Word Art Gallery


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02:13 video


OLD SELF, aging millennial rap man, finds himself at corner of nostalgia sickness and questionable materialism in his debut album ‘Word Art Gallery.’ Headtrip, of NYC rap outfit the Karma Kids, provides beats building a relic filled funhouse to explore as you experience OLD SELF’s various styles. ‘Word Art Gallery’ is an endearing excursion in late stage capitalism rap. The copious quotables, and near rhyming pop culture references will have you reaching for the repeat 1 setting.

Twitter: old_selfie
instagram: old_self


released April 10, 2018

Lyrics written & performed by OLD SELF
Additional lyrics written & performed Lt Headtrip, BIG BREAKFAST, Gruff Lion, Googie, & Duncecap.

Produced, recorded & mixed by Headtrip at Karma Kids Studios, Karmastoria, NY
Scratches by Samurai Banana
Alto sax on tracks 4, 5 & 13 by Chris Coles
Keys on tracks 5 & 13 by Philip Anderson
Bass on track 5 by Matthew DeRubertis
Mastered by Jeff Brown at Pyramid Octagon Thoth Temple
Album art by Samantha McGiver
Artwork photography by Mel Morales

Thank you to Poppy, Sara, Craig & Becky Vassar, SKECH185, & Hairy Diamond for lending your voices to the album.

©2018 we are the karma kids


all rights reserved



we are the karma kids New York, New York

we are the karma kids, stirring up madness in karmastoria and serving it everywhere, blowing your eardrums with our tongues.

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Track Name: Easter Eggs
I quit rapping like I quit smoking cigarettes
Passionately ignorant
Cuz actually, who gives a shit?
I’m inspired by Puff Daddy ad libs
Pizza crust on my mattress
And complimentary matches
Old honkeys eroding America
Old songs that I wrote about heroin
Am I defined by the way that my parents is?
Pull my phone out of my pocket
Unlock it and stare at it
Absent minded
Post-ironic Chili’s dining
We got all the appetizers
I got rhymes like bottomless tortilla chips
Pet a cat my allergies got me seeing red
Partial to the chia pets
Painting pictures white vinegar and easter eggs
Salt N Pepper that’s a rap group and a seasoning
And all that shit that doesn’t mean anything
I got in trouble in high school for looking up pictures of belly rings

Uh huh, yeah
Track Name: Word Art
The new daddy in the booth like Boo Radley
Only wash my pants when my pants are too baggy
Fresh out the dryer
Thighs larger than Mark McGwire’s
Got a stiff upper lip and ziplines of my saliva
That’s enzymes to digest
Eye of the tigress
On the internet no man is an island
I’m on the internet like hot singles in your area
I’m on the internet living life vicarious
Throttled down data
Wireless carriers
What a time to be alive in America
It’s like a wack hallucination
I’m losing patience
Windows 98 (arf arf) Movie Maker
Lights, camera, action
In innovative fashion
Tell me, do you really wanna unleash the dragon?
The art of fourth and inches
In artificial systems
I wrote a whole verse without disrespecting women

Welcome to the Word Art Gallery
Various styles in the Word Art Gallery
This is the Word Art Gallery
Various styles in the Word Art

Part Pauly Shore
Part Al Borland
Find me at the bball court
Or the Caldor bargain bin
Partially parched
Puffin a part of a parliament
On the weekend seekin a parkin spot to party in
Green hat yellow cardigan
Chuck D and Lars Ulrich in an argument
Nostalgia makes me sick but I’m watchin bids
On Nintendo 64 cartridges
Gotta stay positive
Camp Anawanna, Donkey Lips
Walkin down the street with a pocket full of lozenges
Flip the script like Mr. Rogers switches kicks
Trust me, I’m a Dr. Octagonecologyst
Y’all can chomp on this
Shopping for a pot to piss
Posse in effect
Bat out of H E double hockey sticks
Oochie wally wally watch me pop an ollie switch
Illuminati got my mind soul and body sick

Chorus x2
Track Name: Wicky Wild (Wild West)
I wanna be featured on a VH1 clipshow
And countdown the top 90s sitcom intros
Hashtag official
Sag past the stink hole
Wanna disco, wanna see me disco
Printer ink low
Pink mink coat
I been dope the way I craft a single
Keep it simple
Change my name into a symbol
I’ve got wack rhymes like my sack’s lined with wrinkles

