ScHoolboy Q
Oxymoron

Almighty king of all kings, bless this damn microphone, while I curse all the detractors and traitors, even though I am the absolute leader of those who love to betray.

I have seen hell, I still see it now, and I see myself, perfectly inserted into the context. I've traveled the world, I've seen hunger, I've seen power annihilate the individual, and I've seen the torments of a life never wanted. I've watched petrified at my definitive death: a beautiful girl, at least I think she was; she was definitely SUPER VOLUPTUOUS, LIKE DAMN SHE HAD A FULL SIZE FIVE EH!!! Anyway, the busty girl took a saber, decapitated me, drank my blood, and then returned to the darkness from which she came....

I met the devil, but I had no soul to give, as I had already sold it to the god Bacchus and his wonderful creation, alcohol. The devil asked me for the soul of someone dear to me, and I fooled him, as the only person dear to me at that moment was Satan himself. SBAAAAAAM Little Horn sticks it to pure evil and returns to life.

I took back everything that was taken from me, or at least almost everything. Let's say I took back the things I cared about most. It's just that my hunger is unending and my existential void keeps growing. Immersed in a sea of lies and hypocrisy, I can no longer distinguish truth from falsehood. Even this life of mine, where messing around and swaggering badly reconcile with duty and honesty, is all a lie. The truth is that once you're dead, you don't come back to life. What I have now is just a joke, a fiction indeed. A sad party: an oxymoron.

Schoolboy Q has also seen the worst of the worst: from a criminal past (affiliated with the Crips), he committed all kinds of crimes to provide for his daughter's well-being. A Machiavellian vision of life. This album is his redemption, his trophy: he won and now he's at the top. The man of the year, as he defines himself with enormous arrogance, albeit largely justified. The big guy offers a rap of frightening ignorance, clinging to themes so dear to Gangsta Rap (such as revenge, self-celebration, street life, and other indefinable nonsense), presenting himself with great attitude and doling out bars of rare quality here and there. The flow is among the sickest in the mainstream and not (with lightning-fast changes and voice modulation, our dear Q will know how to engage you best), so much so that perhaps this element emerges most in context. For heaven's sake, not that the beats are poor: on the contrary, it's a meticulously crafted musical work, drawing on all kinds of sounds, perfectly uniting mainstream and underground (an oxymoron indeed).

Ignorance at inhuman levels, in short, but every now and then, it's needed: just don't end up like me, losing the values and precepts of a life. Or maybe, more likely, this lifestyle is the correct one, and the Christian God is nothing but Money. I don't know, but I'm not interested in searching for God either: I can't even find the truth, let alone God. Naaah for now, I'm content with Vodka, Schoolboy Q, and a chick I hate but who blows marvelously well.....

Little Horn is dead: the drama is that he came back to life....more or less. Now the problems are all yours. Naaaah don't worry, I don't bite: it's all a facade. I'm happy even in this plastic life: an oxymoron indeed.