Brooklyn indie/experimental hip hop collective Blue Belt released the music video for E.Y.B. (eff yr blog) along with their self-titled debut album. Listen to their technology influenced 15 track album, and you’ll quickly find out they don’t sound like your typical hip hop artist. Not only do they have a unique sound, but they also have their own unique look. In the music video E.Y.B., the quartet busts up some empty boxes atop the rooftops of New York. You can tell these guys are having fun. Although O-Zi, D1G1, Boss Frog, and Jamrod don’t look the part, you can’t deny their skills on the mic. You can download their full album below:
If you’re in the New York area, Blue Belt has their album release party on Saturday, July 30, 2011 in Brooklyn, NY at 680 Franklin Avenue at 9 pm.
E.Y.B. by Blue Belt (contains profanity)
Lyrics to E.Y.B. by Blue Belt
Hello, my name is robby moto,
Year of the dragon style so komodo,
Hiss, ima eat yo burrito,
Unless I’m not hungry ima pass,
I can do whatever I want if my mind wills it,
I can eat a tin can or bend a metal skillet,
– walk dogs while a narrator spills it,
Commute for two hours, one stop past mets-willet,
Cough, now we getting to it,
Seein through o-zi’s eyes, no disguise,
The veil’s been thrown and the throne’s grown old,
Two thousand leven and the future’s so cold, (so cold)
– rap personal, f*ck I’m cursable,
f*ck, your, blog and the pub-lic curse it all,
– My curtain call’s closed for most of y’all,
– I can take it but I won’t for get it all,
Confident in the fact that I’m confident
Call me Bruce lee, (what?) bitch that’s a compliment,
cause my race predicates on my confidence,
i’m new cognizance, i’m old college kids.
Lyric says a lot of things but my beats big,
Love bot hit the drum like a beat king,
– Rap for him cause he’s busy doin’ his thing,
His wing’s clipped when the beat clips, unison.
– O why is my name o- zi?
O why does a chicken have two thighs?
Why you tell me dumb shit, pass it as advice?
Think about it once before you think about it twice,
I’m a no slow man, you’re a slowbro-
chief blogotron, king of the dojo?
you’re just a pokemon, you can catch me solo,
movin cross the scene in my slow mo kimono.
Did you really think this song is about you?
if you did then this song is about YOU,
o-zi, digi (hi!) internet kids,
if you don’t think you like this it goes something like this,
f*ck your blog bitch, fuckyourblogbitchfuckyougrbohogugj…
hi Rob, why you actin all aggy?
don’t you know I’m on my info aggre-
gation? say a blogger nags me
all it does it make me slightly less happy
but I’m an evergreen, and that’s a sapling
I’m Dogfort, and that’s a cat, b
if you’re sweeter than sap you’re sappy
if you get the rap then you get the latchkey
welcome to the sunroom, duh dude
my mind is a mansion, plenty grub food
plenty love, too, plenty monks, too
with the illest garden like “aw shucks, boo”
geranium cranium, plus tu-
lips n shit, this is it, this is what I’m up to
this is how I duck truth, this is how I fluctu-
ate, blogger ass motherfucker I do not trust you
swag surf the internet with a rare swag
listen to The-Dream croon about a rare bag
five stacks before you get to pull the hair back
like “dag, I didn’t know you naired that”
fantasy dream, D1G D, Pierre Pan
in reverse, that’s my curse, weird, man
welcome to the ugly, welcome to the weird half
man who cares? who really wants to hear that?
it’s easier to spit some shit that’s frivolous
like “Digit is, the illest, bitch”
like “Digit lips, lick the nipple tits”
rather than spit some shit that’s self-libelous
here’s another little kid lyricist
limited in thinking that lyrics is unlimited
listen, kid, get help, that’s ridiculous
like saying that the body is where the spirit is