Chorus: One time I heard someone say Ja Rule’s the Drake DMX
I used to watch Ms. Doubtfire on VHS
That didn’t really rhyme, but I guess I made it fit
Wicky Wild, Wicky Wild Wild West

You can find me freestyling at the lama zoo
Eatin almonds and hot gabagool
Copped binoculars, so I could spot the cockatoos
I’m in a hot pink bodysuit
Jordan’s and Jockey crew
Mighty Morphin endorphin ranger
My zord is a Porsche or an orphan angel
Par for the course sportin orange Kangol
We’re the perfect strangers
What if Cory divorced Topanga?
That was corny but more my nature
Rap game Antiques Roadshow appraiser
Change my rap name to Sarah Palin
Now we parasailin with Walker Texas Ranger
Track Name: Nostalgia
Illest rapper this side of my combover
International zone coaster
Hold the door open
Wavy like the ocean
Hit Me Baby One More Time era Britney Spears poster
Tangerine sodas
La-Z-Boy sofa
98 Sammy Sosa, tiny circles
Neighbor’s Cadillac, shiny purple
10pm curfew
Empty cans I should return soon
No shirt, No shoes, No service
I’m a grown person, searchin earth’s surface
Street urchin, curse on clean version
Speak in third person
Already know what it is
Second wind
Frontier medicine
Knock knock, let us in
Song lyrics in your away messages
Brain Stringcheese
In the middle of little Italy eatin’ linguine

Hit em with the intricate dap maneuvers
Rappin super
Livin in the past, that’s the future
You made it a hot song, I made it a hot album
We’re livin in the past cuz the present and future hurts
Like assembling Ikea furniture
Track Name: The Remix (feat. Lt Headtrip)
Verse 1
Scrollin through my que
Type of mood too choosy
Who decided to do a part 2 of this movie?
Seen the first one on cable
Cut the scene with the boobies
Why’d they have to go and ruin my childhood

Lt Headtrip:
(Amuse me)
Folklore, tall tales, oral tradition
Old story, new generation, casual revision
Why shouldn’t this convention apply to motion pictures?
We could capture the original studio’s exploitative vision

Son, you droppin’ wisdom
No need to risk the cash on the new
Just rehash and reuse the old tried and the true

Lt Headtrip:

(True, True, True, True)

We’ve got nothing to lose
Chewing gum from your show

Lt Headtrip:
Reduce, Recycle, and Consume

The franchise is on its last leg,
But it focused group so well
We already rebranded,
And it didn’t boost sales

Lt Headtrip:
I mean, we’re only human
What can we do to help?

Have you tried shutting it down and letting it reboot itself?

Chorus 1:
Yo this a full blown remake, yo
Shot for shot, yeah put it on replay (Don’t call it a comeback!)
Seriously, this a full blown remake

Verse 2
Lt Headtrip:
The second episode’s a flashback episode
With every memory the cashback potential grows
We recast White Chicks, but there’s backlash in the gender roles
It hasn’t aged well, even the laugh track’s getting old

I could go for another Air Bud, I hold Beethoven sacred
I’m a Tobey Maguire fan, I don’t mean to play favorites
But most Spider Man ain’t too amazing
Three hours of the same thing, I don’t have the patience

Lt Headtrip:
I fell asleep watching Ninja Turtles 2

The new Ninja Turtles 2?

Lt Headtrip:
Nah, the one with the ooze, you know

The one with Vanilla Ice bustin a move

Lt Headtrip:
Dude, we’re stuck in a loop

I’m waitin on the new version of Clue

Lt Headtrip:
Me too
They cast Johnny Depp as live action Pocahontas
An alt-right Mel Gibson might reprise his role as John Smith

Trip that’s obnoxious

Lt Headtrip:
Yeah, they’re in it for the profits

Hot damn, that plot’s thick

Lt Headtrip:
Screw it, where’s the off switch?

