Check your head. A wonderfully surreal mix of electronica, hip hop and punk by the Dublin artist packed with strange sounds, beats and witty, caustically angry lyrics about modern life in his city and society. It’s also the title track of his forthcoming album, out in June. Kojaque, aka Kevin Smith is not only an Irish rapper but also studied fine art in Dublin Institute of Technology and is also a film-maker. As well as the song and the very entertaining video, to enjoy more of his work, check out his Bandcamp page, which is also embedded below.
I just got my head kicked in
Tryna buy a bit of smoke
Cause my face didn’t look the way it should have when I paid him
Drank 6 tins, just to get the head straight
Pulla straight, spittin' in the cold
Wish I had have bate him
Patience
Had the bookie bet and then I went and got notions
Had to cheat the dealer got my nose bust open
Fed up of the system still broken
Tried to open up and people took it like a joke then
Fed up of the “My da’d punch 'round your da”
If I ever found mine I’d
Punch him 'round for ya
Dwellin' on the past
Got my present in a corset
Pony on the dashboard
Bookie bound, floor it
Life’s that thing that ya do when ya can’t face pintin'
Head up in a bucket, teeth grindin'
Tried to buzz a buddy
Better luck I’d strike lightning
They all settled down or moved out or quit fighting
Are you an expat? Sell patsy?
Have a da that’s a keyboard Nazi?
You could be the big shot, 'round campus
Help gentrify the flats to the Hamptons
You could try the house share, try rentin'
Bit of money for the landlord’s pension
Heads are gonna roll soon, no warning
This town’s not dead it’s just dormant
Are you an expat? Sell patsy?
Have a da that’s a keyboard Nazi?
You could be the big shot, 'round campus
Help gentrify the flats to the Hamptons
You could try the house share, try rentin'
Bit of money for the landlord’s pension
Heads are gonna roll soon, no warning
My town’s not dead it’s just dormant
Now the corpos knockin' down the flats
Just to build a few gaffs
Just to fill 'em with some triple barrel surnames
Door frame wouldn’t fit the halo on your head
Tell ya butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth 'round your way
Wanna be a real big deal like Christ or Brexit
Give the mission statement no one gets it
Restless
Made a bit of money
Not enough to live from it
Just enough that all my buddys think I’m gonna get the next drink
Call, don’t text it
Message all criptic
“When you coming up I wanna duck and watch Netflix”
Aww wait, fixed it
Had it in predictive
Walkin' 'round the city with my mug up in her necklace
Risque texts from the pub relentless
Gee-eyed, squintin at the screen like sent it
When I get big, Imma ditch this kip
Big swig for the minute getting sick up on the exit.
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