the rising tied to me
riding the afternoon train / headfull of Shinoda burrowing
into my subconscious / runaway thoughts and emotions
/ frenzied scribbles = my humble thoughts so far ...
*read more HERE after the jump*
:: Fort Minor on The Rising Tied ::
it ain't about kickin' it. it ain't about da blingbling. it ain't about the 'hoes. it ain't about the gangsta-bruddahs ... it's about "life" and a man that's lived and am living it still ... sometimes commentator, most times story-teller, with words and rhymed emotions streaming violently and earnestly out of thy mind and mouth, up close and in your face without the spittle and you'd go along with the ride that is Mike Shinoda's headtrip - reminiscing with clear images of his words formed in thy mindscape - with the subtle glaring irony that what i view within my mind's eye is/are but memories of what i've only seen on the idiot-box and silver screen. for i have not cruised down thy boulevard, if only in my celluloid dreams - a testament to Shinoda's words and music; a journey of a man's life, laid bare to share and i relish the opportunity. with each gripe, each slight, each indignation, each memory, each story; we ride alongside Shinoda, like a buddy would do and we've got his back.
:: The Story + Commentary Of The Rising Tied ::
:: remember the name :: life-lessons accusations observations and frustrations. *50% pain / and 100% reason to remember the name*
:: right now :: questions and assumptions. the life and times of another other than you ... how is your life right now?
:: petrified :: travelling down the highway of fears head thumpin' knowingly. ya do what ya gotta do and so do i.
:: feel like home :: should've / could've / would've. had / bad / sad. what could have been "life".
:: where'd you go :: *some days i feel like shit / somedays i wanna quit / and just be normal for a bit // where'd you go / i miss you so / seems like it's been forever that you've been gone / please come back home*
:: in stereo :: image: cruising the neighborhood, boppin' in Mike's tank-cruiser, flame-thrower in hand.
:: back home :: wah-wah-whisperin'-wails pleading for the law of the streets back home.
:: cigarettes :: reality offer no lies except those that you wallow in. suck it up, boye.
:: believe me :: disclaimer-city. dun say i didn't tell ya.
:: get me gone :: *maybe you should play the keyboards?* - shit me not mediafuckers. never again.
:: high road :: not gonna tell ya i told ya so. fuck-off.
:: kenji :: a story of a man's life decided not by fate, but by his fellow man and the wretched hearts of man's fears. acknowledge thy existence and responsibilities. grips your guilt by the jugular.
:: red to black :: lament for a friend's life. *he's dying to get away / let the pain of yesterday / go slipping thru the cracks / hiding himself away / watching all the memories fade away / from red to black*
:: slip out back :: *forget perfect / i'm trying not be worthless // even heroes know when to be scared // and i'm no hero / but don't think i didn't care.*
all lyrics (c) Mike Shinoda @ Fort Minor 2005
into my subconscious / runaway thoughts and emotions
/ frenzied scribbles = my humble thoughts so far ...
*read more HERE after the jump*
:: Fort Minor on The Rising Tied ::
it ain't about kickin' it. it ain't about da blingbling. it ain't about the 'hoes. it ain't about the gangsta-bruddahs ... it's about "life" and a man that's lived and am living it still ... sometimes commentator, most times story-teller, with words and rhymed emotions streaming violently and earnestly out of thy mind and mouth, up close and in your face without the spittle and you'd go along with the ride that is Mike Shinoda's headtrip - reminiscing with clear images of his words formed in thy mindscape - with the subtle glaring irony that what i view within my mind's eye is/are but memories of what i've only seen on the idiot-box and silver screen. for i have not cruised down thy boulevard, if only in my celluloid dreams - a testament to Shinoda's words and music; a journey of a man's life, laid bare to share and i relish the opportunity. with each gripe, each slight, each indignation, each memory, each story; we ride alongside Shinoda, like a buddy would do and we've got his back.
:: The Story + Commentary Of The Rising Tied ::
:: remember the name :: life-lessons accusations observations and frustrations. *50% pain / and 100% reason to remember the name*
:: right now :: questions and assumptions. the life and times of another other than you ... how is your life right now?
:: petrified :: travelling down the highway of fears head thumpin' knowingly. ya do what ya gotta do and so do i.
:: feel like home :: should've / could've / would've. had / bad / sad. what could have been "life".
:: where'd you go :: *some days i feel like shit / somedays i wanna quit / and just be normal for a bit // where'd you go / i miss you so / seems like it's been forever that you've been gone / please come back home*
:: in stereo :: image: cruising the neighborhood, boppin' in Mike's tank-cruiser, flame-thrower in hand.
:: back home :: wah-wah-whisperin'-wails pleading for the law of the streets back home.
:: cigarettes :: reality offer no lies except those that you wallow in. suck it up, boye.
:: believe me :: disclaimer-city. dun say i didn't tell ya.
:: get me gone :: *maybe you should play the keyboards?* - shit me not mediafuckers. never again.
:: high road :: not gonna tell ya i told ya so. fuck-off.
:: kenji :: a story of a man's life decided not by fate, but by his fellow man and the wretched hearts of man's fears. acknowledge thy existence and responsibilities. grips your guilt by the jugular.
:: red to black :: lament for a friend's life. *he's dying to get away / let the pain of yesterday / go slipping thru the cracks / hiding himself away / watching all the memories fade away / from red to black*
:: slip out back :: *forget perfect / i'm trying not be worthless // even heroes know when to be scared // and i'm no hero / but don't think i didn't care.*
all lyrics (c) Mike Shinoda @ Fort Minor 2005
