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Bored Games

by Passion Party

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Tim Stiles
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brexfast89
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dantastik5
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LW
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1.
Morning Sex 03:37
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You wanna sleep some more and of course you could But I’ve got blue balls and a case of the morning wood Can’t blame me for being in a horny mood I’ve got the fortitude for four minutes of porking you I’m talking four sessions, each sixty seconds I practice what I preach when I’m teaching lessons I’m a two pump chump the moment the sun comes up Yet I'm wide awake and I need a taste of your love There’s little time to waste as I’m grazing my tongue Across your private place even though I’m so hungover and numb Barely sober at sunrise I'll still push this envelope between your young thighs It’s a beautiful morning and we’ve reached the end of the week Two cups of coffee and you’re laying right next to me I wanna turn your drowsiness into ecstasy Baby won’t you wake up and have sex with me? I’ll catch ya before your sober from the night before, light the torch Right before the puke comes up, I’m Michael Moore Fahrenheit nine-elevening your spinal cord Staring deep into your eyes like a dinosaur Mr. T-Rex says, there’s no need to get dressed Let’s skip the shower and have sex instead You’ll to do the work but I’ll supply breakfast I love watching your bedhead bob around as I get head The butter minus the toast is what I’m serving inside of your throat An aftertaste of bourbon from like last night as I explode My abode pulls your heartstrings And once I strike the final note, you'll know this no dream It’s a beautiful morning and we’ve reached the end of the week Two cups of coffee and you’re laying right next to me I wanna turn your drowsiness into ecstasy Baby won’t you wake up and have sex with me?
2.
LucyFur (A Song About Tim's Cat) 04:54
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I like to think of Lucy as an anomaly Elusive, cute kitten when she wants to be Yet she's awfully noisy on most mornings While I’m brushing my teeth I’m yelling, “get off of me!” There's a beauty in that beast yet it's hard to see it Once she retreats under the couch it’s painful Litter box is still stained, shameful Little brained individual not so minuscule She's kind of a runt with a meticulous name Born six-six-0-six gingery frame Still a kitten at 8 years of age "Lucy-Fur" to own her is like hell in a hand basket A basket-filled with hell, hell-ridden Hell-driven kitten until new water is given Then she’s quiet… Shh Don’t dare wake her I find solace in the silenc Finally I'm all alone Gonna take a big dump on the couch Roll around, chase the mouse Hack it up in the sink, the kitty litter’s starting to stink That's right, I don't know if you're ever coming home Now I found a big pile of your socks Toilet paper, building blocks Now I'm taking hits of (cat)nip and reality's starting to slip That’s right, I said reality’s startin' to slip That’s right, I said reality’s startin' to slip Some cats are cray, listen up, dog lovers If you’ve never owned a tabby you wouldn’t understa You think your dog’s a handful? Try living with with a feline whose paws resemble the upper-hand You pick up poop and have to walk them While I weekly scoop a litter-laid, defecated coffin Sifting through the sediment, coughing From the smell of my residence hesitant guests walk in Breaths of ammonia suggest at the very least That I’m a bad cat owner Each step is so yuck I become a paleontologist extracting stool-shaped donuts Can't you tell the distinction Between the fresh dog stink and the cat smell of extinction? This petrified, cat pee has me Wishing for a dog, not an adopted kitten Finally I'm all alone Gonna take a big dump on the couch Roll around, chase the mouse Hack it up in the sink, the kitty litter’s starting to stink That's right, I don't know if you're ever coming home Now I found a big pile of your socks Toilet paper, building blocks Now I'm taking hits of (cat)nip and reality's starting to slip That’s right, I said reality’s startin' to slip That’s right, I said reality’s startin' to slip Look, I love her to death But she’s one, untamed, stubborn son of a bitch Never satisfied, all cunning and quick Once I decide to go to work she starts running her lips, like Pet me... RIGHT MEOW, Feed me…. RIGHT MEOW Don't tease me when the lights go out Leave me be, wait, PET ME, No, no, DON’T TOUCH ME! This mini-me can never make up her mind Play, pet or lay around all lazy Orange hairs cover my apartment Igniting my allergies and making my vision hazy It's kinda bullshit the way she plays me Crying and whining, this misfit it crazy My contemplation of this shit, lately Have I adopted a cat or a human baby? Finally I'm all alone Gonna take a big dump on the couch Roll around, chase the mouse Hack it up in the sink, the kitty litter’s starting to stink That's right, I don't know if you're ever coming home Now I found a big pile of your socks Toilet paper, building blocks Now I'm taking hits of (cat)nip and reality's starting to slip That’s right, I said reality’s startin' to slip That’s right, I said reality’s startin' to slip
3.
Robot Roommate 03:33
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He speaks, "bleep, beep, bop" off to do the dishes While I’m asleep, he’s not, he’s too ambitious Cleaning the litter box with a voodoo diligence Who knew filaments could construct such willingness? Folding socks and hanging clothes with no qualms I give him high-fives even though he has no palms When I’m in a bad mood he plays a program of slow songs He’s partitioned and conditioned to do no wrong I built him so strong with the finest of pistons Three legs, two arms and a kind disposition My roommates before never liked to listen Barcoding him onto my lease was the best decision He doesn't talk back, he’s always on track He never lies, steals, nor combats Made of wires and steel, he’s all that He’s my crew-mate, ever two-faced robot roommate He doesn't pass judgment even when the rug's lint Clogs up his wheels he rolls with the punches He does such justice entertaining amongst friends With his comedy setting and other various functions Made of polycarbonate and tungsten