Listen to Vocoder Vocal - 'Yeah'. Royalty-Free sound that is tagged as vocal fx, monophonic, one shot, and processed. Download for FREE + discover 1000's of sounds. Define the picture definition. Small definition, increase load time, but loose quality. Outto-Tune Tyroneis a character role-played byLAGTVMaximusBlack. 1 General Description 2 Background Information 3 Quotes 4 SoundCloud Outto-Tune Tyrone is an eleven-time platinum star singer and rapper in Los Santos. He is the owner and founder of Creampie Creations. He was previously a part of Cop Killa Records before leaving the label since it was inactive. He now runs his own label.
I have an ear infucktion and I cunt finger it out (Out), yeah (I need Auto-Tune) Yeah. It’s my alter ego’s fault These evil thoughts could be so dark Cerebral palsy, three Zolofts I eat, doze off to “Rico Suave” (Look it up) Cadillac with a ladder rack in the back, with a cracked axel, a backpack full of Paxil.
NEW YORK, NY – MARCH 05: Machine Gun Kelly is seen in Soho on March 5, 2020 in New York City. (Photo by Raymond Hall/GC Images)
NEW YORK, NY – MARCH 05: Machine Gun Kelly is seen in Soho on March 5, 2020 in New York City. (Photo by Raymond Hall/GC Images)
It’s hard to even know what to make of the video. Machine Gun Kelly, longtime rap-industry B-teamer, bunny-hops on one leg across the Interscope Records conference room table, playing air guitar and dangling freshly bleached hair down in his eyes. He’s got on Chuck Taylors and ripped jeans and a flannel and a wallet chain. The assembled music-industry types sit and watch him — utterly nonreactive, hopelessly bored. The spectacle looks a whole lot like the scene of Bobby Shmurda in the Epic Records conference room three years earlier — with crucial differences.
And just like that @Interscope will never be the same @machinegunkelly#ticketstomydownfallpic.twitter.com/TihUUb8MT1
— Travis Barker (@travisbarker) January 29, 2020
One: Machine Gun Kelly is white. Two: Machine Gun Kelly is not hopelessly trying to escape poverty. He’s already rich. He’s good. Three: Machine Gun Kelly is attempting to sell himself as a punk rocker — despite the whole complicated reality that part of being a punk rocker, at least in theory, is not selling yourself as one. Also, the label execs in that Bobby Shmurda video at least seem excited about the prospect of signing the kid. The people in the Interscope room look like: Ugh. Fuck. I guess we’re doing this now. But they’re doing this now. Machine Gun Kelly is a punk rocker. The pitch has been made.
Once upon a time, Machine Gun Kelly was a pretty good white mixtape rapper — the type of energetic and technically precise voice who would show up at the end of a Travis Porter song to add a quick jolt. Inevitably, he got signed. Diddy brought MGK into the Bad Boy Family, and the young man born Colson Baker spent the better part of a decade making jumped-up pop-rap. He always seemed happy to be there, which made sense. He should have been happy to be there. He was lucky, and he knew it. Eight years ago, I saw MGK open up an arena show on Rick Ross, Meek Mill, and Wale’s Maybach Music tour, and he spent much of the headliners’ set jumping around in the crowd. Jumping around was really his specialty.
But the clues were there. MGK always sold a simple, easy sort of rebellion: “Yeah, bitch! Yeah, bitch! Call me Steve-O!” And he always made nods to another simple and easy sort of rebellion, from the middle-school binder-scribble anarchy symbol tatted across his midriff to the absurd claim that “Cobain’s back.” In 2013, he released a mixtape called Black Flag. We should’ve known.
