by Skrillex
<p>OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL, LTD.The infinite Skrillifiles: Next Generation— Quantum Force </p> <p>[Series V.V] </p> <p> </p> <p>Following: The Infinite Skrillifiles - SERIES V) </p> <p> </p> <p>{Enter The Multiverse} </p> <p> </p> <p>[The Festival Project.™]</p> <p> </p> <p>COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©</p> <p><br><br></p> <p>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © </p> <p> </p> <p>-Ū.</p> <p><br>™ The Original.™ </p> <p> </p>
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🇺🇲
Publishing Since
9/13/2021
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April 21, 2025
God? Prod. by Blū Tha Gürü. ( -Ũ.) Composed/Lyrics by C'cxell Soleïl I don't care at all. I don't care at all. What is your name? Where are you now? Why are you here? What are you bout? Is it for fame? Is it for clout? What is your name? Are you a God? Why are you here? What are you bout? Is it for fame? Is it for clout? (/Are you a clown?) Why are you here for? Where are you now? What is your name? Are you a God? What do you fear? Where are you now? What is your name (I'm on a Cloud) Where are you now (Are you a God?) What are you here for? (I'm not a God!) Where are you now? What is your name? Are you a God? Are you a God (I am a God) What is your name? (I am a God) What is your name? (I am a God/ I'm not a God) Are you a God? (I'm on a cloud Are you a God? (I am a God) What is your name? (I don't want to talk about it) What is your name? (Tears of a Clown) (I don't want to talk about it) Are you a God? (I don't want to talk about it. I'm a God. (I don't want to talk about it.) RYAN REYNOLDS (as ‘BUTTERS') …looloo… STAN God, shut up, butters! BUTTERS I can't! I sing when I'm nervous! KYLE Shutup. BUTTERS Looloo— KYLE Come on, butters! Quiet! … [beat] BUTTERS …looo— *!#*^!!!! [The Festival Project ™] Get Lady Gaga off that horse! I'm incognito You're in my his[tory] Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019 ™ All Rights Reserved. C'cxell Soleïl
April 21, 2025
Nobody put baby in a corner In the blue light, I deny you Why ask if you're alright When I'm still crumpled up behind you All publicity Stint My growth is altered I want love You i don't know how To I am a monster I am a monster Joel I am a monster Make me feel Holy lighti I divide my lifht Between Divine And Denial So I deny it Denial I hide you Why Cause I like you Let's blow things all out of proportion Media media Publicity stunt And a drunken stupor I got my God at Coachella night one I got my blinders on I got a knife in my pocket A1 steak sauce anyone Well done, Harper Well done, Onyx Now where goes the dolomite! Lodestones I lost one Carry on Four kings My stream of conciousness rocks out My people are earth and your people You see that? Reach out I'm only a comic, comet Reach out! I'm in denial No conciousness Alright? Harper Long road High Road Short ones. You like Tall blondes I like Waffles You know? Can't we all suffer morbidly? (I'm in denial) Write one Right one Higher up off the red carpet I'm looking for something? Nothing, Internet shopping, A long road The more would have I The more horrible I am a monster I am a monster I am a monster Devil next door, and I I am a monster I am a monster And one And one And one I sent an angel Or five I'm a monster I'm in denial I am a monster Bloody conciousness I'm in denial So I deny Monster So I deny it all Encore! Encore! Run the score up Could be anything you know Bloody stream of conciousness Bloody streams and —leave it up, then I do not believe it Pandemic, Actors and then Publicity stunts for nothing Robbers. I'm not even good enough to be good enough for you. Morbid. I made Billie Ellish laugh so hard, The whole world noticed; Then everybody wanted to know me, Numbers, She goes, “I love electronic music” I said, “I have a lot of it.” But I thought Not nearly enough of it, I thought Not nearly enough, I think. Not nearly enough What did you do with six cinder blocks And Stop it What did you do with six bricks And a fortune What do you with with my Headache? Stop it? I want nothing more than an encore, I told them An encore, I said Not the Renaissance Encore I promise: As awkward as it all got It's coming up For once my stream of conciousness Is into something Lover lover lover Keep them coming Roll the dice and Tell me something, Schubert Tell me something, Harvard Tell me something Tell me something Science Why I don't like you I watch the tonight show. I try to find you But find her And her and her At night I dream of him Joel Her And her and her Wanted a lover A show Her and her and her A son and a daughter A mode Her and