Chorus 2:
Don’t call it a comeback
It’s a full blown remake
Shot for shot, yeah put it on replay
Don’t call it a comeback
Yo it’s a full blown remake
New cast new director, old screenplay
Track Name: What's My Age (Again)?
The GameCube controller,
Is the best controller,
Big hands, little hands can both hold that controller
Used to think at 28 that I would be a grown up
Now my twenties gettin late and I don’t know what’s a grown up?
Like damn, what’s the hold up?
Been movin much slower,
I’m pushin’ thirty and I’m lower on the poster
I’m feelin older, but I’m not feelin older
Still I’m more jaded, still I’m more colder
All denim everything, I’m a fraud I’m a god
On stage, I’m the centerpiece
Login to facebook to delete the memories
Who’s that? Struggle rap, human centipede
Money ain’t a thing, but it’s all about the benjamins
Sliding in direct messages,
Droppin indirect messages,
Text messages, read with no message sent

Chorus 1 (Lt Headtrip):
Uhh What’s my age again?
Kinda spaced out, got me feelin like an alien
What’s my age again?
Kinda outta touch with my own generation
And, uh, wait, what’s my age again?
Kinda spaced out, feelin like an alien
What’s my age again?
I don’t get their references, and I don’t like the games they play

Verse 2:
A sarcastic ‘yo it’s just a prank bro’
Two dollars for the guac
You I’m dressed down in plain clothes
I’m very handsome in my Helly Hansen raincoat
Let the madness begin, if you grin let the brains blow
Now I did somethin stupid
(What’s that?)
On the down low, I downloaded every episode of Home Improvement
Phones are so intrusive, but I wrote this on my phone
Just so you know, and there’s no confusion
(OLD SELF) Still younger than Young Jeezy
Lil’ Waluigi you can see me on enhanced CD
Hairline been beyond receding,
Everybody workin for the weekend
When we could grab a little slice of pizza
Or we could get a pizza
Or I could just eat a whole pizza
Cola by the liter
I stay alive to find meaning
But I only feel alive when I’m eating

Chorus 2:
What’s my age again?
What’s my age again?
I’m not goin out tonight, I think I’m just stayin in
What’s my age again?
What’s my age again?
I’m pretty tired, don’t think I’m gonna make it friend
Track Name: Relationship Fat
Relationship fat, relationship fat
I let myself get relationship fat
Relationship fat, relationship fat
She stole my skateboard and I want it back

We spent four years together
And of course, that means more than just some material possessions
Who’s actin passive aggressive?
I guess that depends on who’s askin the question
I’m an ass I’ll admit it
I’m not stuck in the past, but I won’t forget it
I got fat and stopped progressin
The love was lost, hit pause on the friendship
She stole my skateboard, and she stole my nintendo
I got a gym membership, and a new apartment
An ovlov record and a MacBook charger
And I tell myself that I’m not my father
I see you as a reflection of flaws
And It’s hard to say I love you to the ones that you’ve wronged
I’ve moved on, but the wounds are still raw,
And I know that you didn’t want me writing this song
To that effect I express how I feel
Now that she’s not around to tell me chips aren’t a meal
I didn’t take her for someone to steal
But if something’s tangible then that means that it’s real
Track Name: Golden Rule (Radio Edit) feat. Lt Headtrip & BIG BREAKFAST
Chorus (Lt Headtrip):
Do unto others
We’ll stick to the rules, you run the numbers
Do unto others
We stay golden but we lude and we stubborn
Do unto others
We’ll stick it to the rulers, you run for cover
(Uh) Do unto others
We stay gold but we some rude mufu

I’m on it, breakfast god darn it
Punch the grill out your mouth
Steal it, melt it down and pawn it
Trip rockin turquoise like the Hornets
In flip flops, with his shirt off
On some gnarly (ish)
(Uh) My nature is sorta naughtyish
I saw your shorty dip
Absorbing it from the audience
Pack of parliaments rolled up in the white tee
Look up the hardest, and you might see Mikey
And I don’t even smoke with cigarettes
Boom bap spliffs, hoodrat (shh) with my friends
In Pittsburgh, yellin’ ‘yins’ and ‘go Pens’
In the trunks that I’m swimmin with like Goten
Dingaling swingin like the US Open
A million in my living room but you get no ends
You prolly never heard Cold Vein
BREAKFAST the not as dead Kurt Cobain