Up until now, Machine Gun Kelly has had a moderately successful rap career. He’s stuck around. He’s been on songs. He’s even had hits; the 2016 Camila Cabello collab “Bad Things” made it to #4. And yet MGK’s greatest moment of relevance probably happened a couple of years ago, when he got into a brief and fairly entertaining feud with obvious aesthetic inspiration Eminem. Some of MGK’s lines on the anti-Em track “Rap Devil” were genuinely funny: “His fucking beard is weird.” (Also, as a tall man, I support all tall people making fun of short people for the crime of being short.) The MGK/Eminem feud didn’t have a definitive winner, but MGK got something out of it just by getting under the skin of a way-more-famous, way-more-established rapper. MGK played the heel, and he played it pretty well.
MGK also played the heel in his acting career. (Sometimes, he’s played the literal heel, as in the 2015 moment where Kevin Owens powerbombed him off the Monday Night Raw stage. MGK landed on a very visible crash-pad, but still, he took the fall.) In his first onscreen role, in the underseen 2014 drama Beyond The Lights, MGK played Kid Culprit, a total-asshole white rapper. That role capitalized on MGK’s innate punchability. Since then, MGK has played dickheads, burnouts, and dickhead burnouts. Most of his characters have been low-level villains.
Over time, MGK has gotten a little better at playing dickhead burnouts. He was pretty funny as Tommy Lee for instance, in the otherwise-unwatchable Mötley Crüe biopic The Dirt, and he was nicely vulnerable in his friend Pete Davidson’s Hulu coming-of-age flick Big Time Adolescence. Last month, I experienced something I never expected. I was genuinely happy to see MGK show up in a movie. He’s got one scene as an aloof tattoo artist in The King Of Staten Island, and when he made his appearance, I was like: Oh! Hey! This guy!
Maybe that’s why I’m not quite willing to reject the MGK pop-punk experiment out of hand. Or maybe it’s just that I’m fucking fascinated with how this could’ve happened. Because Machine Gun Kelly is now making pop-punk. That’s his thing now. For his new album Tickets To My Downfall, MGK has teamed up with Travis Barker, a guy who has signified rock ‘n’ roll excess and rebellion within rap-music circles ever since Da Shop Boyz namechecked him on 2007’s “Party Like A Rockstar.” (Between Tommy Lee and Travis Barker, MGK definitely has a thing for bad-boy drummers. If Keith Moon was still alive, MGK would be stagediving into his Instagram DMs right now.) Barker has done plenty of rap production over the years, but that’s not what Tickets To My Downfall is. Instead, Barker is there to help MGK jump headlong into the world of glittery Warped Tour pogo music. It’s wild.
MGK has been building to this moment for a little while — or at least since last year, when he released the Yungblud/Barker collab “I Think I’m Okay” as a single. This year, MGK, to his credit, has been out and visible during the protests against police brutality. He’s also saluted those protests in the silliest way possible: By posting a video where he and Barker covered Rage Against The Machine’s “Killing In The Name.” That well-intentioned, hopelessly embarrassing cover proves that Machine Gun Kelly is not as good a rapper as Zack De La Rocha, or at least that he’s not as good at this type of rapping. But MGK hasn’t rapped since.
MGK doesn’t rap at all on Tickets To My Downfall. The album is a full-on mall-punk genre exercise. Parts of it sound like mid-period Fall Out Boy. Parts sound like New Found Glory. Squint your ears hard enough, and parts of it even sound like Saves The Day. The single “concert for aliens” is a full-on Blink-182 pastiche, with an actual Blink-182 member right there behind him. (There are rumors that Matt Skiba is out of Blink now, which means there’s a non-zero chance that MGK will just fuck around and join the band.) Also, I swear to fucking god, there’s a moment where MGK has Trippie Redd singing an Operation Ivy song.
The song “all i know” — MGK is on that all-lowercase song-title wave — heavily interpolates Berkeley ska-punk gods Op Ivy’s 1989 anthem “Knowledge,” to the point where all the members of Op Ivy get songwriting credit. (Jessie Michaels is getting Bad Boy checks in 2020.) On that song, MGK brays, “My label hates that I’m like this,” and I honestly don’t know if that’s true. I would not be surprised if Tickets To My Downfall becomes MGK’s biggest record ever. It’s definitely the first time I really feel compelled to pay attention to the guy.
