7 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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#SalesPitch
#BookOfRap
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#Travel
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#LGBTQI

BARE

Come bare face to faces
with naked states; great embraces/
Dated breaths make it straight to the most intimate inner spaces/

Seeing your face is basic foreplay, Kay/
When I face you all day,
it's like I'm saving your face for later,
but not saving face/
Face it,
your face is always naked/
Probably an eighth of our bodies are naked, like suitcases',
and we're on display for anyone paying for others to make their case/
Customers, your arguments can be ours to recreate,
coz I wanna stand face to face on stage with a babe getting in my face,
when it's all an act/
All this inaction has me about to crack/
I need drama,
like I need you to cut me some slack/
I wanna see your dark side,
like some slack is slacks,
which are Fifty Shades of Grey,
and they make a shadow on your face
when they're cut for days,
in making fabricated waves
for some final take/
And, finally, take a deep breath
like you're irate,
and exhale as you urinate on material goods,
so to make sure some date of release is as clear as day,
at night,
when we're playing with the lights,
but I love it when you're bright,
and I wanna feel your bite when we . . .

Come bare face to faces/

The distance between us is so long,
and you restate this, like making it a regional Australian state, when you say 'so long'; as you go off; on and on/
I know you need to pee in your own zone; behind locks,
like coming covertly on one after one,
in sealing a floor with a hairy coat of sea loch,
but I wish you had it in you to show off/
If I would inevitably get fired, in having sexual nosy after nosy, from any culinary job,
isn't it commonsensical for liquids that are passing by your genitals, and initially loaded with bacteria, to go over me when hot?,
so I'm eating loads at a restaurant/
I know you ain't gonna hear this, sober or not,
so I can spit whatever shit I know I want,
like this is some sobering over-shot/
If being jealously green is hot,
I guess it's me in a top British greenhouse; stove, like on a stove top/
So, Runaway, Kayla, like what was sung by Ye or, more harmoniously, by The Corrs/
If a musical break's bathroom,
some flow maybe won't stop/
Can breathers be overblown; over the top?/
A breather's a break on a soapbox;
from a box of soap of language to drop,
so I wish some break from you were bare-bone breaths washing over me lots,
like your water broke off in a snog/
I'm trying to meet you halfway, co-working bot,
like we work in a co-op/
Coz I know my repulsive approaches make you give your head a common opposite toss,
coz it's always the same way I'm made to feel alone and lost,
as I move orderly appropriately away from your spotless floor,
like I'm like what's seen in the gross john
when you wanna go for stone-broke poor; to fog,
in taking to pushing a worn broken knob,
like I'm some common john; knob, myself; hopeless jock/
But I'm more hoping, since I mean disgusting shit to you, you can at least piss on my fiery, in being devotionally emotional, sore spot,
as my jaw drops with shock/