Verbal Chicanery

by SouthPawRacer

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about

SouthPawRacer's debut full release! A bunch of raps about sim racing (and other stuff too). 11 tracks of attempted humour and vague references await you. Name your price - but donations would be nice.

credits

released March 2, 2017

Rhys Gardiner, AKA SouthPawRacer:
Lyrics, composition, programming, production, vocals, album art

Jimmy Broadbent:
Additional vocals on Track 6

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Rhys Gardiner Perth, Australia

contact / help

Contact Rhys Gardiner

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: Intro
Welcome to the show

I’m SouthPawRacer and I make videos on YouTube
Mostly dealing with sim racing and a couple of other things that I do
And in the past I’ve been adventurous, and attempted to be humourous
By making comedy hip hop that would only be understood by a select few

Well I’ve made this compilation, that contains a few of my past creations
Plus some new tracks that have left my brain destroyed
So this is Verbal Chicanery, is it an album or an EP?
I don’t fucking know, but listen and enjoy

Listen and enjoy
Track Name: Everybody Look
Everybody look at my hotlap
Thought I’d just measure my dick, cause I think it’s pretty quick
I recorded it with my camera phone
What the fuck is FRAPS? I’m too busy doing laps for this

I reckon that I’m pretty pro
GT Academy calling, all these laptimes falling
So why you making hurtful comments on my post, you arse?
I can make that pass and leave you spinning in the grass

Trail brake, get that rear to rotate
Right foot down accelerate, trying to split my delta gotta educate
These bitches that hitch along but they’re doing it all wrong
The most important thing is the size of your internet dong

Yeah, I race a lot and I’m kind of professional
Keep my iRating nice and low to ensure it’s processional
And in other sims I choose leagues with 8-car fields
Cross the line a lap ahead and make the peasants kneel

I’m so fuckin’ good, I give myself wood
I’m winning titles all over the place so bow down like you should
Just don’t ask me to race in big broadcasted shit
I ain’t got time for that, it’s not like I’d be losing sleep over it

Those pro drivers can suck it, I’d make them sweat buckets
If I wanted to, but I’ve got my own success, so fuck it
Now go away, I’m busy making a press release
With grid girls pasted in beside my car, it’s a masterpiece
Track Name: Running Default
Public servers, yes, I am that bored
The sim racing equivalent of falling on a sword
But I feel like a little bit of harmless fun
First turn taken out, then on to the next one

But I’m still a bit rusty
Might as well practice and get a bit comfy
Jump on a server, default settings
No reason for a setup with the places I’m getting

So I up the steering lock, adjust my driving socks
Exit the pits and go set some laps
And after some testing on multiple tracks
Yeah the default setup is fine, perhaps

A guy jumps in, drives very slowly
Four seconds off, probably learning, fine by me
But then I find the delightful chap
Has seen my fastest lap

Because as I look in the mirrors to check where I’ve been
I look down at the chat at the bottom left of the screen
From the guy so slow he’s parked:
“[My Name],” followed by “Setup [question mark]?”

Damn, I think to myself,
I gotta break it to him, my setup’s off the shelf
So I pull off, brake and come to a halt
Press T and write “Sorry, I’m running default”

“LOL, BS” is what I get back
“There’s no way you’re that quick without a setup hack
I know you’re exploiting a physics glitch
And I’ve got the itch, so give me your setup bitch”

Wow, such verbal acid
No need to be that savage
And at best my pace ain’t rapid
It’s in that no man’s land between kinda quick and average

And I don’t have a setup, I’m driving for the fun of it
I tell him as much, but he’s having none of it
He says “My alarm bells are ringing
You can’t drive that fast without spinning”

Oh, for fuck’s sake
I’ve seen some idiots mate, but you take the cake
If anything, I’m flattered that you think I’m fast
But I guess I am, compared to you, who’d be dead last

You’re four seconds slower
A setup alone won’t make the deficit lower
And I’m not saying a good setup never works
But you gotta be a semi-decent driver first

