We expect nothing more from Pulitzer prize people

  • Kendrick Lamar’s music award for lyrics that read like a porn script 
  • What frauds
  • From yellow journalism to purple prose set to purely synthetic “music”
  • Pulitzer defining the culture

30-year-old rapper Kendrick Lamar just made history by scoring a Pulitzer Prize for his album ‘Damn’ 

Not even CNN would consider it prudent to actually print the lyrics from the playlist on the Kendrick Lamar album receiving the award, perhaps especially the much heralded item “Humble”on the album. It is left to us.  Behold what gets such prestigious awards.

Humble Lyrics      by Pulitzer Prize winner Kendrick Lamar

Hol’ up, bitch) sit down

(Hol’ up lil’ bitch, hol’ up lil’ bitch) be humble
(Hol’ up, bitch) sit down
(Sit down, hol’ up, lil’ bitch)
Be humble (bitch)
(Hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up) bitch, sit down
Lil’ bitch (hol’ up, lil’ bitch) be humble
(Hol’ up, bitch) sit down
(Hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up) be humble
(Hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, lil’ bitch) sit down
(Hol’ up lil’ bitch) be humble
(Hol’ up, bitch) sit down
(Hol’ up, sit down, lil’ bitch)
(Sit down, lil’ bitch, be humble)
(Hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, lil’ bitch) bitch, sit down
(Hol’ up, bitch) be humble
(Hol’ up, bitch) sit down
(Hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up)

Who dat nigga thinkin’ that he frontin’ on man, man? (Man, man)
Get the fuck off my stage, I’m the Sandman (Sandman)
Get the fuck off my dick, that ain’t right
I make a play fuckin’ up your whole life
I’m so fuckin’ sick and tired of the Photoshop 
Show me somethin’ natural like afro on Richard Pryor
 Show me somethin’ natural like ass with some stretchmarks 
Still will take you down right on your mama’s couch in Polo socks, ayy 
This shit way too crazy, ayy, you do not amaze me, ayy
I blew cool from AC, ayy, Obama just paged me, ayy 
I don’t fabricate it, ayy, most of y’all be fakin’, ayy 
I stay modest ’bout it, ayy, she elaborate it, ayy
 This that Grey Poupon, that Evian, that TED Talk, ayy
Watch my soul speak, you let the meds talk, ayy 
If I kill a nigga, it won’t be the alcohol, ayy 
I’m the realest nigga after all, bitch, be humble

(Hol’ up, bitch) sit down
(Hol’ up lil’ bitch, hol’ up lil’ bitch) be humble
(Hol’ up, bitch) sit down
(Sit down, hol’ up, lil’ bitch) 
Be humble (bitch) 
(Hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up) bitch, sit down 
Lil’ bitch (hol’ up, lil’ bitch) be humble
( Hol’ up, bitch) sit down 
(Hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up) be humble
 (Hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, lil’ bitch) sit down 
(Hol’ up lil’ bitch) be humble
 (Hol’ up, bitch) sit down 
(Hol’ up, sit down, lil’ bitch) 
(Sit down, lil’ bitch, be humble) 
(Hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, lil’ bitch) bitch, sit down
 (Hol’ up, bitch) be humble
 (Hol’ up, bitch) sit down
 (Hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up)

The prize winning album includes this song for the ages, soon to be in elevators and grocery stores: Lust

I need some water
Somethin’ came over me
Way too high to simmer down
Might as well overheat
Too close to comfort
That blood rush my favorite thing
Heart beat racin’ like a junkie’s
I just need you to want me
Am I askin’ too much?
Let me put the head in
Ooh, I don’t want more than that
Girl, I respect the cat
I promise just a touch
Let me put the head in
“It’s okay,” she said, “It’s okay”

eah, I need everybody’s motherfuckin’ hands up right now
I need everybody’s motherfuckin’
Door and his Nike Air Rattles
 Rush the fire exit, no time for battles
 Well I, I never expected
 This that new, new shit
This that new, new shit

Wake up in the mornin’ thinkin’ ’bout money, kick your feet up
 Watch you a comedy, take a shit, then roll some weed up
Go hit you a lick, go fuck on a bitch
 Don’t go to work today, cop you a fit
 Maybe some cakes and make you 
Door in his Nike Air Rattles
Rush the fire exit, no time for battles 
Well I, I never expected
 Wake up in the mornin’ thinkin’ ’bout money, kick your feet up
 Watch you a comedy, hol’ up
 Wake up in the mornin’ thinkin’ ’bout money, kick your feet up
 Watch you a comedy, take a shit, then roll some weed up
 Go hit you a lick, go fuck on a bitch, don’t go to work today 
Cop you a fit or maybe some kicks and make it work today
 Hang with your homies, stunt on your baby mama
 Sip some lean, go get a pistol, shoot out the window
 Bet your favorite team, play you some Madden 
Go to the club, or your mama house
 Whatever you doin’ just make it count
 I need some water 
Wake up in the mornin’ thinkin’ ’bout money, kick your feet up
 Hop in the shower, put on your makeup, lace your weave up 
Touchin’ yourself, call up your nigga, tell him he ain’t shit 
Credit card scam, get you a Visa, make him pay your rent
 Hop on the ‘gram, flex on the bitches that be hatin’ on you
 Pop you a pill, call up your bitches, have ’em waitin’ on you
 Go to the club, have you some fun, make that ass bounce
 It’s whatever, just make it count

We will reset the line spacing later today, as if it matters.    R Mall and DLH

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One Response to We expect nothing more from Pulitzer prize people

  1. Eugene Mattecheck Jr says:

    And a thousand more just as egregious…or worse.

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