her and her Here and there and on again I know her and her and her I like Her and her and her I love Her and her and her I know her and her and her I am her and her and her I wonder what would become of us All And the body Were we not so old Scrap metal Carry on while I call my son And wonder what in God Was left after us Hostile motive Wonder wonder I've got nothing left to ponder I want Mark God Dawn Nah Nothing kept secret left Ponder what, helmet Tell you what, Talmud I like the host of the what's it called Danger show Brothel Brothel Opera Opera May Day May Day May is coming So I August I want nothing more Than the great big mouse on magic mountain How's that? … Sam? Flatline? Don't leave us. Encore. Where's he going? Nothing. Awful. I've been drinking. How about not? And well, we're all against the tide when ocean's coming Aren't I, Hollywood? Great big swell and a sailboat Ugh, why am I mad?! That's the old goat! Rock and Roller. Hall of fame god. Prostitots and brothels Some chord and three thousand year old Google documents What you want us! All I was worth was A special on $200, just under What did you want? An umbrella? I told you, the shit show was coming now Cry me a river! Cry me a river! Cry me a river! New York was a sold out show In all non concious conformists Look at God Go. I was all at the surface Sure you wanted a Harper A harpist Pianist and I've got suffering! Call my son back! I've got window pains And window panes And widows makes the none of us I might as well have died when I lost I might as well have died when I lost her — oh, but the husband had already had Her and her and her So no father was he to a daughter And she went beyond that, Calling for brother. Now who are I? Emotionally immature maggots. I sank ships over hatred I called mayday belatedly I show off in Morse code in a mouse head Now who's the helmet!! Now who's the— [BLACKOUT] [The Festival Project ™] Jimmy murmured somethin bout Joel Pilot took a plunge Now the old Rock is 1 for the 1 one Minus President Trump In the back of the car But if I pop the trunk Then we all have a gun in each hand, Huh punk? One for the road Bottle full of sauce I called the boss for the map And we all got lost on the run Interstate map as old as The all of us totaled up What does infinite cost? Two humps and a Tesla? Some hummas? A couple of rocks, and some hot sauce? All got a gun And we all got a God Can't we all get along Backroads, no Feds So it's all gonna cost Got a cot for the tour And a word for the world And a heart full of gold And a house full of fire Can't we all get a long Now we all got a God Call Conan, We all got a hook and a rod Call God, brah Nobody the friend to the world And we all got a girl And they all got problems Now we got a car On a train up a mountain A coin in the fountain A gun in each hand And a phone card Somebody call the opera Or better yet, Harpo, long God Long time We all got a song Somebody mumbled The troll to a hall far A hymn to a poem And a bump on a log Timber timber We all got garages Timber timber We all got a gun Timber timber We all got windfalls Windmills Blond dykes Klondikes Assholes Mayday Long trucks All got blondes All got a God All got a soul All made of gold And we all got goals here, miners Mumble the words of the poem Somebody left a voicemail At one point, though We all had a mom At one point though, We all had a blonde At one point, though we all got a God At one point though, We all got a song Now all we got is cars Long roads And guns At one point, though, We all got along At one point though We all fell in love At one point though we all had a Mom Now I'm so polar Bearr's on the run But we all got a song And we all got a thought And we all got God Now we all get along In the cars With the guns On the road With the blondes Cause we all got a song And we all got Moms And they all got blonde hair Moms got a gun, Hey, Mom's got a song, Hey, Mom's got a son, Hey, Mom's got a thought, Hey, Mom's got a God, No, mom's just a God, Huh, That's what you want, By the light of the sun And the sound of a gun And we all got a rap And we all got problems All got long days All got wants And we all got a God, so God's got problems. — I gotta solve em. Psychic tears and solvents— What do you want Joel? I got problems, I got a son! I got ten songs out, Ten albums so far, Nobody loves them Nobody loves me, I got problems, I got nothing I got too much to really be loveless, Yet, Here I am, Just watching WHAT. Call up my son, Ask him for a joke And the weather forecast I got a whole skeletal system of broken bones And a whole body cast Castrate this diamond, Call up the tin man— Tin man?! Cowardly lion And