me you’ll be asleep again
what it says on the tin
smooshing keys until something interesting comes out
I needed a new outgoing voicemail message
[dial tone] [DTMF tones spelling out NOVEMBEAT#]
I can’t take your call right now Or I’m not picking up anyhow I will try to get back to you If you leave a message at the beep
I can’t take your call right now Or I’m not picking up anyhow I will try to get back to you If you leave a message at the beep
I can’t take your call right now Or I’m not picking up anyhow I will try to get back to you If you leave a message at the beep But I’d rather text
A song I wrote while waiting for the bus
it’s a bit long innit
an ode to what keeps me functional
i don’t know what i’m doing
this is problematic and appropriative
more garage than garage
like something from a vidya game
It all goes downhill from here
I don’t know what I’m doing But I’ll do it to you
images of childhood
A song done to celebrate the birthday of my friend Heather “moboid” Kelley.
Specific works referenced:
What’s going on there is nothing to do Everything I have makes me think of you What’s on the TV please give me a clue Maybe I’ll try to find something that’s new So I try to play a game But they’re all just all the same
Throw me some blocks flying through outer space Wearing a helmet that’s strapped to my face Something artistic, something with grace Something experimental that takes place In a world I call my own Makes me feel at home
I think that I’ve played that game I think that I’ve played that game
I think that I’ve played that game I think that I’ve played that game
Experiment with all the feelings inside Help me to find something i can provide Give me ideas, try not to hide from the Animals concrete the organs implied (I wanna pet the rabbit) (please help me pet the rabbit)
Look around corners that no-one could see Making a difference quite expressively Craving rapport as we drift to the sea What are we saying, let’s talk about me, ‘cause I’m Valid and I’m proud Quiet scream out loud
I think that I’ve played that game I think that I’ve played that game
I think that I’ve played that game I think that I’ve played that game
Falling down through space Make friends with a place Keeping a straight face Save the human race
I think that I’ve played that game I think that I’ve played that game
I think that I’ve played that game I think that I’ve played that game
I think that I’ll play that game I think that I’ll play that game
I think that I’ll make a game I think that I’ll make a game
Sort of a fitting conclusion to the month I guess
another video game soundtrack in my head
#Novembeat #SongFight #Instrumental #Lyrical ]]>in 2018 i tried to do my usual thing but i got busy and only made it halfway
A sort of sequel to Pawn Shop Bunny.
i don’t know what your problem is but i think you might be right no i don’t know what your problem is but i think you might be right
October has Inktober, where artists are challenged to draw one ink drawing every day throughout the month.
November, therefore, has Novembeat, making one short song every day.
This is the second such album I have done, and I feel that it is some of the best music I’ve ever made. It also follows the emotional arc of the month, due to some rather unexpected setbacks.
Think of it as a musical diary spanning one month in a not so great year.
I really liked Stranger Things, or at least its soundtrack.
It was cold out and my leg was hurting and I had a cat sleeping on my lap, so I decided to have some fun with a sonic soundscape that captured the feelings of winter cuddles.
The dark days were getting to me.
The depression was getting to me.
On Black Friday weekend I upgraded to KOMPLETE 11 and decided to play around with some of its presets.
This came out.
I started composing a tango song but it just wasn’t coming out very well. So I scrapped it and worked on a second take for the day.
The pain from the previous four days turned out to be due to a clot in my leg that was growing rapidly, and part of it broke off and went to my lungs, giving me a pulmonary embolism. Because of the clot I had to cease taking my HRT and start taking blood thinners. I was told I may not be able to get back on HRT ever again.
I was happy to still be alive but not looking forward to the impending hormonal crisis.
But I am still around, and defiantly making music.
My leg was hurting even more and my other cat wanted to get in on the action, so she wrote a song with me.
At this point I was just completely falling apart, due to basically going through menopause and feeling worthless, useless, and futureless.
I had been without hormones for a week and a half and my emotions were all over the place. Everything would set me off and I would cry and I was not in a good spot. So I wrote this thing to capture my feelings.
