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moving violation / 1

by Bean Carrots

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1.
On Your Feet 03:42
I got that nomadic static on my toe tip. Tripping tales slipping like chippendale's on an ice pick. And it's a trick. They say if the shoe fits, wear it. And it's apparent the shoe will fit anyone that tears it. So when you parent's swindle the same story of fabled youth. Tabled you, twisted the game of truth that labeled you. And if you knew, only the black, white, puerto-rican, jew or caribou would pick up a scholarship, it's a game of fools. So listen to all the elites. The move of your feet. A calculated step and repeat, of all you can eat. Forget about the future you seek. The future is bleak. They only want to fill up your seat the moment you speak. And I don't fit. Make me want to vomit at the thought of it just like a nirvana faked with two shakes of klonopin. How long's it been? Man this awake state is elaborate, I'd rather sit rolling the great lakes in carriages. But riding by the stride of my hip has it's advantages like sliding anywhere I reside, avoiding damages. Or how I manage to pack packages into passages while passersby give me an awkward eye over challenges. So just a quip, stoned alone on a slip, as I wait, erode the day when I paid for the comic strips. Used to creep around the corner and hit the page on the script. It's amazing how the day can switch from sunny to shit. I see the way the people play in streets. The police will avoid the beat The summer heat is indiscreet and counts the shells on your concrete. Take a seat. I'll let you ride in the back. Keep the shiver in my liver so I don't overreact. Took a stroll up to Humboldt, and down to the Square. Saw Salaam, jump off the bike and blow the smoke in the air. So here's the scoop: Shovel them back in. Don't let it back in. I see the mice in the middle with termites, I sleep with a rag in. Gimme the rice and the riddle with french fries I got from the JuRin. I got a hoe in the center with toe light, my pinkies been aching. But left alone, you'll see the pinky wasn't faking it. But now I'm shakin' and bakin' and making it up just like Salaam says, I got 'em. No time to wait, roll yo fate and take that walk. Leave no brick in the rain, just sidewalk chalk and train clatter. Window's shattered at my doorstep. Only way to measure the pain is burning forceps on a cold day. Jump with the fadeaway to the platform. If that format is extinct, I'll take the catwalk to the alleyway. Scaffolding chatter messages in my wake. Everyday you've been eviscerating the holidays. I could take the patience and replace with with a holograph, while you could cull a nation on complacency and scooby snacks, you fat pig. I've had enough of Drumpf and all of that, all I ever wanted was Obama on a yoga mat. A different view. Far and away from the one we knew. If we could picture light and sun rays we could avoid to the truth. Imprison you. Pulling a haze over your vision too. But not with that nation that pays you, it's time for different shoes.
2.
It was late at night but the image is alive. You went through the door and everybody smiled. That's alright, it was just another crowd. Do your dishes, feed the fishes, and the road will lead your oversights. But the road leaves you alone at night. Even when it's bright. Only peering eyes Schrödinger would have to find. You know the kind. The one that robs you blind, when they're given accusation they're the latter day of satanists. Ain't it sick? Go take your vacation Rick, don't worry about the kids. They'll be home just watching Asian flicks. Teaching them to read really was never your hypothesis, twisting up a lemon-lime, pinching and adulterous. Another whistle cracked, this time with the unconciousness. Oh, and take your common sense sprinkled on a sweater vest. Cheese! Picture up a perfect paradise and have it minted. Leave a lemon drop beside the door if you feel gifted. Nevermind a lift kit, you prefer sedans. With little yellow badges so we know that you're 'a man.' Another pay grade turns a Sammy to a Stan, but your kids at home alone just whacking off to Roseanne. I don't pretend to care about your friend. I don't pretend to see a vision to the end. I don't pretend to alienate an audience, when I'm given intuition I'll illuminate my senses. I don't pretend that socialism is a trend. I don't pretend I'm social if I'm in my head. I don't pretend at all 'cause fiction is a blend of inefficiency in conversation hesitant to send. I don't pretend to wear another face. I don't pretend to be another race. I don't pretend that the oppression is in place 'cause I see it in the daily news with lack of better taste. I don't pretend to see the difference in you. I don't pretend to see a different point of view. I don't pretend, even if I'm being rude. Well I'm only being honest so I hope it's coming through. True. I've never had a different point of view. Always focus on the facts even if I get the voodoo. Clear the cataract and visualize like I do. I can feel my third eye, pushing through my (RICK REMOVED) I told them tentacles Rick! Now put your dick away, the sight of it is making me sick! Pardon the interruption, Rick just had an outburst. Terse is the only way he ever learned to have his voice heard. Blurred from his endless life of pickled prosperity, never knew the meaning but repeated it in charity. Ah yes charity, the only saving grace. So take another lime, quantify, and save your face. Pardon me a second while I make an interruption, Rick is in the atmosphere clogging my combustion. Never knew another way of playing in my head. Dread, oh I rue the day he telephones in front of friends dead. Lie behind the socket where I keep decisions at, flat back when I'm looking back he's hidden in the rack. Motherfucker's screaming at the top of his lungs, tongue-tied he's fried up. I should know I had the lights on.
