john eff kennedy

john eff kennedy

BandHip Hop

john eff kennedy ("jay eff kay") is the american everydude who quit his job on wall street to become a rapper.

Biography

jay eff kay is your typical american dude. born in the city, moved to suburbia, went to college, worked a tedious desk job on wall street. then one day, he decided the american dream was a scam and continuing to pursue it would only result in his suicide (via letter-opener to the temple) or his showing up at work one day with a m-16 and having an "incident." why not just rap and spend your days trolling the internet for milfs instead? so, he went AWOL.

jay eff is known for his masterfully written lyrics of outrage, desperation, and threesomes with Starbucks Baristas which are his trademark. his songs are a careful balance of the cerebral (politics, social criticism, conspiracy theories) and the juvenile (tequila shots, fat girls, beating up yuppies); the violent and the sexual; the humorous and the pissed-off.

Jay eff's "Trina" was a winner in the 2005 Billboard Song Contest. He has been featured on VH1's White Rapper Show, E!'s Talk Soup, gawker.com, and collegehumor.com and has been called "Fight Club without the Club" (Hartford Advocate). He has appeared at NXNE and BB King's in NYC among other venues.

Jay eff spent most of 2006 working on a forthcoming double album.

Lyrics

'Trina

Written By: john eff kennedy

‘Trina

(this song was written and recorded in one day on Sept. 11th, 2005 as a visceral response to Hurrican Katrina and its aftermath)

[Sampled News Clips]

Day one: that dyke Katrina
hits the Gulf Coast like Ike hit Tina.
Day two, day three: not much happened.
I mean, noone’s acting or reacting
like more than a couple windows got smashed in.
Nobody’s really saying the levy’s collapsed in
or how all these families who couldn’t leave is trapped in
the Superdome, and on second stories
and how the water’s coming up to the necks of shorties.
No electricity, no food or water.
Your baby daughter’s
breathing – but, shit, Grandma’s not!
Meanwhile, Condies fucking seeing Spamalot?!

[Sampled News Clips]

Day four: the Mayor interviews & cusses.
“You gotta send some troops and we could use some busses.
It's a huge disaster.
Feds, move your asses.”
But then, while the cooks in the kitchen waited and debated,
the situation aggravated.
The convention center's half morgue, half crack den;
girls raped in the same places people crapped in.
There's people shooting and there's people looting.
And by the way, if you took water, then that's justified
But if what you took is Prada, then you just should die.
There's bloated bodies on a putrid ocean,
explosions -- people are losing hope and
Condie's at the US Open? Damn.

[Sample News Clips]

Day 5: Bush finally pays a visit.
And, fuck, if that ain't late, what is it?
He says “we'll rebuild” -- Mr. President,
there's still people dying; this is present tense!
Meanwhile, the rest of the politicians
just want to talk about: “whose fault is this?”
Shut up! Some chem plant's just blown up
and sho' nuff
those busses still ain't shown up.
And that night, while rats nibbled skeletons,
Hollywood had a telethon. What the hell is wrong?
Kanye states that Bush hates blacks
but he cared about them on September 11th;
guess the difference is those blacks worked for Merrell Lynch.
So, I guess there's a relationship
between how fast you get saved and if
you can donate to campaigns. Shit.

[Sampled News Clips]

This brings me to my conclusion.
On day six, the Feds got troops,
and got moving
and in the week since there's been improvement:
people rescued off of roofs and
autobussed in to Houston.
Water level's reducing.
And I'm glad we got here -- but I'm livid that
it took too long, we got to live with that.
Actually, fuck that -- these people got to live with that.
But, let's move on, got to press on kids.
And as we do, what I'm fucking stressing is
what wasted effort this
relief effort is
if we can't learn what Katrina's lesson is:
all those fucking people who has no home
except some shitty mattress in the astrodome
will not be helped just by relocation
to some shitty city in another state when
they’ll still be poor as fuck with no education.
And it ain’t gonna help just to rebuild New Orleans
a city already poor when
Katrina stormed in.
Just go back to the crack sales, unemployment?
If this ‘cane didn’t kill them, then the next one will
or diabetes or drug addiction will
or gangs or malnutrion will.
Whether they living in Yonkers or Mission Hill,
what kills these people ain’t some storm which is
named after some foreign bitch;
it’s the difference in this country between poor and rich.
That's life in America for the underclasses;
and that, my friends, is something disasterous.

