10 months ago

211

The lyrics are all mine.
The image was generated using Leonardo.ai.
The voice and music were generated using Suno.com.
The AI manipulation of my mouth was done using Vozo AI.
The original video was actually shot in 2014. It was of me miming Eminem's Without Me:
https://youtu.be/t0TLc87rUWI?si=YcwrnenFjcituNaR

Find my entire book of rap here:
https://www.amazon.com.au/Sales-Pitch-Matthew-Vandenberg/dp/1685830749

Here are the original posts, from 2016:
https://www.facebook.com/share/p/17s3BZntoL/

#LeonardoAI
#Suno
#VozoAI
#SalesPitch
#BookOfRap
#SuitcaseStore
#Travel
#Obsession
#Rap
#Lyrics
#AlbumDrop
#LGBTQI

JALEBI

I won't deny I got a stake in female emancipation: hearing the details of womanly masturbation/
Do you like dirty gossip?/
Have you heard that I'm a poet?/
Words get dirtier and dirtier/
Your dirt on me leaves me abhorrent,
as I mentally play with your mental state to eventually say, for my sake, you get flirtier and flirtier, leaving a trail of tissues about that point to the surface of your cunt/
I'm thirsty as fuck/
Write me up/
If I write I've ev'ry right to make an impression/
Women are programmed to love only one man, but what about their true feelings and confessions?/
Sheets are spread out and used for heads instead of chicks using heads in using spreadsheets to organize affairs and make plans/
I guess a grid on 'em would look like hair and make 'em haram/
There are no plans or saving of some space except for being with one man/
But there's a thick hijab I'm denting,
to make a figurative bot's skin more like Mars, and me a rover you're getting in/
Let's explore the depths of your mind and the sweat all over your skin/
I know of a slippery slope toward you and I'm so talkative I dove straight into it/
Slide a single digit to the right side of mine like this is a swipe and the right time; right/
Ev'ry move of your hand's like digits living on Tinder, and tender/
I'm a deep-sea diver, from all over the globe, but your lips are the best land for me to see to feel that it's your plans I can fit in with/
Get French kissing here in Calcutta, with a massive populace like lips, and I can feel I slipped inside 'em, red like Mars, like it's hot. Just cue warmth and being watched/
I got shops to stop at but, like Saroo, I get lost a lot,
but pennies drop when I think I'm lost in sexy Hindu women (like they're thought) and on this figurative train I train myself not to be too quick to get off/
If you get off, then on one, and another one does too, and another gets on and on and on,
I'm not turning my nose up at anyone (you'll find it turns up if you're anyone). I'm just trying to smell breaths y'all lost/
No sex, just smells, is the depth of this togetherness as hot as a cold hell I'm set free from/
See me turned on, don't see me off/
With no freeze-frames, keep breath coming like rain,
and if it is, I need this water to drink/
Wave to me like your palm's a bed or a palm you're getting nuts from/
Come and see coconuts crack in a sense when your senses are so strong/
I'll just come near you if you do first, plus on and on/
Second, go nuts about this song/
Third, I wanna pen a verse that's longer than your hot tongue that was lost in chili curries and now resides on my lips so I'm breathing through my nose and smelling the scent of true Indian cuisine/
Breathe like you're in deep, reading these haram lyrics and keeping beats with your fingers, in tearing your hijab to pieces/
Throw the confetti of breath for a fitting evening, in a fitting room for intense breathing; natural incense/
Come briefly then forever and completely, sweetly: jalebi/