3.
Rahim Salaam: How foreign to the ear is the language of a queer, to a hip-hop sphere? Please pass my beer. I don't engage in fights of fits of revenge, yo. The world is too big you'll never see me again though. I got tricked by the kinfolk to think a gentleman was supposed to shoot through your window. Can't imagine what a killer was in for. Best of love so you live more and sin more. Give the babes in the back another one, let the poetry melt another gun. So curious. Take the shame from your lap and let it run get as high as it gets beyond the sun. So lit I failed to buy stock, lift weights, or play harp. My idiosyncrasies a big part. I can't compete with thieves they too smart. That curse and thirst for greed is too harsh. I'll accept your piece of cheese from my heart. Give respect to the highest degree 'cause you're large. If we make it to the forest, write another chorus, come back looking gorgeous, think the people can ignore us? Your mouth around the house. Could be a friend to my flagrance. I never ask for much but dude, oh, I do admire your patience. Bean: Bit by bit, breath by breath, they'll leave it on the counter screaming full of unrest. We cannot sleep. We will not rest. Leaving children in the street counting my steps. Bit by bit, breath by breath, they'll leave it on the counter screaming full of unrest. We cannot sleep. We will not rest. Leaving children in the street tugging your vest. I got a need to feed the bombastic, cataclysmic twist within the scholastic, gymnastic flows beside the split brain, my free reign ignites the hype like butane. My flood plain overflows with cowards like a mineral. My analytical syntax is too political for all that egotistical nonsense that you spew. Told you. Ice is so cold it cut your snow shoe. Leave you with a new preview to see through, and at last view a new forecast your used to. Now I know you're always coming back up on that hate shit. Meanwhile, my patience is admired by the sacred hearts to hold me back from bombing like a flak jacket. Withhold the whack racket. Serving on the scene. Frantic is the dream. Holy and supreme. All about the cream. Never about the crop, always drumming from the bloodstream. I see the fight within the floodlights, you hear the soundbites admonishing birthrights for anyone nonwhite, semite, Isrealite. No matter your bloodtype. Sunni or Shiite. We trap suburbanites encrypted terabytes. Image of gunfights surrounded by headlights. We hear the obscene, demeaned in smoke screens, between media routine, so fuck your paid leave. It's a travesty.
4.
5.
It was days like this. Lifted out, fit and twisted. Couching on the game. Vision blurred and listening to walls. Hear reverberation in the phase like a two-way, focused on the paint evaporation in the halls. Haven't seen another drip dropped since the boiler stopped. Only two weeks, three months until the fall. Angriest but patient on the blacktop, last time I stopped, got clipped, hesitation is a fault. Motherfuckers just don't stop round here. Nope. No pops, bang bang, now your barbeque's a loss. All I wanted was some mashed potatoes and cheese graters, but kids made us run now we're playing with the law. Damn. Leave it well enough alone. Daaaaaammmnn. Never leaving well enough alone. Take the next stop—wait stop—by the barbershop. I saw a cop, on the flop, he's a gutterjob. His feet move well... fucking hell. Turn on Monticello. Last time I got caught, just because I ran a yellow. No they don't stop. These fucking pigs. Ruining everyone's life for their kids. Watch a fat jock catch a cold cock jacking off a cop just to get a rock solid in his pants helping his hookshot. But now he's tracing on the kids to get his anger out. Lace it with a salary indemnifies his retarded mouth. And he's got a gun. But you don't want one. Probably wouldn't need it 'cause your bleeding on your couch. Damn. Thought we left well enough alone. Daaaaaaaaaaammmmmmnnnnnnnn. Never leaving us alone. Leave it well enough alone. (Leave it well enough alone.) Nothing happens, leave it well enough alone. (Nothing happens.) Yo, go home, leave it well enough alone. (Just go home.) Leave it alone, don't come back, go home. (Go home!) Leave it well enough alone. (Leave it alone!) Ain't gon' happen here, leave it all alone. (Everything is fine!) Go home, don't come back, go home. (Go home.) Go home, leave it well enough alone. (Go home.) Leave it well enough alone go home. (Don't come back.) Leave it well enough alone go home.

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Part One of a series.

All tracks written, produced, recorded, mixed and mastered by Ben Karas.
Photo by Natália Rios.

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released November 28, 2016

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Bean Carrots Chicago, Illinois

Hello.

I am Bean.

I play in Evasive Backflip, Glad Rags, Sex No Babies, Bash Bang, ONO and life.

This is myself.

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