He is far from fake when attending a luncheon He’ll cut up your steak while you’re busy munching Then later clean your plate and keep the gin fizzies coming He’s a programmatic gentleman With no static, bad habits, nor lack of intelligence Lacking a heartbeat, part me, part machine With the sum of his parts, he's the life of the party He doesn't talk back, he’s always on track He never lies, steals, nor combats Made of wires and steel, he’s all that He’s my crew-mate, ever two-faced robot roommate He speaks, “Blip, bip, beep” off to fold the sheets Doing laundry is hardly a chore for me While I count sheep asleep, he explores and cleans He’s “more than meets the eye,” it’s galore to see Him open any door accordingly To the way I coded him as a noted friend, he’s sworn to be My life-mate, my life-coach, those primates in my past Just gasp once him and I approach So, here’s a toast to this astromech nomad Over a synthetic, aesthetic, tech-savvy slow jam So I say, hey bro-ham. Command mode, dance program!
4.
Sexting 03:34
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Sexting... It’s the next best thing To physical contact, whimsical want ads are depressing That’s why I contract my smart phone And start the night alone, undressing Caressing myself and my virtual keyboard Expressing my wealth of verbiage, be warned! I can do what I please once conversation seems sore Converting my pleas into a Plesiosaur Bringing words back from the dead, extinct! Typing, idling even though my breath stinks She’ll never smell it from my grill as I expel it I can form-aldehyde my pride by auto-check-spelling it “Boobs” become “Broods” “You” becomes “Used” “Slap” becomes “Scrap” And I leave her confused Her “Kiss” becomes “Crisp” And “Tits” become “This” WTF? How does “Penis” Become “Phoenix?” These wrists are well trained in more ways than one Left hand on my phone, right hand on my junk I’m the middle man between our two data plans I’ll use a semi-colon and a parenthesis to make her randy There's something that turns me on Hands are shaking, it won't be long I sent a text but babe it sure is getting late Don't keep me up all night You know just what i like Proper punctuation and strong emot-ication Nothing better than what we've got One and one, you do the math And I can hit on you while I sit on my ass Things are gettin' hot and heavy I’m stocked up a with a straight chub, cocked and ready In my basement rocking a face-plug, tossing confetti Once I climax, I’ll bust a lot of spaghetti I'm a slave to the smart phone, instagramming A picture speaks a thousand words ad my hands are clammy "Touch sensitive" has to stand for something The text that she hands me has me handy, get it? Yeah I took there, it's a party up in here Her messages straight stand up my fur The steam on the mirror reminds me of her curves Read the sign on the door, "DO NOT DISTURB" There's something that turns me on Hands are shaking, it won't be long I sent a text but babe it sure is getting late Don't keep me up all night You know just what i like Proper punctuation and strong emot-ication Nothing better than what we've got One and one, you do the math And I can hit on you while I sit on my ass
5.
Road Rules 04:11
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Ah, the birds are chirping It’s just an average Monday, I can’t wait to start working But first things first, at the break of dawn I’m thirsty For a raw egg submerged in powdered protein As I stumble past the mirror, I see stubbled calves Thinking that's something I should take care of So as a great display, I embrace the day Shave my legs, and draw a bubble bath Ah, now that’s the right combo Naked in my condo, looking like a hairless cat Flexing, my reflection’s vexing Calves are so smooth I can see 'em glaring back Saying, you’re the next Lance Armstrong No one would know the difference between a pear and your ass Screw putting a pair of pants on You're an athlete at the track meet, top of your class Wiggling into spandex, slipping ankle socks on Admiring my outfit advertisement of a Nascar Filling my fanny pack with granny snacks The helmet strap snap marks a plan of attack I’m a man of the moment, ot a man of the past Aerodynamic as an arrow, narrow and fast Thin as a scarecrow, flyer than a sparrow My ponytailed hair blows in the wind as I roll past I ride two wheels, you ride four We’re both egotistical, meek and fickle No matter the audience, we’re both eyesores On our high-horse, whether car or bicycle You ride four wheels, I ride two We’re both egotistical, meek and fickle You don’t like me and I don’t like you Same road, same fools not abiding by the same rules Ah, the birds are chirping It’s just an average Monday, I can’t wait to start working But first things first, at the break of dawn I’m thirsty For a Starbucks coffee and a swish of Listerine As I stumble past the mirror, I see a stubbled neck Thinking that's something I should double-check Before I make my way, I razor blade away the grey And apply some Just For Men Now this suit and tie combo make’s me a tight honcho With a cologned, lustful scent Flexing, my reflection’s vexing My collar's so starched it’s like I’m dressed for a wedding From my cufflinks to this designer tie No one'll know the difference between me and Barry White I’m "never gonna give you up,” my ride Fully detailed, warmed up, and waiting outside Wiggling into wingtips, slipping driving gloves on Admiring my outfit, eeling bomb-beta-dot-com So manly, dapper with my uncanny swagger Ready to hit the road with a plan to attack her I’m a man of the moment, ot a man of the past-ure Feeling golden with a selfie to capture The fact that I’m wealthy, healthy and happier Than any bi-pedalling, fixed gear actor I ride four wheels, you ride two We’re both egotistical, meek and fickle You don’t like me and I don’t like you Same road, same fools, not abiding by the same rules You ride two wheels, I ride Ffour We’re both egotistical, meek and fickle No matter the audience, we’re both eyesores On our high-horse, whether car or bicycle Whenever there’s a green light we both see red Inconsiderate fellows never waving, hello, hell, no! Hell, we’ll soon be dead Tossing caution to the wind with no recognition of yellow We ride up the same hills to a place to get paid Still, ignoring that our collars are of the same build Forget the rules of the road, you never move when you're told We’re out of control nd it’s the “brakes” to remain still We passive aggressively establish intensity And through acts of indiscretion, cause accidents, accidentally Duh, it’s a problem of propensity, perpetually stuck Preventing any measuring up Here we are on the road again Making decisions on our own and no one's our friend This wasteland’s our Graceland, our battle begins Once our fists are all clenched thinking how we can win Here we are on the road again It's a race to the finish and no one's our friend This wasteland’s our Graceland, our battle begins Where the asphalt starts and where the sidewalk ends