At least that’s what I would have said
Having thought about it in the shower later, but instead
I said “Dude, I don’t have proof
But you gotta trust me, I’m telling you the truth”

“Well fuck you, then,” he typed bitterly
Unaware of the absurdity of the shit he just said to me
While we were bickering another guy entered
And then upon him my attention was centred

As he ran a time nine tenths faster than me
“Ha,” I typed into the chat box, “now you see?”
And pretty soon my aggressor’s name
Was accompanied by three words: “left the game.”
Track Name: Lights Out
Wonder why, on a manual formation lap
Tension’s always off tap, keeping an eye on the track map
Clean start or bust, a wary mind is a must
How many blokes around me can I trust?

(Fucking no one)

Two by two, lining up as you do
But somebody stopped a bit short, hey bitch, get a clue
I did a burnout pulling up to my spot
Tyres are just sitting static, I'm in no mood to play hot or not

They got their shit together, now I pose the question whether
Turn 1 will be clean or if I'll end up getting my head severed
Two possibilities: we get through with some minor hits
Or we end up dealing with some apocalyptic type shit

You know, your typical online racing growing pains
Not so much “Fallout” as “There Will Come Soft Rains”
But even to Bradbury we'd be taking the piss
We'd need to get R. R. Martin on board to ghost write this

I mean, I should be chilling, making a killing
Heart rate shoots up, ain't exactly thrilling
Remind myself it's just a bunch of shaded polygons
And then the lights come on

Shit

As the kids these days say it's getting fuckin' lit
Five times horizontally, to be clear about it
Just keep it cool like the engine temp, keep that diminished
And I won't smoke it when the lights are finally extinguished

Lights out and away we go
Less wheelspin, do a Picard and make it so
I flow through the gears, blood sweat and tears, slow car appears
My worst fears, swerving with my front just avoiding his rear

Control my inputs as I follow the pole sitter
I take avoiding action but I keep it out the kitty litter
Haven't made contact with anybody just yet
But that depends on how bad my connection gets

It's like trying to control a hyperactive kid
The SCP Foundation has it classed as “Euclid”
But it'll be over soon, darkness before the dawn
That is unless the guy beside me doesn't care to withdraw

Uhhh

He's creeping over with no spacial awareness
And in the braking zone he shifts side to side rather careless
Drilling into my peripheral despite it being costly
And that's when you lost me, motherfucker trying to cross me

I'm getting jostled, mashed up like a potato
And I get rear ended so hard just call me Jason Plato
I'll correct a bit, turn in, it's a tight fit
Apex is beckoning but some cunt behind me goes and kamikazes it

Ouch

Thanks you chucklefuck
Now I'm in the gravel trap and in a wall I am stuck
What is the reason I so violently left the road?
Look at the replay, rewind a bit, fucking netcode
Track Name: Soon I'll Be Pro
I’m working out, honey - don’t laugh, it isn’t funny
I’m training hard for my future career of sim racing for lots of money
I’ve quit my job and I’ve taken a loan
I’ve sold our fridge and our oven, and also mortgaged our home

Ch-check it out, see this rig? It’s what real racing teams use
To test their drivers and search for some engineering clues
I’m still kind of a novice, I’ve never done this before
But with professional equipment I will wipe the floor

You see

I hope that I can join a powerhouse team
And work my way up to champion of the DWC
Wh-what’s that? What did you say? How are we gonna eat?
Sit tight my love, soon the dough will roll in when I’m with sim racing’s elite

Drive to impress - yes, that is your wedding dress out on the lawn, but then
It’s not like you’re going to use it again
Unlike this five grand wheel and six axis motion rig
No time for entry level normies, gotta start out big

I took a photo and I posted it to reddit, but they don’t seem to get it
They just won’t give me credit, “You’re insane” - they said it
Apparently I’ve got the wrong FOV
What’s that supposed to mean? Are they just trolling me?