In the past few years, rap music has truly discovered the magic of mid-’00s MySpace emo. Lil Peep identified as a rapper while throwing 808s over the kinds of songs that you could hear banging from the Warped Tour parking lot a decade earlier. Juice WRLD and Trippie Redd became stars by nasally whine-singing about romantic travails over maddeningly sticky guitar riffage. In recent months, the Kid Laroi and 24kGoldn have made massive hits that only barely even qualify as rap music. Machine Gun Kelly has been chasing the rap zeitgeist for his entire career. In a way, he may have finally caught it by moving away from rapping entirely.
Is Tickets To My Downfall any good? I honestly have no idea. I’m still trying to process the idea that it exists. The lyrics are gallingly dumb: “If I’m a painter, I’d be a depressionist.” MGK pulls the trick, common to both pop-punk and to the rap that imitates pop-punk, of blaming way too much sadness on some poor girlfriend: “She’ll get attached and then trap me/ Then I gotta act like I’m happy.” There’s also a whole lot of classic mall-punk posing: “I’m overstimulated and I’m sad/ I don’t expect you to understand,” “I know you wanted me to go to law school/ I dyed my hair, pierced my nostril.” I love that. That’s always fun. Over the course of my lifetime, I have given way too much of my money to NOFX to front on any type of shit like that.
Musically, Tickets To My Downfall layers 808 booms under candy-bright guitars. Barker’s drums, both electronic and otherwise, sound huge. A lot of the hooks are nastily effective. I appreciate that MGK’s voice is deep and gruff, that he doesn’t adapt the nasal whine that way too many of his rap peers use when they’re adapting pop-punk sonics. There’s a song called “Jawbreaker” on the album, and I have no idea whether that’s supposed to be a reference to the band or whether it’s just the candy. But Travis Barker is in a band with Tim Armstrong. There’s no way Barker doesn’t know his Gilman St. classics, and I’m willing to bet that he’s at least noticed that MGK sometimes sounds at least a little bit like Blake Schwarzenbach. (He doesn’t write like Blake Schwarzenbach, but neither do I, and neither do you.)
Right now, the gamble seems to be paying off. MGK is getting more airplay on alt-rock radio now than he ever got on R&B radio. Two singles have made the top 10 of the Billboard Hot Rock & Alternative Songs chart. As I write this, the Blackbear collab “my ex’s best friend” is the only non-rap song in the Apple Music top 10 and one of the only two in the top 10 on Spotify. (The Justin Bieber/Chance The Rapper joint is in there, too, if that counts as being non-rap.) MGK has also gotten plenty of mileage out of the fact that he is now dating Megan Fox. Fox is in his “Bloody Valentine” video, an unapologetic Green Day pastiche. (With the “Love The Way You Lie” connection, maybe it’s also an Eminem pastiche. Again, though: No rapping.)
This isn’t like Lil Wayne, at the peak of his stardom, making a sudden and self-indulgent pivot to radio rock. This is something else — a rapper finding out that he might just be better off as a mall-punk figurehead. Hell, maybe all those years in rap’s B-list have given MGK a certain credibility to the kids currently streaming his album. Maybe that’s his version of spending years touring basements in a van. It’s 2020, baby. Everything’s on the table, and nothing makes sense. All I know is that I don’t know nothing.
FURIOUS FIVE
1. Willie The Kid – “Egregious”
15 years ago, Willie The Kid was the DJ Drama protege taking up valuable space on Lil Wayne mixtapes that should’ve gone to more Lil Wayne verses. Today, Willie The Kid is making ridiculously solid boom-bap with Evidence producing. The world is a wondrous place.