6.
Furries 03:22
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Tonight I’m working late, I’ve got so much to finish up Before I can incubate, I’m stuck Inter-web surfing, bettin’ on beginner’s luck Disturbed when I can't settle on a furry kitten or a little pug I plan to be a winner cause tonight’s a contest Between the fair-feathered friends and the scaly Loch-Ness I'm up against the hairy strands of that sloth in socks It’s gonna be a fairy-tale land once I approach the spot The next shop ships quicker than your Amazon My Google queries found the rudest, rare beast shop around Now I got it on lock down AI'm going to rock across town In a mock gown made of goat hair I acquired ram horns having other patrons screaming, “No Fair!” It’s gonna be so rare but I don’t care Hoofed feet look neat and I’m so there, it's sweet! Dressed like a bear from head to toe But not like the creatures from the woodland cove Walking down the street, I barely touch the ground I got a spring in my step, got fur all around That's right, I know you're looking at me Six feet tall with teddy bear feet You're looking nice but not in my league You'd look better in a suit of fur, just like me Next thing I know, you're walking to me You grab my paw beause it's furry and clean I can barely see you with this bear head on You've got stars in your eyes, so let's get it on! On my left, I see a rooster, on my right, a lion A combination of both would be something worth trying Perhaps that zebra-cobra or that walrus-saurus That eager beaver or that tiger-taurus The clocking is ticking and I’ve got to decide Who I'll be raw-dogging with this barrier of rawhide That’s right, I decided on a Satyr Half man, half goat is guaranteed to get me laid later The bone in my droors represents the same saber tooth in my grill Tonight call me, "The game changer" Park rangers better beware of that keen bear Stepping up behind me like a mean stranger Oh, I guess now I'm the power-bottom The upper hand I used to have is now forgotten She's got me opened up like a flower's blossom Getting the party started, now that's awesome Dressed like a bear from head to toe But not like the creatures from the woodland cove Walking down the street, I barely touch the ground I got a spring in my step, got fur all around That's right, I know you're looking at me Six feet tall with teddy bear feet You're looking nice but not in my league You'd look better in a suit of fur, just like me Next thing I know, you're walking to me You grab my paw beause it's furry and clean I can barely see you with this bear head on You've got stars in your eyes, so let's get it on!
7.
Nerd Circus 05:28
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I’ve grown as a man with my future in hand A great job with benefits, plus a retirement plan Yet nostalgia never fails to inspire on demand Igniting this nerd fire, buying trend I saved up my allowance for the G1 releases as a kid, Now it's masterpieces, I’m never late on paying the rent I used to watch the cartoon while laying in bed And when told to go to sleep, I’d VHS tape it instead I’m just enticed because their designs are priceless You call them toys, to me they’re collector's items Bumble-Bee humbles me as SkyWarp flies And WideScope’s eye targets Optimus Prime Just when the Autobots thought they could escape I let SoundWave’s bass topple their pride Next in, the Dinobots Slag, Sludge, Grimlock Snarl, and Swoop are more than meets the price What, what, what would I do? Without these Autobots and Decepticons? What, what, what would I do? If Optimus didn't have me to help defeat Megatron? What, what, what would I do? If I left 'em to collect dust and fall with Cybertron What, what, what would I do? I’d probably short circuit nd quit this Nerd Circus I’ve grown as a man with my future in hand A great job with benefits, plus a retirement plan Yet nostalgia never fails to inspire on demand Igniting a nerd fire, buying trend The snap of the blocks I remember so clearly Not following instructions, constructing was just enough The applause from my mom was quite endearing But if you saw what I’d built you’d say, that's nothing much Nowadays I collect Japanese Nanoblocks My first was a Panda, my latest a Shark I've got a whole zoo now with no shame and the same goes For my hardcore collection of Star Wars Legos When the dark side's in a crunch, my Tie Fighter’s tight in the clutch My AT-AT stomps with a motorized payload The intricacies of the pieces increases the thesis That building them’s a reason for me to stay home What, what, what would I do? Without these hand-built creations covering my shelves? What, what, what would I do? To expand imagination, creativity and skill? What, what, what would I do? When bored, all alone with nothing to build? What, what, what would I do? I’d probably hit the dirt and just quit this Nerd Circus I’ve grown as a man with my future in hand A great job with benefits, plus a retirement plan Yet nostalgia never fails to inspire on demand Igniting a nerd fire, buying trend It’s the artwork that got me with each every copy Visits to the comic store were a weekend hobby With storyboards galore, I’d sneak in softly From ceiling to floor, their collection was ungodly I'd Marvel at the talent from Erik Larsen And extensively study, he art of Todd McFarlane Now X-Force, X-Men, Wolverine, Spawn And Incredible Hulk issues hang in my apartment As far as DC goes, I was never much of a fan But Frank Miller and Neal Adams both drew a mean Batman From the last to the first print, vintage editions I keep them unread, boxed up, in mint condition What, what, what would I do? If I didn't own each sealed, locked in my safe? What, what, what would I do? If I didn’t know some heroes never rocked a cape? What, what, what would I do? Without these characters to help me escape? What, what, what would I do? I’d probably write more verses and quit this Nerd Circus