Bomb The Hamptons (Celeb Remix)

Written By: jay eff kay

Celebrities! This ain't one of ashton's punkings --
I wanna see your heads explode like smashing pumpkins.
Cause, America, something's giving us an itchy anus
and I think it's nicole ritchie and the rich and famous.

And if we wanna cut these fucking genital warts off,
we got to go in just like we General Schwarzkopf.
So, let's stop bombing Fallujah & Kabul
& let's start bombing julia & ja rule.

Let the missiles hunt down kirsten dunst;
leave the simpson sisters in a twisted bunch;
tom cruise & the scientologists in chunks.
I want moby gone; adrien brody gone; naomi gone.

If we could just bomb goldie hawn's
summer home til it glows neon
like the hair on the blonde chick kobe's on,
I'd be happier than angelina jolie's thong.

[Chorus]

First, hit those mansions -- there's richard branson's
and jennifer anistons, and matt leblanc's.
It's like an episode of friends, but with battle tanks
shooting courteney cox in the back point-blank.

We guide a smart bomb down the chimney
and up the ass of oprah winfrey.
Unload on britney, and the baby she's carrying
pops out the bullet wounds, it's like a caesarian.

Hit the krispy kremes that mariah carey's in.
There's like a million gyllenhaals, kill em all.
jerry seinfeld's like 'what's the deal
with this land mind filling my nuts with steel?'

And it's beyonce's destiny to be
mowed down by these F-15s.
We shot up andy roddick and we left 50
with 9 more bullets in his chest & teeth.

[Chorus]

Holy shit! I just took out one of jolie's kids
one of the cambodians; brad pitt's totally pissed.
we got predator drones hitting senator's homes
and a pack of Apaches goes after ashley.

Now, where's mary kate? 'um, she's in the rehab clinic;
she snapped and relapsed and she's back in it.'
well, go get that fuckin skeleton, then let's go get elton john.
then, I wanna see tara reid's mascara bleed

while she and paris plead
for their lives on Al Jazeera screens. [beheading sounds]
hilary duff is dancing on p diddy's yacht.
blam! she gets her titties shot (damn, that chick's an idiot).

michael moore's at a film festival
snipe off all six chins, then his testicals.
bono's giving speeches bout africans
and I put another bullet in ben affleck's shins.

When the night falls, everybody's busy clubbin
back the Abrams tank right over lizzie grubman.
who's that starlet dancin on the bar? it's
lindsay lohan. boom! that ho's gone.

star jones is getting drunk with usher --
she's so big, we might need a bunker buster.
hit the yoga classes of all the a-lists.
leave bloody stumps with kabbalah bracelets!

College (Try It)

Written By: JFK

College, try it.
If your sports teams win, riot.
Don't hit the books, hit the bars.
If you're sports team wins, flip some cars.

In college, there's lots to do.
There's lots of hippie box to bruise
and lots of shots of schnappes to do.
Just don't ever think about how much it's costing you

And how you paying for the ball team's prostitutes.
What's taught to you? Shit about dead waspy dudes.
Study hard? Naw, you ain't into that.
You got cut & paste & the internet.

4 years is how long it's s'posed to last.
What are you smoking crack? I ain't even close to that.
I'll be here for a half decade
before I even figure out how to tap the keg.

Man, all these chicks look pregnant
but it ain't from the raw dog, it's from the keg stands.
And I thank God for affirmative action.
!t let me put my sperm into latins!

