Discussion in 'News' started by Derek, Jun 5, 2014.
This has got to be my favorite description. Creates such a vivid image. Lovely.
Joe. Wins. The. Internet.
The review is even better when you run it through Gizoogle
What ever happened to the hype of keys to the kingdom?
Keys ta tha Mackdaddydom
Ever wondered what tha fuck Robocop would sound like if he gots his cybernetic ding-a-ling stuck up in a waffle iron, biatch? Yo ass have, biatch? Good, cuz thatz exactly what tha fuck Chesta soundz like up in tha openin ta dis robo-metal dick smasher playa! (copyright: Tim) Packed wit a mo' fucked up structure than Quasimodoz spine, Keys ta tha Mackdaddydom is tha kind of cold lil' woo wop dat spreadz its hairy-ass legs n' fucks YOU. In multiple positions. Right up in tha ass. Mike rappin. Chorus. Mike rapping. What tha fuck, a funky-ass breakdown n' Mike harmonizin until tha end as tha track finally blows its waffle battered salty load right up in yo' face.
All fo' Nothing
Look tha fuck out, muthafuckas. Mike is mad salty fo' realz. Angry as fuck. I think, I don't give a fuck but he rappin bout playas sayin thangs dat they've fuckin holla'd before n' we all know how tha fuck much dat made Chesta mad salty back when da thug wore his wild lil' freakadelic grandmaz curtains as trousers. Page Hamilton make da most thugged-out Lyin From Yo ass soundin cold lil' woo wop on tha mixtape sound slightly different by rappin bout not bustin what tha fuck you demand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Chesta pipes up ta shout "you say!" durin Pagez lines like Robin backin up Bathustla up in a gangbangin' fight up in tha late 60z TV series. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis! I kind of wish Linkin Park demanded some boomboxes from tha playaaaaaa though just ta make dis cold lil' woo wop stand up a lil' bit more.
Guilty All tha Same
Hold tha fuck on ta yo' asses, ladies n' gentlemen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. It aint nuthin but time fo' tha hard shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Spread dem cheeks as you dig a funky-ass bunch of boomboxes take you on a trip dat you won't give a gangbangin' fuck bout once you've heard tha rest of tha mixtape. Guilty All tha Same make you feel like a passed up 68 year oldschool dude, lyin up in tha corner of a thugged-out dusty rock venue faded ta fuck whilst a funky-ass bunch of frat thugs piss all over yo' gameless body n' fuck up yo' most straight-up bangin Genesis on Tour '74 denim vest... whilst you attendin a Iron Maiden wit special guests Spineshank show up in 2014. Rakim is like tha motherfucker whoz ass comes up in ta fuck up tha muthafuckas pissin on you just so his schmoooove ass can take a massive shiznit on you as Iron Maiden play a cold lil' woo wop from they 2003 mixtape Dizzle of Dirtnap.
Want ta hear what tha fuck it soundz like havin Joe Hahn stumble ta his kitchen up in tha middle of tha night ta grab a funky-ass burrito whilst tha sound of Chesta Bennignton scratchin his balls repeatedly echoes from his home basement monitors, biatch? Yo ass have?! Then stay tha fuck tuned fo' dis interlude which will undoubtedly make you summon tha skip button on future listens.
Imagine Jizzy Rotten givin dome ta Jizzy Hetfield up in tha back of a garage bandz tourin van as it do 96mph up in tha wack lane on tha highway whilst tha Ramones' sickest fuckin single skits on tha radio. Just fuckin imagine dis shit. Now have Chesta hangin upside down on tha windshield, naked n' caked up on meth n' you 10% closer ta what tha fuck tha fuck is goin on up in War fo' realz. A fast paced, punk rock cold lil' woo wop dat soundz like dat shiznit was recorded via kazoo whilst neckin Jack Daniels, Battle is undoubtedly tha mixtapez most fuckin unexpected track. It aint nuthin but fun, fast, hard n' tha endin can only be busted lyrics bout as Chesta suicizzle divin off tha windshield onto a oncomin train whilst knockin up tha conductor wit his ding-a-ling mid-jump.
Da Huntin Partyz same oldschool shit, different dizzle song. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So standard it fuckin hurts yo, but still. Chesterz chorus is kinda catchy n' Mike mean mugs up tha fuckin verses so much dat fo' a second you might straight-up be thinkin you havin a gangbangin' fight on tha school field wit dat fat muthafucka whoz ass ate yo' sandwich dat one time. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Still, itz phat Da Huntin Jam gets rid of dis generic shiznit all up in tha start of tha mixtape n' tha phat thang bout Wastelandz is dat Battle probably inspired you ta go n' take snow white so you gonna probably miss it anyway.
Until It aint nuthin but Gone
Ever come ta tha conclusion dat you don't give a fuck what tha fuck you've gots until itz gone, biatch? No, biatch? Well fuck dat son! By tha end of dis cold lil' woo wop thatz all you gonna know. Repeatedly fo' realz. Another standard Linkin Park track thatz bout as carnivorous as tha fuckin baby from tha TV show Dinosaurs. But hey, dat baby was fuckin def so letz not drop a shiznit on dis cold lil' woo wop just yet. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some catchy verses make you stick round n' if you last until tha end you git ta hear Chesta nail home tha point dat you don't give a fuck what tha fuck you've gots until itz gone again n' again n' again whilst tha pimpin' muthafucka takin a piss on a electric fence.