2. Billy Bank$ – “Underrated”
Do you think the young Queens drill rapper Billy Bank$ knows that he’s chosen a stage name that makes him sound a lot like he’s the guy who invented Tae Bo? Does he just not care? Either way, this kicks hard.
3. 14 trapdoors – “Means To The End” (Feat. Boldy James, Royce Da 5’9″, & Billy Essco)
The Buffalo group 14 trapdoors makes, eerie, paranoiac indie-rap with a great eerie early-’00s edge. They also have good taste in collaborators, which more than makes up for the dumb line about putting out the blunt on Donald Trump’s combover.
4. Icewear Vezzo, Hoodrich Pablo Juan, & Z Money – “No Autotune”
Being a foundational rap star and coming out with a song called “DOA (Death Of Auto-Tune)” is corny. Being a group of regional underground rappers and coming out with a song called “No Autotune” that never mentions Auto-Tune is much, much cooler.
5. Tha God Fahim & Your Old Droog – “Mailman”
Let’s make this song a hit — partly because it’s good and partly because I want to hear Bfb Da Packman on a remix.
IT WAS ALL GOOD JUST A WEEK AGO
“First I’m gonna start my show (and then what?) / ask a question then I ask some mo’ (and then what?) / have the guests sit on my couch, on the tube err’day at ya auntie house” https://t.co/z0FBtkCrQJ
— Dee Phunk (@DeePhunk) September 28, 2020
more from Status Ain't Hood
Robbin' Houses - Outto-Tune Tyrone
Eminem – Tone Deaf
Year: 2020
Lyrics:
Yeah, I’m sorry (Huh?)
What did you say?
Oh, I can’t hear you
I have an ear infucktion and I cunt finger it out (Out), yeah (I need Auto-Tune)
Yeah
It’s my alter ego’s fault
These evil thoughts could be so dark
Cerebral palsy, three Zolofts
I eat, doze off to “Rico Suave” (Look it up)
Cadillac with a ladder rack in the back, with a cracked axel, a backpack full of Paxil
A black satchel, a knapsack and a flask full of ‘gnac and Jack Daniels
Girl, let’s go back-back to my castle (Yeah)
I don’t wanna hassle you, Alexandra
But my dick’s an acronym ’cause it stands for you (Stands for you, oh)
Wait, Alexandra who? (Damn)
All I know is Friday, I met you (What?)
Saturday, I’ll probably forget you
Guess that’s what the Molly and ex do (What the fuck?)
‘Cause who the fuck am I laying next to? (Huh)
But ever since D-Nice To Tha Rescue, Fila Fresh Crew (Uh)
I been a lab rat (Yeah) from a test tube (Uh)
I’m goin’ in-nn like the red roof (Red Roof Inn)
You don’t like it, eat a cock ’til your jaw breaks (Yeah)
Call it caught between a rock and a hard place
Like a sasquatch in a crawlspace
‘Cause you’re watchin’ your heart race like you’re Scarface
In a car chase with the cops or an arcade
Stuck inside of a Mario Kart race duckin’ saw blades
At a stop and a start pace
What I’m tryin’ to say is I’m drivin’ ’em all crazy
I can’t understand a word you say (I’m tone-deaf)
I think this way I prefer to stay (I’m tone-deaf)
I won’t stop even when my hair turns grey (I’m tone-deaf)
‘Cause they won’t stop until they cancel me (Yeah, yeah)
Cached
I see the rap game, then attack the verses (Uh)
Turn into a graveyard packed with hearses (Yeah)
Just like your funeral, I’m at your service (What?)
