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Spitfall Lyrics
1: INTRODUCING STAR
We saw you every day
With your hands on your crotch and so much to say
You went from bouncing toy cars with golden motors
To neon striped BMWs and a court of drugged up nodders and quoters
Namefucking fame on all photos, all cheered on and applauded by even richer promoters
Now when you're a star when you've reached this far and the world really knows who you are (really?)
You show off your six black Mercedeses and drink Cristal like they all do
And the poor outside your gates appall you
And the only hood you see is the one on your car
Do you even have a clue as to who you are?
Bro, I don't think so
I mean Mercedes! Man, what a stiff old dull fart's republican shit car
Sick of hearing you preach to the poor like before, only now you're a coward
Only letting TV through your door
Getting older, take a bow and just go
The rage on the stage getting colder like your hits on the chart
But then the talk shows can still get you hard
Doin' rhymes on your prime time fistfights and spittin' grime in the limelight like a star gets a chip off your shoulder
A boulder that rolls and rolls over and over and over
There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders
A violent long way to the top
The longer that you fought yourself up
The longer the spitfall
2:THUS QUOTE THE CRAVING
You're so fucking lost that with all of the costs
You still don't see that in reality
The one thing you fail to buy yourself is a personality
You're trapped in the mould of the rap
you sell but you're sold
I mean, can't believe that you're paying all the gold to some home decorator that hands you buckets of conformity
Seems you're losing your way together with your policy, man
Ending up with a new definition of poverty
It's a joke!
Like those you make in every video
to reach the kids with the dough
With every copied "aha yo" and worn out "bro"
Guess what we need is yet another clown who can feed our breed
With another look and hooker hook
Now when "bitch" in mundane you take the lead with "wassup ho"
And let TV blur your mouth once more just when we need in every store
Thus quote the craving "forever more!"
You're so right, a shiny knight on a white steed, truly a hero
Yeah, right! Fuck you!
Fuck you right down to the core!
You know what?
You're just another Parental Advisory bore
There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders
A violent long way to the top
The longer that you fought yourself up
The longer the spitfall...
When you're rapping your shit y'all
3: REDEFINING VOMATORIUM
Yo
I guess when you're that loaded you'd better empty the barrel
Every chance you get, is that so?
Empty your word and pose magazine
in magazine after magazine
Let every sho go let the shit flow
'Cause the show must go on and on and on - You're it, bro!
But it's sad to know that when your star implodes
All that shit hits the fans just like your words back when you shone
But it's late in the game trapped in repeating your name again and again
Like you're scared we'll forget it
Can't blame you! Apart from that name you're all embarrassingly the same
It's so lame - can't you get it?
And perhaps you are right in that fear more sane than you are in your self deploring cock obsessive "koks delirium"
But I say to me you just redefine the old roman's vomatorium
There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders
A violent long way to the top
The longer that you claim that you have fought yourself up
The longer the spitfall...
4: MAN OF THE MASSES
You're a man of the masses
Took all of the classes, their asses from yours
All those boreds who are paying the bills for your palace uphills
And your pills that will help you proceed
in your greed
You are free of the chains that you need on your fans to adore you, to keel down before you
More precious to you than your brains and your hands, they live for you
If you ocould just see this old tree, this patriarchic heirarchy, up where you want to be
You need miles of roots to like your boots, don't you see?
You're a man of the masses
You need all of those asses, their fate to relater to the on that you were
Do you know who you were? Who you are?
Not the one in your words that they buy
They concur, you conquer
Though a natural flunker and you need them to stay, not to fly
To obey like the dogs that they are
The cogs under the hood of your Mercedes car
They will pay for your trip to the stiff upper lip
You're a man of the masses
Your trip is a journey through classes
You are high, they are low and you need it to be so
See, without them you're be nothing more than before
And you know that's not much it is just or unjust such:
Just a sad little man with a hand on his crotch
There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders
A violent long way to the top
The longer that you fought yourself up
The longer the spitfall...
The longer the spitfalls...
When you're rappin' your shit y'all
5:YO
You're just another Parental Advisory sticker surfing beach boy
Yo
With your hands on your crotch and so much to say
You went from bouncing toy cars with golden motors
To neon striped BMWs and a court of drugged up nodders and quoters
Namefucking fame on all photos, all cheered on and applauded by even richer promoters
Now when you're a star when you've reached this far and the world really knows who you are (really?)
You show off your six black Mercedeses and drink Cristal like they all do
And the poor outside your gates appall you
And the only hood you see is the one on your car
Do you even have a clue as to who you are?
Bro, I don't think so
I mean Mercedes! Man, what a stiff old dull fart's republican shit car
Sick of hearing you preach to the poor like before, only now you're a coward
Only letting TV through your door
Getting older, take a bow and just go
The rage on the stage getting colder like your hits on the chart
But then the talk shows can still get you hard
Doin' rhymes on your prime time fistfights and spittin' grime in the limelight like a star gets a chip off your shoulder
A boulder that rolls and rolls over and over and over
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders
A violent long way to the top
The longer that you fought yourself up
The longer the spitfall
You still don't see that in reality
The one thing you fail to buy yourself is a personality
You're trapped in the mould of the rap
you sell but you're sold
I mean, can't believe that you're paying all the gold to some home decorator that hands you buckets of conformity
Seems you're losing your way together with your policy, man
Ending up with a new definition of poverty
It's a joke!