Without HRT I was losing track of time and my mental state, and every day was running into each other. I wanted to be kind to myself after my near-death experience but I also wanted to be productive. And everything felt the same as everything else.
I attempted to self-medicate my ongoing depression with some THC.
I may have used a little too much.
Hello, the Internet Hello, the Internet Hello, the Internet Hello, the Internet Hello, the Internet Hello, the Internet (Internet) Hello, the Internet (Internet) Hello, the INternet (INternet) Hello, the Internet (Internet) Hello, the Internet (Internet?) Hello, the Internet (Internet!) Hello, the Internet (Internet…) Hello
I had trouble sleeping due to the increasing pain, and this music wafted into my consciousness.
I was spending way, way too much time reading Twitter instead of doing anything productive. The senseless repetitive noise of everything around me was more than I could take.
This is a song about a pawn shop bunny
going around as if it’s made of money
trying to buy some milk and honey
but it doesn’t quite care.
Just a little introduction to the album.
I woke up barely able to breathe, and went to the hospital.
It was an embolism, from a DVT in my leg that threw off a clot.
I composed this track from a hospital bed, using GarageBand on my phone.
A little scrap I had lying around, which was begging for a fuller orchestration.
It seems like every album of mine these days needs at least one semi-algorithmically-generated weird-time-signature experimentation.
And Werner just wouldn’t shut the heck up while I made it so I decided to record him meowing.
Oh and there’s scissors for percussion.
The first song I wrote on this day was not very good, but then I was noodling around and came up with this better song. It made me think of a wood elf in a forest grove or something.
The lack of hormones was really starting to get to me. Constantly tired, constantly struggling to wake up in the morning, but this music project kept me going.
Shout out to the Cupcake Royale in Capitol Hill, Seattle, WA, and the restroom cooling fan that was making this really cool grinding noise.
(It has since been fixed.)
This day didn’t go so well, so I was looking forward to a better one.
feeling like drowning, no escape
Met up with some friends at a coffee shop, took up way too much table space while I composed this attempt at making something Lemon Jelly-esque.
I was feeling aimless from my recent health issues, and felt like nothing was going anywhere and nothing was worth doing anymore.
I decided to make some disorganized fun.
My leg was still hurting. Really, really bad. And I was starting to have a pain in my shoulder as well. The pain was getting to be unbearable. So I wrote this track that captured the agony I was in.
Just a little tune that popped into my head that morning.
Ga ga dabba gagabagada baga Da ba baga dadabagada bada Ba ba bada bagagabada baga Ya ba bada yabadabada baga Ba ba baga dababadaba bada Bum ba bada bagagabada bada
Bum bum bum, ba Bum bum bum, ba Bum bum bum, ba Bum bum bum, ba Dum ba bum, ba Dum ba bum, ba Dum bum bum, ba Dum bum bum
I took a little trip down to my platonic cuddle-buddy’s home and I composed this while lying on his lap. It was nice.
Back in the early days of Song Fight! there was an occasional contributor who entered under the name Mouth Reliant. I felt like doing a tribute to his style for some reason.
I didn’t have the energy to clean my home but I made a piano-and-cello tune to help me clean myself, at least.
Pachelbel’s Canon is the bane of every cellist’s existence.
Inspired by the name of the previous track, I decided to go on a spelling spree.
The notes of the musical scale can spell words.
Not very many, though.
dead cabbage dead cabbage dead-ead, dea bae d dead (dead) cabbage dead-ead, ea bae d dead cabbage dead cabbage dead
#CD #Novembeat #Soundtrack #Instrumental #Lyrical ]]>Throughout November 2016 I recorded one short song every day. Because why not.
I went downtown to buy me a stapler So I could put together a couple pieces of paper Office Depot was shutting down They had all the best deals in town For the low, low price of 27 bucks I got a bunch of stuff, who cares if it sucks Anyway I completed my task, it Is great they even let me keep the shopping basket
He actually said “proggy as fuck” but I didn’t want this song to get marked explicit on the streaming services.