Twisted Kite Strings

by Chris Conde

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1.
Fauxtoes 04:16
i'm sick to death of death inside my mind. cuz i'd be lying if i told you that my life was fine and i'd by lying if i told you that my mind was fine so take the time to hear the honesty inside the rhyme my lines are sometimes i feel like i just cannot feel cuz everyday i feel like what the fuck son is this real? does everybody wake up, walk through life having to deal? i just don't know i just don't know i just don't know for real. cuz i'm like rambling right now and i don't really like it someone hand me a stick of dynamite and then ignite it and blow my brain apart so i don't have to live to fight it and when i'm dead make sure you leave open both of my eyelids cuz someone told me that your eye's a window to your soul and i think i have one so i would really like to know who really cared about me through the rain the sun the snow would they take a plane to show up to my funeral? and i'm maybe i'm just over-analyzing all of this maybe i'm the one to blame for my unhappiness maybe i'm acting crazy, lazy, like babies letting little things phase me somebody please shake me cuz lately i'm feeling so dazed me and I realized that they hate me in this daily battle trying to break these feelings i wish god would erase me or take these emotions and pain please cuz i'm constantly aching, and sick to death of picking up a drink to settle the shaking. i am so dusty and dry. the wind covers my eyes chapped lips and cold finger tips november collides no ember to find no members alive no sender to write back these letters have died i'm alive inside trying desperately to die trying to wrap my mind around the Christ suicide. in this rugged rusty rung ladder climb barely alive fill me warmth and light flood the canyon void and dry i'm spittin with a limp and a broken hip spirit hear it? lyrics from the tip of my lips sounded like a heart that's been speared and i fear that this is the clearest appearance of what my life will remain like for the next ten years its the shit that we're livin im givin in slow and all the weed and pornography are just the symptoms that show all the self medication, been raised in a nation of lows and i'm patiently waiting for all the debating to go away from brain swinging on the insane spiral l paint pictures even when there's no revival can't breathe sin in my life spreading like a viral sickness witness as i worship all of my will don't know how to stop hear the tick tock of the clock rockin' on me as i feel the rot of all the transgressions i'm pressin impressing inside me i really need God i'm writing and finding and fighting the mightiest plight of my life and it's fucking difficult despite just how i high get, fighting the riot inside of me kids fighting the riot inside of me fighting the riot inside of me oh how do i get back to where i am supposed to be at or was there ever an at and was there ever a map? i feel like there was, and i just probably lost track i'm glad i'm here right now cuz maybe the sad and the dark and the moon and the gloom and the doom maybe soon will galvanize my spirit to move cuz my tomb is for just my body the consequences of life float on forever like an atom bomb b. so i get up and give up all the shit im trying to get rid of so i spit up my sin lust that's fitted the botttom my tip cup i'm rippin my stitches in a vicious delicious slit up my wrists so His spirit will live up inside me and lift up my britches the pictures of love in the scriptures i pin up inside of me visions of living with Him will i give up my sin the incisions that cause the division and rip up the roots of the giver i shiver alone without His love
2.
Giraffever 04:58
type rhymes kids blind cuz ya can't see me, i'm like time for fresh lines like weed eating, defeating me my feelings bleed on my sleeve freeze squeezing my chest feeling like i can't breathe. i can't see, i can't be i'm ill eagle fly without permission higher than steeples. you think my style is feeble, your listening to lies then, every time i spit i create an event horizon. wise men spoke of me and the prophets cried philosophers and artists looked up towards the sky and my rhymes rained down sparking 'cross the sky the blinds eyes were opened wide the dead were brought to life, my my the people shouted as i kicked a verse i spit shit from the future kid it's not rehearsed ill eagle aztec used me as a curse. they're like that homeless cat with fresh nikes shreds absurd? oh yes and i been around a long time i went to work with my dad when he invented rhyme. i am so hip hop i hurt the earth with my incredible verse i'll hurt ya one more time *** *yes i hit it rip it when i spit it vicious this is the shit that got richest kids up in this buisness getting up on my steelo and feel no pain anymore i really want to stop smoking weed though my bowls does need a reload man the cycle never stops round and round we go im sick and tired of my addictions that feed my ego ill eagle i live to serve the people of earth a verse before my hearse takes me home.**** in an instant i will flip it switch it up and y'all get lifted I think i'm a schizophrenic (i think i'm a schizophrenic) walk and talk with me and visit every single part of this kid stop ---- breathe and get the air into your lungs and lift your - voice and eyes to the sky wide eyed i'm high on life that might be a lie but i'm just trying to survive so why do i do the things i despise ( ) a sigh of discontent in the winter of my own i feel weathered and bent. weed coma at home, headphones asleep in bed. when i'm alone i think sometimes i'm dead. I"m just being dramatic i'm asthmatic bad at mathematics an addict, not to crack just wack shit that is bad and for me the line is blurry between hobby and habit. and where he hell is God in all of this? what the fuck is happening to me bro? why is this quiet stench the breath of leviathan rising up from under me my teeth are broken vitamins. i've hit rock bottom, the consequences of my sin like watching ashes fall in sodom. i got problems, 99 are my own fault and every time i close my eyes and wish that i was looking at the sky in autumn, Dear jesus, i got a fucked up life you want it? i'm sick and tired of crying, dying eating my own vomit, honest. take this is as a promise. i don't wanna go home with all of this.