I’m rolling out all the changes to my lifestyle
Practice 8 hours a day then put my thermals on and run for 20 miles
This is a new life, new day, new me
Don’t look at me like that, soon I’ll be pro, you’ll see

Racing is life, anything before or after is just waiting
So screw the plans for a family, there’s no time for procreating
I’m a rising star, I’m sure I will go far
Once I find out more about the types of cars there are

I’m feeling great honey, yes I spent tons of money
But lots of people go without to make their future just a bit more sunny
Starting today, there is no more rest
I have started from the bottom to become the best

So what’s for dinner tonight? I think it’s your turn to cook
We’ll get that started while I read this driving techniques book
Oh wait, there’s no oven or fridge - oh well, that’s okay
We’ll just get takeout - hey honey, why are you walking away?
Track Name: Online Presence
I read your fan fiction and your diction got a good rating
But then I saw your fanart of your OCs copulating
Jet black hair, red and white streaks, so unpleasant
But you're oh so mature because you listen to Evanescence

I won't wake you up inside, I'd try but I'm too terrified
Of what I might find in that mind that is so unkind
Your online presence sets a bad precedence
This room is full of elephants, let's look at the evidence

Your tumblr's full of nude selfies, cause that's healthy
Screaming at extreme conservatives, few bats loose in the belfry
You spew out hate, only to make a deposit
In your spank bank, those skeletons like it in that closet

Another point on the scale, fedora-wearing and pale
As strangers joke about his virginity being on sale
Special offer! Discount price for girls who don't fear
An enlightened atheist who is intellectually superior

M'lady, such unfettered beauty
How could the dirt of the earth produce such a precious glittering shard?
Oh and theres also the fact that you make my dick rock hard
Why dont we go on a date, if not then I'll just masturbate
At home in the dark under the covers, crying like a bitch
Wallowing in wilting self pity, I've got an itch
That has to be scratched but it comes with a catch
It’s the fact that you won't date NICE GUYS LIKE ME EEREEREGEH

Alt-Right, Ctrl-Left, abuse dissenters
Won’t be surprised if there’s emergence of the Shift-Centre
“It’s a time of revolution”
You text to your ignorant friends as you hold up your sign, “Fuck the institution”

Except you’re a part of this, virtue-signalling your brains out
Speaking in buzzwords, content to just shout
About your personal brand of toughness or justice
Well you’re in with some crowd, you can bask in your righteousness

“Stick it to the man,” you say
Behind a smartphone screen you stay

And while I’m at it, screw these pictures of our cats and vintage-filtered food
“Music was better in the 90s, I’m a cool dude”
Fucking embarrassing but I can’t look away
It’s everywhere, assaulting my senses every single day

Let’s be real, it’s quite depressing at worst
But you gotta admit, all you can do is laugh at first
That there are people like that out there ain't a fact to be treasured
But results in entertainment that's impossible to measure

Guilty pleasure so disgusting but it doesn't matter
It's like a double quarter pounder on a silver platter
Track Name: Drive-Thru Messiah
(Packed with grease)
(Chicken on a brioche bun)
(Secret herbs and spices)
(I'll put some pickles on it)
(Extra bacon and cheese)
(Ma-Mayonnaise)
(Little squirt of Sriracha)

Mmm, in the wee hours I get peckish it's true
But what to do? My fridge is saying “screw you”
There's a problem with it that I've been having for years
No matter how much I open and close it, nothing new appears

I got some change, a bit of a range to choose
From heart-attack establishments, nothing left to lose
Feeling in the mood for some greasy food, I’m not deluded
I got a craving for a burger, fries included

My stomach’s trying to egg me on, flutter like un papillon
Over to my car keys, picking up a coupon
Step outside, make sure my door’s locked
But if I come back to find my place ransacked, I won’t be shocked

My neighbourhood security isn’t fab
I got a sneaking suspicion the house across from me’s a drug lab
I’m saying nothing, but this late at night
When even the cops speed up as they pass by, something ain’t right