[Chorus]

So, you're living with some vegan dude
and some frat boy who shaves his pubes.
He rushed Beta Nu they hazed and made him do
and old billy goat in the anus. [goat: eewww].

You're taking history of women's lib
with a bunch of chicks dumber than Jess Simpson is.
When the professor asks what you're opinion is:
"They're good for rolling joints and putting jissums in?"

Hit the libararies? Naw, you can't 'cause
one night you snuck in two Lamdas
and slammed them harder than your final exams was
right in front of two security cameras.

The story that you tell the Dean is it's your senior thesis
and "when the fat chicks double team my penis,
it's performance art."
Heh, watch for the part where the mormon farts!

[Chorus]

You're at some frat party,
sipping Ice House, checking out the fat hotties.
You just wanna fins some nasty slut
and slip some drugs in her plastic cup.

Then, when she wakes up, her a** been f**ked.
You pick one out, she's pounding on a guiness.
She puts it down a minute so you put some downers in it.
But even though you think this b**ch is a fool,

When you turn your head, she switches the brews.
You sip it...eww....
Next thing you know, you wake up,
in a wig & prostitutes' make-up.
Some six-foot-two dude's spooning you,

you got a bruised poop shoot and -- fuck! -- it's two to noon.
You slept right through your Bio final.
Look's like you'll be here for a couple more years.
Sweet! You celebrate with a couple of beers.

What's The Purpose (of Life In America)?

Written By: JFK

USA! Greatest country on earth.
So, why do we all wish we got the coat hanger before birth?
'Cause the American dream is really a scam,
like how that six-two chick with the moustached lip is really a man.

Check it out now! In this country, they say that if you work hard,
obey the laws and get good grades on your report card
you can live a life that's fulfilling & comfortable
with a big happy family like Cliff fuckin' Huxtable.

And so you do it, everything you s'posed ta.
Then then one day it hits you like a Mac Truck just bulldozed ya.
Life ain't even closed ta what they showed you in the posters.
It stinks like Lacy & the baby decomposed does!

It's all bullshit!
Why else are people popping prozac like that shit be Gummy Bears?
One big fat lie!
You'll probably realize this and blow your brains out in a couple years.

The damn truth is
American life is empty meaningless & bland, for real.
But they don't say that
and we keep running on this giant motherfuckin' hampster wheel.

[Chorus:]
What's the purpose of life in America?
I don't think there is one, I just don't think there is one.
What's the purpose of life in America?
Life a life that's horrible, then retire to Florida.

Let's check out what an American life consists of...

GO TO SCHOOL and learn shit
that's worthless so that you can't earn shit.
GET A JOB -- bust ass for idiots
who treat you like Jews do Palestinians.

GET MARRIED to someone you're sure to like.
I mean, sure to divorce and support for life.
HAVE SOME KIDS -- they're lambs til age two,
then fat fucks that you can't relate to.

BUY A HOUSE in the suburbs
where you feel trapped like jizz in rubbers.
SPEND YOUR CASH on junk that's useless.
Don't fuckin' tell me you need Jamba Juices!

EAT FATTY FOODS
like Krispy Kremes & chicken wings its sure to harden arteries.
GET REAL OBESE,
develop saggy women's breasts a double chin and heart disease.

RETIRE TO
some mobile home in Florida, get force-fed pharmaceuticals.
DIE ALONE AND
get buried in a coffin that's the same size as your cubicle.

[Chorus]

Yeah, there's never been a country this bleeding rich,
and they say all of human history leads to this --
Phraser reruns and slit teenage wrists?!
And I think it's fucked up we're so confident

We'll go into another country drop bombs in it,
try to remake them in our own bleached-blonde image,
while back home no one find's life satisfactory.
We squeezing semi-automatics at the factory.

Life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness --
it's like they gave us the first one and scrapped the rest.
Seriously, you gotta wonder why we're here --
maybe just to fight their wars and buy their beers?