3.
I'm a thriller with binoculars see MC's then kill them iller are my flows lyrics got no filler and i'm creepin on ah come up wanna watch? come hither. heavier than texas toast with butter in the middle yea i wreck the flow. break the mold i'm an electric ghost and when my album comes out i'm a hit the road cuz all i do is write work eat sleep touch a cloud with some friends and drink i'm slippin into my thinking i think hold up watch now yo don't blink and don't think that i wasn't created to paint on blank canvases with my dank patterns syllabic i'm weaving and folding and stitching the fabric with ash from atlantis pear snaps i'm praying like a mantis oh snap i'm rappin on the raddest dope track i'm gonna take the baddest ghost nap rainbow smoke stacks signaling my departure from the space time continuum
4.
hear the black whisper fall on my ear but i don't want it i don't want it i've been sitting here for a couple years and i keep on saying the same thing i'm beginning to lose hope and trust in all the things i do believe in what the hell is happening to me what the hell is happening sometimes i just feel so alone even when i hang out with people like i walk downtown into the streets and come home feeling weak and feeble is there somewhere i can go to take is there something i can do to take is there someone out there who can take all this pain away cuz i need to breathe i'm waking up out of my couch looking around like where the hell am i now? i'm drowning in all of these doubts douse the flames of a dragon i'm chasing around. fell off a wagon but where is it now. feel like i'm screaming in colorful sounds. give you the crown, i'll give you the dagger to stab it right now please do it right now cuz i'm so sick of this christopher nicholas in this not of this so why do i covet this worlds an illusion herbs i'm infusing serve as solution what am i doing all of it's nuisance all of it's nuisance give me your two cents. i'm just trying to live. and just trying to get away from all the habits i hang to it's painful to view myself do the things that entangle. and i know that i am human but i feel like i am losing and my mind is such a nuisance find me a solution kinda feel stupid eating up my putrid puke again
5.
Ghost to the electric i'm reckless on a bike like i'm driving while texting but i ride bikes cuz it's nice here in texas future rap to keep you kids guessing messing with the ghost and the walrus all up in the cut leaving nothing but sawdust and diamonds i'm striving to die to myself cuz myself is a giant tyrant riding the beat with a purpose focus my flow so you see where my worth is not in my clothes not in the surface my identity is rooted in a purchase serve kids worthless words it's a waste of all our time what goods a rap if the words just only rhyme lacking depth lacking introspection reverse curses so death don't wreck them tension in my chest for the youth so i spit intention and truth cosmic ascension scenic view in and out of space me and you spirit fall as i flow lyrics shine when my lips throw air from my lungs trees sing when the wind blows through hear this song let it touch you penetrate heart when you feel the rhythm run through you dude it's alive feel the fire inside rise to your eyes clear vision new sight right? i'm letting go no more white-knuckle'n truth has a grip keeping me from stumblin wondering if i'm dumb enough to run again but i'm done living in my own imprisonment isn't it legit when we get new perspective like a perscription for lenses corrective recked in the head i'm a mess i confess these truths do my best to be real fill every syllable with realness so when i spit you are guaranteed to feel this cuz who would i be if i rapped about things that never happened to me never actually had a place in my life like talking about guns when you're scared to hold knives i'm wide awake ready for action no time to waste awaitin the captain of the ship his will his direction moving me progress not perfection
6.
Circles 08:39
riding on my bicycle from work hand shaking head hurts mind flirting with the idea of hurting myself with poison noise and static poised to misdirect my choices yes the voices whisper in my ear softly a long spree of drug use had gripped my wallet and tossed me across a lost sea of hopelessness and i hope this gets better kid cuz i know that its killing me willing me to fill my innards to the ceiling with something that's gonna make me feeling sweet feelin me? insanity had left me lost and naked vacant spirituatlly bankrupt will i make it take this obsession from me. i wanna run free and let the spirits sunbeams come freely unto me lift the sun-screen from my rusty beating heart comfort me with even just a teeny spark please i'm dying here i'm writing dear john letters to a mirror and i fear i've severed all clear tracks for trains of thought outta here save me god