Chorus (Lt Headtrip)

Verse 2 (OLD SELF):

Ya’ll Mitch McConnell with the turtle face
Trickle down, let it drop, let it percolate
Got your man crush feelin type of certain ways
I’m so Adam Levine, I think I heard em say
Nothing’s ever promised tomorrow today
Now we’re just messin with your head like John McCain
Open disses in writtens that’s common place
You should mind the gap, that’s Common’s place
I’m so post pizza delivery
Part pink ranger,
Part I love the 70s
Part Jimmy Page
Part Puff Daddy, Come With Me
Another butterfree, Pokemon Puzzle League
The headliner that opens shows,
Almost comatose, though I’m so composed
You should put my name higher on the poster though
Ya’ll can kick rocks with an open toe, so it goes

Chorus (Lt Headtrip)
Track Name: Old Kids feat. Gruff Lion & BALD AFRO
I feel like a grown baby
I float like a seal
I see life, it’s so wavy
Yet I still find it hard to swim free of this safety net
I can stand on my own two, but I’m still taking baby steps
Living at my mom’s has made dating awkward too
But I ask myself, what would Woodstock ‘99 Kid Rock do?
Still rock the white high top shoe
Could you guys keep it down a scooch?
My first time around wasn’t quite as good
So I’m on my second childhood

Gruff Lion:
Yo, I fell for SELF’s mother at after hours
We’d half soured a pickle
She picked us up it was lit
Blacked out, he fell asleep in the back drowsing
I pulled into the front and proceeded to cat powers
Told her I’m eskimo brothers with Jack Bauer (I am)
She didn’t seem particularly impressed by the feat
She said “you just Web, and your my son’s rapper friend,
But I’d be happy to have you crash on the couch though”

Ouch yo, Googie I pissed the chaise lounge
No! Pull it together Trip
Take a time-out, ‘fore we Jazzed up out this house on some outlaw
12 steps, count, draw
All I ever wanted was a guidance counselor to find
“What else?”
Probably an accountant to balance the astounding amount of frugal allowances in my household. Sound off!
1, 2 late night, basement kung fu
Tune in next week gumshoes to hear the next riveting chapter
Gruff, SELF, and BALD AFRO

Yo we them old kids, them don’t do what they told kids
Dumb young soles, with them full grown dicks
Ya gonna wanna wash the sheets after what we did
Cuz it’s probably gonna reek of old kids
Yo we them old kids, them don’t do what they told kids
Dumb young soles, with them full grown dicks
You shouldn’t wanna go to sleep
Cuz if you did, ya prolly gonna dream of old kids
Track Name: Null and Void feat. Duncecap
Verse 1 (OLD SELF):
I forgot your name before you even said it
I was planning my response
I wasn’t paying attention
Unfinished thoughts
An incomplete sentence
I had an anecdote, but I don’t remember
Lost in my head I’m stuck between stations
Imagined scenarios
It’s like two conversations, simultaneous
Shame based memories
I forgot what I was gonna say
But it’s not worth mentioning
Feelin some type of other way
I think I think too much
I’m overthinking all my actions
I think I think too
I think I seem distracted
To insecurity and beyond
Sweaty palms
I’m an awkward person
I take after my moms
I’m in the physical but I’m out
Rather be home on the couch
It’s nice to meet you
My name is OLD SELF, doubt

Verse 2 (Duncecap):
Nice to meet ya
My names a grave mistake
Cradle to the ashes at sea
Rhyme takes 80 takes
Fell asleep
My head cookin the minute rice
I know I’m not as good receiving
As I am at giving advice
Nocturnal, scared of light
Tell me what the day is like
Two broken legs
Buckle up, take a hike
Too quiet
Tell tale, I’m awfully pissed
Prepared to fight, cowardice
Escalate to balled up fist
I wrote this backwards with an optimistic angst
I only got gratitude when I’m given thanks
Piggyback the piggy bank
Schemes up the pyramid
Scuba dive for fountain pennies when my career is shit
I want a hologram of myself to preview
So I can desensitize my fears of change that’ll eat you
We creepers need to breed too
Imagining hauntings
Falling the solace and longing
(Ah f*ck, the wrong things)

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