Pockets ‘on stuff’ like a taxidermist (Woo)
Just landed in Los Angeles when this chick Angela and her grandmother in a tan
Colored van pull up with a handful of Xans
And a substantial amount of gan’ just to ask what my
(Plans) plans for the night are (Yeah)
I said, “Sneak into the Sleep Inn for the weekend and pretend it’s a five-star,” yeah
Or leap into the deep end of the pool
I can show you where the dives are (Get it?), ha
We don’t even gotta drive far
I know this spot that is so live
But I’m tryna get some head first (What?), like a nosedive (Haha)
So many side chicks, can’t decide which to slide with and which should I ditch
So when it comes to ass, bitch, I get behind like the Heimlich (Get behind, yeah)
Had one chick who liked to flip sometimes on some switchin’ sides shit
Pushed her out the Sidekick, then I flipped the lil’ white bitch off like a light switch (Bitch)
It’s okay not to like my shit
Everything’s fine, drink your wine, bitch
And get offline, quit whinin’, this is just a rhyme, bitch (Rhyme, bitch)
But ask me, will I stick to my guns (Guns) like adhesive tape? (Adhesive tape)
Does Bill Cosby sedate once he treats to cheesecake and a decent steak? (Huh?)
You think gettin’ rid of me’s a piece of cake?
I’m harder than findin’ Harvey Weinstein a date (Damn)
And that’s why they say I got more lines than Black Friday
So save that sssshit for the damn library (Shh)
You heard of Kris Kristofferson? (Yeah)
Well, I am Piss Pissedofferson (Oh)
Paul’s askin’ for Christmas off again
I said, “No,” then I spit this song for him
It goes
Yeah Yeah Auto Tuners
I can’t understand a word you say (I’m tone-deaf)
I think this way I prefer to stay (I’m tone-deaf)
I won’t stop even when my hair turns grey (I’m tone-deaf)
‘Cause they won’t stop until they cancel me (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, I can make “orange” rhyme with “banana” (Yeah)
Bornana
Eating pork rinds, sword fightin’ in pajamas
At the crib, playin’ Fortnite with your grandma
But I’m more like a four-five with the grammar
‘Bout to show you why your five favorite rappers can’t touch this
But before I get the hammer
I should warn you, I’m Thor-like in this manner (Thor)
But the day I lose sleep over you critiquin’ me or
I ever let you cocksuckers eat at me
I’d need to be a motherfuckin’ pizzeria
But you ain’t gettin’ no cheese from me
I went from Little Caesars, BLTses, grilled cheeses
Bein’ dirt poor to filthy rich, I’m still me, bitch
Like a realtor, that’s real tea (Realty), bitch (Real talk)
Aftermath, bitch, whole camp’s lit
We put out fire, Dre stamps it
With my cohorts, hit a bogart
Yeah, got your whole squad yellin’, “Oh, God”
Here comes Barshall with no holds barred
Bitch, I’m a hurricane, you’re a blowhard
Like your old broad, she full of semen (Sea men), like the coast guard
And life’s been pretty good to me so far (Yeah), for the most part
Had a couple of run-ins with po-po, caught
A couple assault charges, got a few priors (Priers) like crowbars (Priors)
Which is so odd ’cause I’m forty-eight now
That 5-0’s startin’ to creep up on me like a patrol car (Woo)
I’ll be an old fart, but you don’t want no part, so, bitch, don’t start (Don’t start)
Simmer down, compose yourself, Mozart
I ain’t went nowhere, call me coleslaw
‘Cause I’m out for the cabbage and I’m so raw
And if time is money, you have no clocks
And any folk caught within close proximity’s gettin’ cold-cocked
My enemies, I’m a chimney, give me the smoke, opps
And R.I.P. to King Von, and it don’t stop, and I know not
What the fuck you say? I told y’all, it ain’t me, it’s my alter ego’s fault
But if y’all wanna cancel me, no prob
I’ll tell you the same thing I told Paul (Woo)
I can’t understand a word you say (I’m tone-deaf)
I think this way I prefer to stay (I’m tone-deaf)
I won’t stop even when my hair turns grey (I’m tone-deaf)
‘Cause they won’t stop until they cancel me (I’m tone-deaf)
Inhumane - Outto-Tune Tyrone
Other Songs from Music To Be Murdered By – Side B (Deluxe Edition) Album