Trekking to the other end of town
Passing by some shady characters, getting me down
I drive on with the promises of sustenance anew
Feeling of elation, destination coming into view

MACCA'S DRIVE-THRU, YOU KNOW THE WAY TO MY HEART
AIN'T NOTHING EVER GONNA TEAR US APART
AND WHEN IT'S LATE AND THERE'S NOTHING TO EAT
I GOT YOU, BUT THERE'S A LINE STRETCHING ONTO THE STREET

Fuck, it’s backed up, how dare you interrupt
My late night journey to the centre of a chip cup
What’s going on? Given bad directions?
A missed connection? A bogan wedding reception?

Does it even matter? Zone out for a spell on the cusp of hell
Idling exhaust fumes, how fucking swell
Finally I crawl forward to the speaker box
And ponder whether in there they have any clocks

“Place your order when you’re ready,” she says - fuckin’ oath
I was born ready, but you bloody stunted my growth
“Hi, I got a coupon here for a large meal”
Confirmed, paid for, the contract is blood-sealed

So now I wait, and stew in my self-hate
There’s plenty better things you could have spent your money on, mate
But it’s okay, soon I’ll be eating and I’ll forget all about it
Except my perception of time is getting clouded

High beams on, they're taking too long to feed us
shine my light on everyone and I feel like Jesus
Drive-thru messiah, I'm gonna bring the fire
to these night shift chefs, to whom I now enquire

where's my sesame seed bun and ground up animal flesh
and manufactured cheese product with pickles so not fresh
I’m paying y’all for consistent mediocrity
Instead I’ve got the short end of your scheduling anomalies

Some movement in the queue would sure be nice
I’ve been waiting so long I’ve been reincarnated twice
I’ve had patrons yelling at me to dip my lights
And I’ve been witness to a couple of in car cage fights

At long last I’m passed my paper bag
Do a Gillard and move forward down the main drag
Got my midnight snack, but in my mirror reflected, the morning nexus
Sunrise - I guess this is breakfast
Track Name: Rag Top
[Muscle Car]

Pulling up to the track in my American muscle
Respect my hustle
Busting speed traps left right and centre
More than you’ll do in the car that you’ve entered

Mazda MX-5? Get Miata here (heh)
I’ll be half way down the straight before you’re out of second gear
Metrosexual with tiny testicles
Torque and power more than you will find digestible

When you’ve finished being in awe of all the shit I’ve won
Can you tell my bitches where you get your hair done?
I’m still tired from when me and your lady banged
On the hood of my Shelby Mustang

And when the girls see me in my vette, sploosh
Now the floor’s all wet
So I need a mop, and when the flag’s dropped
You’ll do, fuckin’ rag top

[MX-5]

Yeah, wanna go, cunt?

We’ll see what happens when you get to a turn
Tight line to the apex, I’m gonna learn ya
While you corner like a cruise ship
Cause all that power ain’t no compensation for some basic driving tips

I got that mid corner rotation
And I get more out of that than any aural masturbation
And what’s the mileage like on that thing?
Bet the place you get your fuel from is all like “cha-ching”

Hey, I got abilities
Meanwhile you’re covering for phallic insecurities
Multiple partners, I don’t really need them
But when I drive on the street, at least people can see them

Yeah your engine ain’t stock, mine neither
I got your draft if I wanna take a breather
But when we hit the brakes, inside I’ll snap
And you’ll understeer off into the gravel trap

[Muscle Car and MX-5]

It’s a race, we’re running out of grace in our headspace
Got a little bit of egg on our faces
When things get a bit risky in the twisties
Side by side getting a tiny bit dizzy

My piece of road, my apex
Turn in and see what happens next
Ow, That was your fault, no it was yours
I CAN’T COMPREHEND MY OWN INHERENT FLAWS

[Commentators]

Hmmm, meanwhile, back at the front
Crossing the line: people who don’t feel the need to shunt
Race over, time to go home
But for grandstand 2A, you still got a hell of a show