the straw hat, Call up the — what are those? Lollipops! No, I don't want that I just want a home with some tall grass. I'm really about to whoop this girl's assless ass and she knows that. She has to. Chilling in the bath though But Can't afford a bathrobe I collect Windfall I call the dolphins Shatter that asshole Staggered on stage, then Slandered my hammer, gathered up passwords X1, aren't I? Doctor? I've probably got a straw hat Don't have a heart, though Probably just a robot Somebody tried hard Guess I need a doctor Wombat? What? She looks like a wombat. Damn, dog. Bleed! I came from the world with the no sleep Bleed! I came from the world with the bonfires! Bleed! I parked my car in the palisades. Bonfires! I parked my car in the palisades! Bonfires! I pitched my tent in the Malibu mountains! Bleed! My coworker babysat in Calabasas! Bonfires! Pig and Whistle could spin slick but still doesn't own an apartment! Apartheid! Noah died on all of the story arcs, besides ours. Non partisan! I went to work on a cold hard Monday. Daughters! I wrote the poor some porridge, and they didn't want that! Pesticides! Still a stream of conciousness? I thought he was sober! Bonfires! I got no room for my heart, SO I CUT IT OUT BLEED. Fires. BLEED! Fires. BLEEEEED. Alright, you won. I need my medicine, Medicine, medicine I neee my medicine… Who are I, God? I need my medicine, medicine Medicine— I need my Really, a face with the Bandit? If Seth wants the role, he can have it. Which Seth? Exactly. Bad Son. Deadmau5 Hats off— Actually, a helmet Actually, a deadman. Who cried lurking? Who calls Art Lord? Why, Sir Jyre! My art deposit's on John, man. Art world Awkward Harvard? Aavark? An assless advark. Don't stalk me when I'm hark the halrold hallmark cards and half washed alters! (The last day of Passover, Easter Sunday) Don't pseudoscience Your gross meds have no stream of conciousness at all Your meds have no conciousness at all. Why yes, I terminal hate you, Mr. famous We broke up at an airport over coffee I dream your head But never just the body That I yearn for I'm trapped inside a suffix That was earned from just a metaphor I grasp at mediocre, As Flo said “I would have aspired to be a struggling actress” I would aspire just to b an arifaft A sanctioned little blonde In front row VIP With the pasties on Oh afterparty? Models and bottles and bodies And blondes Brunettes and redheads And a couple of ours with extensions And a dye job Long legs Court covers And awards, Having proven subtle standards set by All of yours When all I want is Hallmark cards. Hold that thought. Rinse out the conditioner Do you get the picture or not?! I don't live here! Do you remember the fact that I've been here Just a minute in my time— Into you! It's infinite forever. Forever, we'll. Forever. Ten minutes in and I don't remember any of it. Ten mirrors ten men and ten hammers, the hammer. Ten tonsils, ten fingers, ten toes and my hall award Ten helmets, ten cars in garages Ten mortals Attention, attention I've written a symphony! Attention, attention! I'm living in misery! Attention, attention, My toys in my toolbox: Attention, attention, My girls and my others Attention? Attention! I'm ten minutes into this Attention, attention. I bet you'll remember this. Mission accomplished? Yes, major. Detective. Agent. But I won't. No, I'm not okay. I'll never hold my baby again. No, what's my shoe size? Too grand? So I hideaway Then, I'm a Marxist, Forgot my own mantras I'm probably home, But no address to mark it Off the map Off the grid What's I miss Nothing much here Contact works Contact breaks Contact lenses Like my hazels? Like my blue eyes? Are they gorgeous? Still, I'm darker Forge the caverns, Then, there's this flaw: Seven numbers You're just like God, Only darker What harm have I brought you? Called your wind Nothing but heartache Cried Agatha, a moan And then I will go, Becoming nameless in code and essence Where willI—? And then nothing at all? As one ceases to be, So the the other; The tale before time Of immortal lovers I'm incognito You're in my his[tory] Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019 ™ All Rights Reserved. C'cxell Soleïl
April 21, 2025
I realized I had the ability to get really skinny, really fast. First, this just required me running out of rice. And pancakes. Shouldn't be hard. I've met emotional turmoil and rigid complete unconscious with the ripening fruit of need and desire in unideal environmental circumstances. Shouldn't be hard at all. Tales of a Superstar DJ Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019 ™ All Rights Reserved. C'cxell Soleïl
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