Tell me, is this the direction we're headed?
Is this the lifestyle that the terrorists threaten?
If that's the case, well I wish I'd have been in
Flight 77 on September 11th. hey!

[Chorus]

Burstin Out

Written By: JFK

Here I come, and I'm burstin' out
like a ping pong ball in Bangkok squirtin' out,
when they just kinda (uh!) and (splurt!) it out,
or, maybe like a baby who reversed around

in the uterus and now he's head-firstin out
and all the pretty Filipina wet nurses shout
'cause he's covered in placenta spittin' verses out!
Anyways, this is what I'm hear to say...

America! I know you getting comfortable --
I seen you hypnotized by the way J-Lo's rump jiggles,
drool drippin' out your mouth just the way pre-cum dribbles,
so here I come tearin' up your ass like Richard Gere's bum-gerbil.

I been sent here to challenge your views
and embarrass you all like when the challenger blew
and spread that teacher's guts from here to Kalamazoo
or when Clinton covered that chick in gallons of goo!

[Chorus:]
You're fucked -- there's your state of the union.
Somebody like me's gotta be tearin' you a new one.
So, bend over & spread 'em & I ain't sparing no one.
My name is Jay Eff Kay!

Ain't nobody safe from the fallout when I drop my bombs,
from gay dads all the way to soccer moms,
and welfare folks gettin' checks to watch sitcoms.
Even NRA members got me up in arms!

Rich, poor, billionaires, whiny actors,
Conservatives whackin' dome to O'Rielly factor --
I don't discriminate!
Yeah, whether you a cracker, black or
stir fry cat meat -- ya'll might catch heat.
And it's gonna be hotter than the blood on an Iraq street.

Government censors! Put lense caps on all cameras
Churches are gonna suffer collateral damage.
And I will be kickin' in the doors to the corporate boardroom --
cruise through Capitol hill, bitch-slappin at will.

Yeah, Dubya, you betta cover up your jugular,
and I'm gonna bugger ya and I ain't stickin' round to snuggle ya.
And I'm really really gonna miss Colin Powell.
I was gonna fuck ya til ya had swollen bowels!

[Chorus]

And you better give my music credit,
'cause I been amongst the troops & sweatin',
like a reporter who's embedded,
but in a country that you're more likely to lose your head in!

I know on the surface, I'm cooler than a pack of menthols
but trust me, that illusion's accidental.
Come measure my blood pressure --
it's a higher number than the sum of
stretch marks on a Tijuana mud wrestler.

I got all this venom pent up, I'm fed up
and pissed off that the American dream is a set-up.
And most of all, I am depressed
about the career of Ryan Seacrest.

Yeah, we headed straight down into the shitter
and I'm getting cynical and full of piss & vinegar.
I'm getting pissy like R. Kelly on teenagers,
or when I paid ten bucks for Gigli with Ben & Jennifer.

And if no one else is pissed off cept me
and seeing through this shit like Crystal Pepsi,
well then bitches, I think it's necessary
for me to be on you like dingleberries on a dude who's ass is hairy.

Yet, I fear they'll misunderstand me
and want to ban this
'cause I enflame more than the Ku'ran does
with more crystal-clear raps than saran gots

But I hope you know when I mortify ya
With a little bit of friendly mortar fire
I'm doing it for your own safety, honest.
You might even say I'm being patriotic --

just serving up these couplets
as a selfless service to the public
like a priest, giving a sermon from the pulpit
except I don't wanna schtup kids.

But, write this shit down...

I'm not some fuckin' ornament
or some AOL Time-Warner wench
and I ain't here to warm the bench
or pussy out like when you mention war to French.

And don't forget...

That I'm not some pop trick
to fill spots on hot lists or some prop which
you can pose like a fag on spin mag topless
with my two nipples dipped in chocoloates!