about

Passion Party is a satirical hip-hop band from Seattle, WA formed in 2012 by Tim Stiles and Adam Drew.

'Bored Games', the band's sophomore release, creates a unique palette with synthetic soundscapes, deliberately placed samples and sultry horn sections over hip-hop percussion. Themes encompassing self-deprecation, real life and fantasy, plus pokes at pop culture & first world problems are heard throughout.

As far as songs in particular, “Road Rules” takes an unbiased stab at the heated relationship between drivers and bicyclists in the big city. Whereas “Morning Sex,” “Sexting,” and “Furries” broach obscure topics normally hidden behind the socially acceptable curtain. “Robot Roommate" and “Nerd Circus” cater to the nostalgic, toy collecting kid in many of us. “LucyFur" is a literal depiction of life with proprietor and lyricist Tim Stiles' nine year old tabby cat named Lucy - born 6/6/2006 (666) hence the nickname - and plays on the dichotomy of opinions between dog and cat owners.

'Bored Games' features many local Seattle talents including Adam Drew (The No Good Hearts, This Blinding Light), Timmy Conroy (Blvd Park, Nevada Backwards, Paula Boggs Band), and J. Lee Mezus (Active I, Audiodose AD1 Studios).

credits

released September 29, 2015

All songs written by Tim Stiles
Co-written by Adam Drew (Chorus' on Tracks 2 & 6)
Prod. by Adam Drew + Feat. Timmy Conroy on Trumpet (Tracks 1, 2, 3, 4, & 6)
Prod. by J. Lee Vertz (Tracks 5 & 7)

All samples & arrangement by Tim Stiles
Artwork by Richard Lim & Michael Luttmer
Album Mixed & Mastered by J. Lee Mezus @ AD1 Studios (Seattle, WA)

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Tim Stiles Santa Cruz, California

Tim Stiles is an independent hip-hop artist historically known as the lead vocalist/rapper of the satirical hip hop band, Passion Party. Tim is no one trick pony. He’s a clever, crafty wordsmith in his own right with an ability to adapt to just about any concept or genre. ... more

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