Like those you make in every video
to reach the kids with the dough
With every copied "aha yo" and worn out "bro"
Guess what we need is yet another clown who can feed our breed
With another look and hooker hook
Now when "bitch" in mundane you take the lead with "wassup ho"
And let TV blur your mouth once more just when we need in every store
Thus quote the craving "forever more!"
You're so right, a shiny knight on a white steed, truly a hero
Yeah, right! Fuck you!
Fuck you right down to the core!
You know what?
You're just another Parental Advisory bore
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders
A violent long way to the top
The longer that you fought yourself up
The longer the spitfall...
Every chance you get, is that so?
Empty your word and pose magazine
in magazine after magazine
Let every sho go let the shit flow
'Cause the show must go on and on and on - You're it, bro!
But it's sad to know that when your star implodes
All that shit hits the fans just like your words back when you shone
But it's late in the game trapped in repeating your name again and again
Like you're scared we'll forget it
Can't blame you! Apart from that name you're all embarrassingly the same
It's so lame - can't you get it?
And perhaps you are right in that fear more sane than you are in your self deploring cock obsessive "koks delirium"
But I say to me you just redefine the old roman's vomatorium
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders
A violent long way to the top
The longer that you claim that you have fought yourself up
The longer the spitfall...
Took all of the classes, their asses from yours
All those boreds who are paying the bills for your palace uphills
And your pills that will help you proceed
in your greed
You are free of the chains that you need on your fans to adore you, to keel down before you
More precious to you than your brains and your hands, they live for you
If you ocould just see this old tree, this patriarchic heirarchy, up where you want to be
You need miles of roots to like your boots, don't you see?
You're a man of the masses
You need all of those asses, their fate to relater to the on that you were
Do you know who you were? Who you are?
Not the one in your words that they buy
They concur, you conquer
Though a natural flunker and you need them to stay, not to fly
To obey like the dogs that they are
The cogs under the hood of your Mercedes car
They will pay for your trip to the stiff upper lip
You're a man of the masses
Your trip is a journey through classes
You are high, they are low and you need it to be so
See, without them you're be nothing more than before
And you know that's not much it is just or unjust such:
Just a sad little man with a hand on his crotch
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders
A violent long way to the top
The longer that you fought yourself up
The longer the spitfall...
Yo
Add your song meanings, interpretations, facts, memories & more to the community.
The intent of this song is blatently obvious. Pain of salvation makes their observations and critique on rap culture, the inherent hypocricy, egotist, and bullshit. A good song taking a look at what a lot of corporate rap artist culture and negatives.
Thus quote the craving "forever more!" .. Sounds much alike Edgar Allan Poe's "the raven", and the line Quoth the raven "Nevermore." .. Might seem to be a complicated connecion, but still..
As you guys said, this song is pretty obvious, but it's done in a great way. Most basically, I love the irony: The song IS a rap song, and it's about the rap and hip-hop scene. So they wrote a rap song 100 times better to show how bullshit it is.
I'm interested in what they mean by "Redefining Vomitorium" (its spelled wrong in the lyrics). A vomitorium is a crowd exitway in a Roman amphitheater, but it's obviously used symbolically here... Like, how hip hop artists just come in and out of the mainstream?
Woah... ricbass78... Check your facts...
A vomitorium is the place where the Romans went when their stomach was full. There a handsome male eunuch, most often of African origin used a feather from a peacock's tail, tickling their soft palate to make them vomit, so they could go back to the party and eat even more. It is the symbol of the corruption and hedonism of the late Roman Empire. Here it is used as a way to mock the hedonistic lifestyle of most so-called artists, not only hip-hop MCs.
You may have your own opinion, but this song is most definitely NOT a hundred times better than a rap(really... a rap song... what a silly idea... you don't sing rap. It's a rhythmical declamation, not singing). If you knew anything about rap and hip-hop, you wouldn't be so fast to judge them. I agree. It is a good diss, or if you don't know what that is... a roast. It is however unspecific. The dissing party, here PoS, doesn't say who they're attacking, so there's no need to fight back. Guess, after a deeper look, there may be a hint of attacking Eminem, but I'm not sure about that.
I'm not dissing (disrespecting) Daniel. I like PoS, and he does have a good rap flow. Plus, he has some skills with wordplay (personal favorite - shit hits the fans).
And finally:
Or, to dumb it down a few notches, cause it looks like you need that, irony is when you mean one thing, but you say something completely different, sometimes opposite to what you really mean, showing your real meaning only through how you say it.
I'm a bit late to the party, but that is NOT what a vomitorium is. That's just a myth, started who knows when. It really is just an exit out of a theater or a stadium. You could've taken the time to google that instead of the word "irony".
I'm a bit late to the party, but that is NOT what a vomitorium is. That's just a myth, started who knows when. It really is just an exit out of a theater or a stadium. You could've taken the time to google that instead of the word "irony".