System of a Down just drove a gangbangin' fuckin cement truck tha fuck into Mikez home studio yo, but thatz not cement up in tha back, no, itz a gangbangin' fuckin spinnin hole of dirtnap wit Daron Malakian fappin his boombox shaped ding-a-ling so hard itz ejaculatin dynamite n' rock-mechs whoz ass also happen ta be playin guitar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Rebellion don't give a gangbangin' fuck bout you or yo' ballistical stance, it cares bout fistin yo' ass wit a pneumatic drill made of Robz fucked up drumsticks whilst Chesta ticklez yo' balls wit a cold-ass lil cheese-grater n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some phat Mike vocals round up dis pit anthem n' tha only glock you gonna be facin by tha end is yo' own, n' I be rappin' bout tha one up in yo' pants, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Yo ass too ladies.
Mark tha Graves
Time ta take dis mixtape up a notch. Mark tha Graves be as experimenstrual as tha bandz haircuts back up in tha early days. Ever felt like every last muthafuckin thang is goin ta fuckin shiznit up in yo' game n' there be a not a god damn thang you can do but embrace it, biatch? Well, Mark tha Graves knows dat fuckin feel, bro fo' realz. A complete contrast up in sound propels dis cold lil' woo wop tha fuck into a git tha fuck outta mah grill wit dat bullshit intro of boombox before breakin down tha fuck into a ambient reflectivenizz where Chesta shows a shitload of his dopest vocals on tha mixtape. Da cold lil' woo wop jumps between hard n' soft mo' times than mah ding-a-ling browsin tha "bangin' dick" section on PornHub. Da cold lil' woo wop buildz n' buildz until Chesta is beatboxin tha chorus like a shark is givin his ass da most thugged-out toothy blowjob up in existence, all whilst Brad rips up a gangbangin' grill melter so fuckin bangin you gonna use tha piecez of Chesterz fragmented bellend as ear muffs. Easily a mixtape highlight fo' hustlaz of tha bandz mo' creatizzle work n' a endin dat will probably make you mark yo' baggy-ass pants mo' than any graves, dis is goin ta be a gangbangin' most straight-up bangin fo' many.
Fan of Rage Against tha Machine, biatch? Tough shit. Therez fuck all here but a funky-ass bunch of piano keys n' tha sound of a microwave defrostin a gangbangin' frozen pizzy up in tha background. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Acts mo' as down time afta tha epic close ta Mark tha Graves, so it do tha thang yo, but if you wanted ta hear Tomothy Mo'llo rip up a funky-ass badass riff, keep fuckin strutting.
If you didn't fall asleep durin Drawbar you welcomed wit tha mixtapez inevitable slow / soft track. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sweepin boomboxes n' arguably Chesterz dopest vocal performizzle on Da Huntin Party, Final Masquerade is dat fuckin tune you gonna dig as you strutt ta tha nearest cliff-edge up in tha drizzle afta yo' partner broke up in yo' faaaaaace biaaatch! This 80's-esque juice ballad is ghon be tha cold lil' woo wop you gonna peep playas subtweetin lyrics from up in response ta they failed relationshizzles. I shiznit you not, dis even features a funky-ass bridge wit a boombox breakdown, which then slows down ta have only Chesta rappin, before kickin back up in again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Just like every last muthafuckin other cold lil' woo wop bout gangbangin one of mah thugs whoz ass don't ludd you eva made.
A Line up in tha Sand
Ever wanted ta be chillin up in a post apocalyptic bathroom as Mike drops a thugged-out deuce n' sings ta his dirty ass, biatch? Yo ass have?! Well then, A Line up in tha Sand is fo' you, nahmean biiiatch, biatch? Da mixtapez closer don't fuck round right off tha bat. Yo ass know shiznit is gettin serious, n' I ain't rappin' bout tha loaf Mike just pitched up in stall 2. Da epic feelin is here as tha vocals reflect on every last muthafuckin thang we've heard up in tha mixtape so far. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. It aint nuthin but tha end, n' we fuckin wit dat shit. Boomboxes fuckin crash all up in tha ceilin n' keep on falling. Chesta starts ta harmonise wit Mike up in tha second verse before he finally overpowers his ass n' transitions ta tha chorus. That was pretty fuckin def fo' realz. After Mikez wordplay on tha bridge we is back ta mo' crunchin boomboxez of dirtnap dat keep on going. I lost fuckin count of tha amount of times they chizzled up tha boombox parts here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Brad rips up another solo as Chesta screams ta a gangbangin' finish on tha Metallica-esque poundin wall of noise n' then fuck, we fadin back up in ta Mike up in tha bathroom yo. Dude sings our asses outta tha track as our slick asses left up in tha wake of tha destruction they just fuckin smashed tha fuck into our faces, n' believe me, despite Mike loggin it up on tha shitter, dis mixtape be anythang but dis shit. Da shiznit be a metaphor fo' tha one you gonna have up in yo' baggy-ass pants afta hearin dis cold lil' woo wop close tha mixtape, n' how tha fuck you gonna wanna go back n' dig Da Huntin Jam again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Solid fuckin stuff.
Derek Imma let you finish, but Joe had one of the best album reviews of ALL TIME.
This is why I voted Joe for Best Member.
And there's actually some new description in that post.
Fucking hell Joe, that was fantastic
Greatest post I have ever read on the LPA. Well done, Joe, now do a podcast where you read this for us. Thanks.
Agreed. There needs to be a fuckin' audio version of Joe's review.
Shut up and take my money! Give me my ticket to ride the chocho-mofo hype train!
Man, if ever the chain gang had to reunite and just say what Joe wrote.
That was incredible.
post apocalyptic bathroom lol
The Chain Gang lives on.
Joe, you fucking genius.
Well this goes does in history as one of the safest reviews ever written....I feel like you want to keep your early access listening party card rather than give a true review.
First, the Gizoogle translation appeared and was quite funny! Then, Joe's over-the-top, ballsy "review" surfaced and was absolutely hilarious! Imagine if the majority of reviews given for any music release were structured this way. I think the music industry would be A LOT more interesting!
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