The Party Drug Anthem (PDA) (Demo Take)

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Hindsight

Hindsight bias, also known as the knew-it-all-along phenomenon or creeping determinism, is the common tendency for people to perceive past events as having been more predictable than they actually were. People often believe that after an event has occurred, they would have predicted or perhaps even would have known with a high degree of certainty what the outcome of the event would have been before the event occurred. Hindsight bias may cause distortions of memories of what was known or believed before an event occurred, and is a significant source of overconfidence regarding an individual's ability to predict the outcomes of future events. Examples of hindsight bias can be seen in the writings of historians describing outcomes of battles, physicians recallin… more »

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This song isn't encouragement
Rather, it's a song disguised as a lesson of do's and do not's
I want to make sure that you do not travel down my road, yeah
So here you go
Let's put you in the motherfucking know

Let's start off easy, capeesh
I'm about to make a vernacular-fucking inaugural speech
Place my left hand on the Bible, raise my right one up
And repeat after me
I'm about to swear to you
That this song is what's up
And I'll do it to these beats
Because it's the truth, it's the proof
That some of history is lying to you
So now let's make an honest person out of you

Let's start with Xanax
Otherwise known as take a nap bitch
Oh, I see you're stressing, come here
Let me make you sink in your chair
When really, you should be dressing up
For your day at work at the clinic-of-hair
Then you remember that you're off
And you don't even gotta go up there
But how were you supposed to have remembered that
You had to get woken up
By a huge backslap
To the face by a case of the drowsies
Feeling lousy and pouty
Because now you're all crossed up and doubty
Trippin' man
And not the fun kind
Rather over the pots and pans that you dropped on your kitchen floor
When you finished cooking some really yummy shit
That you buy at the store
This shit's made in a laboratory, yo
They prescribe it to the mentally strained, yo
But rarely do they give it to the ones that need it though
Cause if they actually helped, they wouldn't get their money, bro
So bars, and not the rhyming kind will maybe slow you up
Maybe ease your mind up
But in reality, those little footballs, triangles, and three-section concoctions
Well, they're only fun if you want mush in your noggin
Oops, I forgot the rest
I got real tired all of a sudden
My head, it started nodding

Look
Drugs, drugs, druggy drug drugs
Some of them make your stomach
Feel like you ate some slugs
And some of them are a godsend from heaven above
So, love, love, lovey dove dove
Take the ones that help
And forget the ones that don't, dog
Because people don't realize that the doctors are the good guys
But they answer to the ones with the supply
So, you have a choice to either fly or die
Or ride and cry
Just get on the magic carpet and set sail for the sky
Take a ride, man
And then call up the genie that the world has been bottling

Now, we're gonna get a bit more serious
We're gonna chat about the shit that induces
Delirious, insidious, and hideous and pitiful hysteria
Caused by some misfires in your brain
Because you took some shit to numb your pain
Yes, you guessed it
The culprits here are opiates
Methadone, man
Vicodin, you fucking thin pin
Heroin, angel dust, and black tar are an absolute sin
I've seen people sell their souls to this shit
While spending their living just to make sure that they can get it
Two hundred dollars every 5 days
For little white pills that get you stuck in their ways
Of not eating anything that isn't deep fried food
And if you fucking go without them
You'll feel like you'll die
And you really just might
That why I'm writing this rhyme
To tell you that this stuff isn't a joke
If you think it's fun or it's nothing but a little time
Polka dancing in the sun
Then I cannot tell you enough
Stay away from these things, man
Or you might just end up in a coffin and not breathing
But you'll be still crutching onto your crutch with
The numbers 8-5-3 etched and sketched into their face and it
Doesn't matter what season
These things are called a crisis for a motherfucking reason
Season that, pound that
Let that sink in
This is marination of a whole generation

Now, we get to the ones I endorse
I skipped over a few that are bad
Because they're so damn bad
That it's not even a fad to do them, so screw them
Let's talk about the good jam
The cream of the crop that you should believe in mushrooms
And I'm not shit talking about shitake
I'm taking about that magic cap
That'll have you laying on your back with sunglasses on
Because you see the image of something that makes you go woah
Triple rainbow, man
And it does nothing but put you in awe
Talk to it
It might even talk back, sounds bad right
Most think so, but they don't know
That that magic shit is natural
Absolutely natural, and that's actually factual
Take them 1 or 2 times, and you might learn how to rhyme like me
Take them 3 or 4 times, and you might become a guru, chief
Sitting on your throne watching over all of history
Just don't take a whole bag of caps
Cause then you'll watch everything you see sag
Like a bag of potatoes that's full of grease lightning too
Everything will get all slimy and look like
It's falling down right on top of you
LSD?
I've never done it
Woe is me
But I wouldn't hate you if you did it
Once or twice just to see
That it alters every inch of reality
And listen to me about this one, I can't stress it enough
Robitussin is straight up satan
It's definitely not a gift from above
The shit is like devil juice, people
Making you all wobbly, fall down on the sofa
Trying to robo-moonwalk over to wash your hair
But, here's the deal
The shit is on counters, and I can't stop you from buying it
But my advice is this
Do the shit once, just to see into the image that it paints
And then spits back right into your motherfucking face
Just don't end up like me
Thinking you're a motherfucking saint until you faint
Into your own version of hell
Trust me there's not enough stories in existence
About this red shit bath that I could tell
Don't do it
Seriously

Drugs, drugs, druggy drug drugs
Some of them make your stomach
Feel like you ate some slugs
And some of them are a godsend from heaven above
Look, love, love, lovey dove dove
Take the ones that help
And forget the ones that don't, dog
Because people don't realize that the doctors are the good guys
But they answer to the ones with the supply
So, you have a choice to either fly or die
Or ride and cry
Just get on the magic carpet and set sail for the sky
Take a ride, man
And then call up the genie that the world has been bottling, Aladdin

Alright, this one here is something
Every motherfucker needs to hear
The first half of it I'm gonna write without it
Then I'm gonna take a 3 beat pause and come back
Proving you nonbelievers that doubted
That this shit isn't a drug at all
It's the fucking answers to the problems that we have been trying to solve
Yes, you guessed it
I'm talking about Mary Jane, yo
(Spider-Spider-Spider-Man, yo)
Peter Parker, she makes you have a brain, yo
If you're over the age of sixteen
And you think this world's gonna end
Just dance in a field of green until
You realize that in the end
Lights, camera, action
This is all one long Oscar-winning masterpiece of a film scene
Don't use the metal pipe
That shit's for something completely different
Nah, use the glass, Matt
Then share a little bit with Alexis, Matt
Then you'll probably end up having the best sex of your life, dude
Odds are you won't even want to reach up and turn out the lights
But here's a message for the frowners
That are downright downers
Before I take that pause that I spoke about in that first grammatical clause
You motherfuckers are straight up blasphemous
Trying to control a motherfucking plant
That's been here long before a fucking embryo
Turned into a developing baby, yo
And you think you can just strip that shit away
Damn it, you guys are so fucking blind
No wonder you don't like it
You're empty in the mind

But before I get all heated
I'mma take a single minute
I'mma go and imitate the way that Cheech and Chong did it
Just take 3 beats to think about it
Grab a bong and rip it, and when I come back
You'll see the difference that this stanky dank can make
Let's put it down in fate

Hi there
I'm high here
Don't you see what I did there
I played those words like Twister with oil
Slipped around them, danced around them
And flip-flopped around them
And you think this stuff makes people dumb
It kills their brain cells
Makes their minds melt
Into slush hell
Red bell
Rebel yell
Coming from the lungs
Of a Paul Mall smoking tall co

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