Don't get me wrong, I'll probably like being a celebrity --
being on TRL, Oprah, shooting up the club with P. Diddy,
fuckin' models in the grottoes in the Playboy Mansion,
giving the Olsen twins a double dirty sanchez.

But, I'm here to be a fire brand, not advertise your brand
or to be in it for a minute then left discarded
like a baby in a senior prom bathroom garbage,
or wind up some loser boozin' on behind the music

drunk on rubbing alcohol in a public bathroom stall
trading gay sex for a sniff of some playtex
no, I'll be here til the ozone's grown back
maybe even longer -- til I pay my student loans back!

[Chorus]

Suburbia

Written By: Jay Eff Kay

Turn on the news some time.
You'll find the most gruesome crimes
and the fucked up shit and the raw sex
dont happen in the hoods with the projects.

It happens in the hoods with vinyl siding
and the green lawns you find inviting
and suicidal brides and albinos hiding
in attics and addict step dads in meth labs,

picking at bugs on their face & get scabs!
Twin sisters have threesome trysts with ministers
at church dinners -- it's sinister.
Dead nuns in trunks in ford fiestas,

and fart fetish porn addicted dentists.
Sex obsessed kids who get arrested
trying to assess whether incest is
best with your own mom or your stepsis!

In your front yard, this retarded kid
sniffs a jar he farted in.
Grandpa's getting hard again;
you can see his pecker poking thru his cardigan!

Just then daddy barges in,
says mom fucked the garbageman,
grabs some ammo off the mantle
shoots her while she's gardening!

[chorus]

you want sex & violence? suburbia's it
we got so many perverts lurking its disturbing as shit
leave you more shell-shocked than a surbian kid
and if osama saw this shit well then his turban'd flip

want sex & violence, suburbias it
under the perfect surface, its disturbing as shit
leave you more shell-shocked than a surbian kid
and you know this song is catchier than herpes on lips

under the conservative surface lives
more freaks than a circus tents

a pack of trannies
moved in next to the pakistanis
the dad next door fudgepacks the nanny
grannies putting thumbtacks in candies

for trick or treaters, knocked up cheerleaders
dont want their fetus
so they bang it's head against the cul-de-sac
it takes 3 whacks for the skull to crack (crk-crk-crk-crack)

hey! we all got hidden sins
seem like good citizens
til you find the basement chamber we chain babysitters in
where we feed em cheetos to begin stretching the skin
for this dress made out of human flesh we be finishing!

it's like that show that opie's in
but opie's smoking opium
while andy griffith's groping him
and aunt b is deepthroating him

Pop's sex slave's is Cambodian
a young boy he named ho chi mihn
the kids watch nickelodeon
while he gets off by choking him

[chorus]

we got amy fishers, got milfs
got pregnant bitches...got milk?

you hot for teacher? mary kay letourno's
got a backyard begin enough for making pornos
kindergartners trafficking
in photographs of african

american fat chicks asslicking
they run a brothel out of waffle house
i thought everybody drove low riders once
but it's from the bodies that they hide in trunks

out here we got space to party
and decapitate the body
of the mami you met on face book
but her pics weren't nothing like her face looked

i guess we feel bored and apathetic
feel trapped, so we act aggressive
start grabbing weapons, kidnap a cleric
beat him silly with a handicap's prosthetic

a prison sentence with picket fences
yuppies feel like rodents caged
so they grab a 12 guage hit the road & rage
we got unabombers and jeffrey damhers

who can't believe how tasty this deaf kid's palm is
i think i'll kill two strippers
feed their bodies thru wood chippers

we don't kill cause we need to eat
we kill cause the bleedings neat
and when the deed's complete, if she's petite
we feed the meat to our pekinese

she salivates at the odor of flesh
ever since we fed her that jehovah's witness

Discography

"2005: Year In Review" Mixtape

Set List

Jay Eff's typical set is 15-45 minutes.
No covers.