Kurt Cobain rajo bastante de Peal Jam en su epoca, no le gustaban nada. Tambien cambiaba de grupo favorito cada mes, pero la verdad es que el tio tenia bastante buen gusto, y a muchos se los llevaba de gira, Teenage Fanclub, por ejemplo.
Chemi Cansino
Cantidad de envíos : 7441 Localización : I'm freaking out Fecha de inscripción : 08/03/2008
Bueno yo no lo tengo tan claro. Kim Gordon es una defensora a ultranza de la teoria de la conspiracion que dice que Courtney Love asesino a Kurt Cobain, la leyenda dice que con la cantidad de caballo que habia en su cuerpo era imposible que el tipo hubiese podido sostener una pistola....
Bueno yo no lo tengo tan claro. Kim Gordon es una defensora a ultranza de la teoria de la conspiracion que dice que Courtney Love asesino a Kurt Cobain, la leyenda dice que con la cantidad de caballo que habia en su cuerpo era imposible que el tipo hubiese podido sostener una pistola....
no puedo poner tildes sorry.
Yo tambien soy de esa opinion... Pero yoko Ono dejala ir... menuda arpia.... era una escopeta no?
The_End Cansino
Cantidad de envíos : 18145 Localización : En el límite del bien y del mal Fecha de inscripción : 07/02/2008
Fell asleep late, neon buzz PTS stress, we do drugs City air strange, sticky lungs Mayor Doomburg gives no funds And I'm crying Call out with a fiendish ring Broken into smithereens Everything's exactly how it seems And it would seem that I am crying
In a world super duper whores the kids just want a little more Little tycos do the bloody mind sex with a veteran's decor And I'm crying So when I step in the stop frame I became pure BK 'Cause I grew up on the krazy kings and inhaled second hand spray And I'm crying Where the walls talk your defiances and alliances were made With a fugitive dash after class to harass the gods of fame And I'm crying And the goons that I collude with on this rude shit same way And will break a crab down in public just to manipulate their pain And I'm crying
Why should I be sober when god is so clearly dusted out his mind? With cherubs puffing a bundle tryna remember why he even tried Down here it's 30% every year to fund the world's end But I'm broke on atlantic ave tryna cop the bootleg instead Pure savage established hard rock talk circa '93 proof Walked the high road to infinity with simily truant moves When the wandering ration line derails, I steal food Maybe tread where the sidewalk hawks look alive and hide tools On a bed that someone else made Tryna wait for the next boot And it drops when you took prime-time hellemundo off mute Old folks say "time to build" But demolition pays more loot Rip patch from your hazmat suit Slip past with an odd bop (woop!) El-Producto, sorta strange They say he stares at you, long range Perhaps he's looking past us all with his thousand yard gaze And I'm crying And he sees how MC's became contorted with their own lives And went from battle rap to gun talk Like we ain't notice the change (yeah, right)
It's the city I broke down in The velour couture township Where they lost the rock box batteries and forgot how shit was founded And I'm crying Critics all see me twisted They don't get my whole existence An actual b-boy brainiac who'll slap you out your mittens And I'm crying
Now, I feel that motherfuckers owe me dap for contributing actual raps That's not a construct for the radio on that plasticince path I'll be your homie Bust through the dolby lonely All cast aside and homely Wildly pour chrome eat of vigilante words Insert hurt in a dome-piece And the last of all I have is yours, now surrendered nice and calmly As a tot played on a block of bricks and double dutched with the zombies I'll rip your squad in nothing but a cock ring a pair of puerto-rock dunks I built the bag that cats will drown in when the water's colored rust And the last thought that I had in the back of the little bus Was of a Oklahoma city flair through kiddy flesh, fade to dust Move me with, little soldier bitty We'll cloak and dagger the city We'll hope to stagger magnificence till the pattern of blasphemy's quitting And I keep my meaning tucked deep so y'all creepers give me some privacy Don't ask for something literal from a child of secrety society There's a position to be filled, you fucking assholes Keep your eye on me But save your precious advice 'Cause all my life everyone's lied to me And I'm crying
Fell asleep late, neon buzz PTS stress, we do drugs City air strange, sticky lungs Mayor Doomburg gives no funds And I'm crying Call out with a fiendish ring Broken into smithereens Everything's exactly how it seems And it would seem that I am crying
fat Cansino
Cantidad de envíos : 11534 Edad : 42 Fecha de inscripción : 05/02/2008
A todos los que no vais al PS por los éxamanes me gustaría deciros algo. Dejad los exñamenes porque para i rdirectos al paro ya habrá tiempo, disfrutad del festival y apretad en septiembre es mejor estar estudiando aun siendo un abuelo que acabar pronto y suplicar trabajo en cualquier estercolero. Un saludo
A todos los que no vais al PS por los éxamanes me gustaría deciros algo. Dejad los exñamenes porque para i rdirectos al paro ya habrá tiempo, disfrutad del festival y apretad en septiembre es mejor estar estudiando aun siendo un abuelo que acabar pronto y suplicar trabajo en cualquier estercolero. Un saludo
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