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Rating: I stumbled upon the new and very first single of yet another young talent of our own trap music by pure chance, and it was love at first sight. Not to mention at first listen.
Apart from the predictability of the song's title, it was the stage name of this not-so-easily-identifiable bespectacled and tattooed youngster that triggered an intellectual and emotional storm within me. Just for the moniker, this neophyte of trap poetry deserves to be rewarded and catapulted to global success.
Then there's the song's lyrics. A beat that does not offer anything new, in terms of sound and atmosphere. All stuff we've heard before, just like the song's title. Yet the verses are worthy of a Nobel prize in literature.
What do you want me to say
about my best friend
just ask
and before you know it
she gives me some pussy
without persuasion
without compassion
she gives it to me with pleasure
she gives it for enjoying
she needs no begging
she just wants f******.
Who is Quasimodo? Who is Montale? But I would say... who was Dante Alighieri?
The Dolce Stilnovo is revolutionized here without mincing words, shifting the lexicon of courtly love from the sensual innuendos of Italian medieval times to the explicit declaration of intentions and events of the Third Millennium. The best friend, after all, is a true friend: ready and willing to do anything without much hypocrisy or paranoia. Probably, aside from more cautious social behavior, even the friends of the past ended up happily giving it away for their own pleasure and that of their beloved accomplice. Yet, in the moderately (at times) licentious anthologies of poets from those distant times, no one, not even Cecco Angiolieri, was able to express the friendly sharing of sex with such serene transparency.
she gives me some pussy
dripping wet
all it takes is a lick
I eagerly await the developments of this phenomenal teenager in underwear (in plain view). I anticipate a potential album, even though today the concept of an album is outdated. I look forward to live and TV performances, assuming he's allowed to get away with certain explicitities. Moreover, compared to many of his peers who rattle off violent and degrading machismo, Pisciatoio has a certain sweetness. Here is friendship, there is reciprocity, there is pure pleasure for pleasure's sake.
Surely not everyone is fortunate enough to have friends so unashamed and evolved. But we are of another generation. Or perhaps even in ours, friends did willingly give it away, only we always thought they didn't give it to us.
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