Those two fuckwits in a fistfight
Neither of them are really in the right
It’s dumb how they think putting each other’s cars down
Makes them look like anything other than clowns

Ooh, look at that uppercut
Well, I gotta say Tom, fuck those pricks

"Yeah I agree Daryl, ya know, it’s really stupid
They’ve been hanging shit on each other all weekend, and we’re all pretty sick of it
I hope they put each other in the fuckin’ hospital"
Track Name: Generic Food Rap
My beat is slow because slow food is the in thing right now
Fire up the grill, cook half a cow, butter-basted, let me show you how
Gonna slide into the kitchen, prepare to be dazzled, tomato mozzarella basil
With a bit of balsamic vinegar to top it off, Caprese salad, no more eating out the trough

I slice that prime rib nice and thick, cook a chook just right so you don’t get sick
And I’m playing all sorts of tricks on Trichinella - I source my pork from a reputable seller (yup)
No well-done steak up in this bitch, pulling off one-thirty-five Fahrenheit without a hitch
I’ve got the toys to prepare good oysters, it’s superstition but they could make you moist, uhhh

Bring that plate a little bit closer
So I can jump on that Capricciosa
I’ve been waiting too long for my meal
I’m starting to feel like it’s a real big deal

Roasting under oven lights
It’s alright, I’ll turn on the broiler
And I’ll serve it up hot, and seasoned nice
With plenty of spice; I also fry all my hot chips twice

Uh-huh, when I scramble eggs they get taken up a couple of pegs
Or we could try some huevos rancheros, or guacamole? Get some limes in here, for the love of all that’s holy
Getting on that cheese, but there ain't no kraft singles, they're beneath me
Gimme Taleggio, Comte, Gorgonzola, the type to improve as it gets older

Room temperature with a paired wine, I draw no line, enjoy the things in life that are fine
But my body shape is in decline, head first into paleo, cutting out refined carbs is pretty neat-o
I could be the healthiest of them all, time to answer the call and drive down to the mall yeah
Cutting out confections, I’m gonna set a course for the organic section

I just wanna eat primeval
I can’t pronounce it so it must be evil
I’ve been eating too much man-made food
Don’t wanna be rude, but what does that include?

Those studies that you’re quoting are fake
They’re trying to make you dumb and compliant
Now I know the truth, I wanna be free from MSG
Don’t tell me that occurs naturally

Okay, that’s awkward, scrap all that, let’s start moving forward
What’s the latest research talking about? What better than a journal to quell any doubt?
What? Someone’s saying bacon causes cancer? All those studies saying fat was bad were paid for by the sugar lobby? Can I trust nobody?
Everybody talking like it’s the end of days, all these stats leaving me in a daze

How will I make informed choices? All of these noises, conflicting voices
Telling me my life expectancy has a full culinary dependency
Grrr, fuck moderation, no indulging, no special occasions
Everything I eat is gonna kill me, potato chips, fruit, dairy, or grilled meat (oh god)

Powdered drinks and meal replacements
I’ve got a stockpile of them in my basement
Taking vitamin pills, it’s future-proof
I’m better than you, and I’ll live longer too

No more sharing meals with friends
I’m transcending human existence
And I’m feeling just fine, loving life
I’M NOT GONNA DIE, so glad I’m no longer living a lie
Track Name: Outro (Undergoing Maintenance)
Undergoing maintenance
Someone call an ambulance
I’m about to wreck shit
And have a fit
Because my favourite site is undergoing maintenance
Trying my patience
What do we pay you for
For you to shut the door?
I need my fix now, but you’re forcing abstinence
Confronting me with a fucking splash page
Making me acutely aware of my fleeting life and young age
How much time am I wasting?
What flavours could I be tasting?
More than the bitterness of online interaction
And overreactions
I’m going on a walk
I’m undergoing maintenance
I’m undergoing maintenance