8 months ago

The lyrics are all mine.
The image was generated using Leonardo.ai.
The voice and music were generated using Suno.com.

Find my original 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
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AIRBORNE

The Weeknd's "Often"
is an understatement/
Women come over,
and over me, a lot,
and they're rather high; elated/
Was that an overstatement?/
It's like they've taken a stand/
It would be rude to make other plans,
while giving them a hand/
They're so sweet,
like they've eaten out for Taiwanese centuries,
in going down on Dutch and Japanese entities,
just to get bad breaths for me,
like there's some; breath's mine; rising up to breathe/
Sugar's not necessary/
But I need strange breaths to be female strangers',
for feels to be truly ageless,
so a wet hand needs to be collective;
make waves up to where my stage is set/
I need to see many women at once at once,
like they're on a sexual world-tour,
telling one another what to do,
while they have Tourette's/
Fuck! Let's all just;
ingest breaths;
not in jest/
Ten or so women saw me when I sorely went and entered the plane I'm staying in/
They sat next to me,
like ten abreast,
so breasts were twenty,
but I guess they weren't weighing up any options,
coz they didn't exist/
Did they exist?/
But as I look at the way to well below the plane,
I'm thinking I'm a misfit,
and I'll miss fitting into this plane with these babes/
I could use some air/
I don't mean wind,
but their breaths on my face/
I wish this were a tandem 400-way Thai skydive of mine/
I wish the parachutes were a sheet;
that they'd all make like they're breeding and making babies over seas, overseas,
because I'll fall for them,
like I'm on a trip to my knees/
I'll make a ring in the sky with the divers, and diners,
and I won't care just where their so-long fingers lie,
so long as I'll climb right between their thighs/
If they'll like, I'll strike like a snake,
for the year, in Chinese airspace,
while I'm in the sky,
and moving at a rate sure to get others high,
and they'd come fast,
if moving to my sides/
Maybe I'll face my fate without them,
if I make myself believe that my weight's me waiting to see them again,
and I'm falling into space to be weightless,
to wait less/
Can they be Martian waitresses?,
but serving me their breaths,
in a suit they're all waiting in/
If I'm based at a base camp,
I wish to be exploring their cliff-faces/
I want that more than a raise/
I really wanna lick their clits,
like my tongue's a global flag raised;
to fly!/
I'm standing at the edge of a plane/
I'm planning to be turning a page/
Books on paper will look like they're shedding skin,
as pages are ripped away by winds at a fast rate,
and I crave change;
mingling, sans staying with single babes/
I get Taiwanese pizza,
because pearls are cheesy/
Can wedding rings be greasy?,
to slip off fingers easily/
Rings should just be by doors,
like left there, and can I get chicks' attention religiously?, please/
Can I hear the Fu Bell at the end of a period piece?/
Can women, who've well had enough of frequently bleeding over time, get a chance to speak?/
All I hear is moaning, like Lisa's,
or is this some new-world masterpiece;
sound as some Eternal Spring's being released?/