i can hear the tip-toeing walk of the reaper near i'm not thinking clear and if i drink this beer i really think my fears will manifest themselves. hells bells will wail and i'll be jailed in tears kill it. the toxic thought process got my conscious filled with all kinds of nonsense the kind thats constant the onset of monsters stompin i wanna get out of myself but its myself that i'm locked in step outside of the circle repeating i am just a combination of decisions drivin by self will's incision intermitting with the crisp glittering of pre-written disposition listen cuz i'm spitting as a witness to this schism between the self and the system i walk in line with the rhyme but it's time the i find a witness so listen up cuz i'm puttin rhymes in your cups and my words i'm linen 'em up so drink it up and get a glimpse of the spirit moving i'm grooving and not boozing not losing my time getting high fly to the altitude of the suit up show up grow up things not the screw up too drunk throw up things i'm a new creation the old it is so gone i don't want to hold on like thighs without gold bond. i roll on like dice on the sidewalk i park my bike next to a mic so it's amplified when i talk i'm just a man saying get free i live free from the things that had make me sickly and his hand was the damage plan that would lift me up to the surface to flourish and to get rid of these crazy ways of livin breaking out of a prison checking out of a system mister how could i miss it. kiss it goodbye listen cuz my mission is to be spittin so eyes get stripped of blindfolds an intervention of the spiritual get with the miracle especially if you're restless discontented or irritable here i go on a roll with the syllables uncontrollable literal i'm unfolding these golden flows like a waterfall ****secret song**** "Get Free" (starts at 4:56, will appear on the full length album set do be released at the end of this year) i’m just a person just a word inside this versatile immersion of rhythm and verses served to connect the earth with a burst of color, and texture, the light that you find that mentors reminding our minds that finding the time to ignite our centers, our spirits, our hearts and our eyes, the fire the ember is crucial for us to enter into a state of surrender. to the higher power, big light, fire power, our minds devour whatever feeds the ego, so find the power, to seperate, and divide the sour from sweet and let the showers of divinity grow humility it’s the c-h-r-i-s c-o-n-d-e and i spittin my experience til i die on the m-i-c my raps are attacking the status quo that has latched all their blackend shackles attached to collapse our souls that’s how it goes when the world we live in is ruled by the corporations of nations, we’re numbers not faces to ‘em. so let my poems dethrone the kings of your own thinking cuz we alone atone for the things we see think and hear and speak, delete all the lies that creep deep in, get on your feet, put both hands to the sky then breathe deep in cuz i believe in a reason to live besides we being a dollar sign, a consumer, a customer repeating the same old thing til we die, a fable played to our eyes, a cradle grave they devise, we have to start believing when i say get free y’all say stay free i’m just a human just a student just livin life and infusing my life experience, vitamins violins to this music, i insist that we climb and get higher to try and get redefined to ignite the light that resides in enlightened kids so let’s try. examine the damage of vanity, how it manifests how it wraps up inside our identity, and we let it be free to roam and it grow and never ceases before it creeps into everything that make say or think SO we must discuss our own lusts and trust in guts that the crust can get chucked if all of us push back the dust and the clumps that fuckin disrupt the love downward thrust from up and above i’m bustin these rough raps. my mustache, my beard and my tats, my prose, and my flow glows cuz i own my craft, i wanna inspire the gifts that you didn’t know you had, create and produce something beautiful for you to last, it’s mathematical, radical acrobatical tactical latch to the back of a fire cracker mechanical animal addict and i will ramble on til run out of ammo or til my sandals unsalvageable or my raps arn’t flammable. this is my thesis my reason for waking up everyday for painting my pieces, I want to stand naked before you show my weakness. so that maybe all my scars can be all your teachers

about

Written and produced over the course of 5 years, "Twisted Kite Strings" is basically several journal entries documenting a journey into, through, and out of hardcore drug abuse and alcoholism.

credits

released March 27, 2015

“Fauxtoes” and “Giraffever” produced by Angel Marcloid
“Strange Blanket" produced by Marcus “Lel” Daniels
“Something in the water”, “Night Guitars”, and “Circles” produced by
Chris Conde and Edwin J. Stephens. All vocals recorded by Edwin J. Stephens and Chris Conde. Final mix and master for all tracks by Edwin J. Stephens at Ashby House in San Antonio, Texas

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Chris Conde San Antonio, Texas

As an openly queer rapper, Chris Conde combines the classically detached spheres of hip hop, indie rock and avant-garde experimental art punk of the drag variety. In his sometimes hysterical but always poignant bars, Conde strives to relate to his audience through an honest communication of his personal narrative of overcoming drug addiction, internalized homophobia and self-acceptance. ... more

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