Busdriver Bio, Age, Songs,Lyrics and Twitter

Last Updated on August 7, 2022 by Administrator

Busdriver Biography

Busdriver is an American rapper and producer from Los Angeles, California. He has collaborated with rappers such as Myka 9, Milo, Nocando, Open Mike Eagle, 2Mex, and Radioinactive. He was born as Regan Farquhar.

Busdriver

His primary producers have been Daedelus, Boom Bip, Daddy Kev, Loden, Paris Zax, Omid, and Nobody. He has also worked with D-Styles on two albums.

Busdriver Age

He was born on February 12, 1978, Los Angeles, California, U.S. 

Bus Driver Songs

  • “Walking Dead” (2000)
  • “Get on the Bus”  (2001)
  • “Party Pooper (2002)
  • “Imaginary Places” (2002)
  • “Touch Type”  (2003)
  • “Smart Buyer” (2004)
  • “Avantcore” (2005)
  • “Viacom Puppeteer” (2006)
  • “Kill Your Employer” (2006)
  • “Sun Shower” (2007)
  • “Ellen Disingenuous” (2008)
  • “Me-Time  (2009)
  • “I Did Crimes Behind Your Eyelids
  • “Leaf House” (2011)
  • “ATM” (2011)
  • “Superhands’ Mantra” (2012)

Busdriver Imaginary Places Lyrics

I’m just here to hold your hand when you die
and to show you around Imaginary Places
Putting many lumps on my bloody stump
Edible habits so I bit the perfect circle
Die in your sleep with the sky at your feet
I’ll shoot you when your happy on the day that you will find peace
How did you do it? I don’t know, I’m OK!
Every person I know is a secret sorta, agent
’cause I’m accused of lewd conducts
All prove hard to rate the prompts(?)
Any kind of rumor for em, may they rest to put me in a loony bin
A funny farm a coo-coo but they need a villain
I’m just here to hold your hand when you die
There is not a sicker person that can do it better
No need to skip it in my ecosystem
But in the audience of me being evil Christian
H.M. know how I hate him so
But he charged me for a halo
But I’m on a scavenger hunt for a map with a chunk
of a sky mirror, I’ll go crazy with a mud pie
I play dead songs on the sill screen
Iron my shirt it is a chill dream
It is on to lead away to the stairwell till we gut him in it
straight up from the center finally fair-well
I’m just here to hold your hand when you die
and to give your assault rifle a banana clip
Flow in the dark when I stroll in the park
giving everybody informative pamphlets
No sign of life for as far as I can see
Everybody’s just charred meat up in the car seat
“Eat shit and die” to the secret spy
’cause I have this funny feeling that I’m being watched
24-hour surveillance
Money or power or ailments
Why’d they send the medical that he shimmered me the hammer
it was way too much you coulda went and had 200?
I’m just here to hold your hand when you die
Psycho better cause trouble running for your soft spot
Late market closed, and the irk on her nose
Turned into a deadly gas flowin through the air ducts
She’s had no love for the thought that she was
She doesn’t love me ’cause I don’t have the right hair cut
I’m miss-understood, I just face it, I’m no good!
But I will not apologize for anything that I say
My name is Mr. Busdriver
This is the producer, Paris
We did not embarrass to admit that we were purchasing a bit
of our own Imaginary Place!!
Kids…if you want to piss off your parents
show interest in the arts…
Kids…if you REALLY want to piss off your parents
buy real estate in an Imaginary Place…oh yes…
OK, OK, alright!
Yea…now…move!
Guess I gotta do my shout outs now…
(Peace to…)
I’m just here to hold your hand when you die
Paris and Daddy care, they’ll also be there too
I’m just here to hold your hand when you die
Unless you get the ? senamums? to her, we’ll help you
I’m just here to hold your hand when you die
Feel the fellowship announced everyone will help you
I’m just here to hold your hand when you die
Shoulda been an empire Hip-Hop clan too
I’m just here to hold your hand to die
I’m just here to hold your hand when you
Just here to hold your hand…
when you die…

Busdriver Worlds To Run Lyrics

This slack-jaw mealy-mouth
I mumble when I’m ’round the house
I’m trying not to do no chores today
Crying in my underwear
I lost my sense of wonder there
No, I’m not Milan Kundera
Though this lightness is unbearable
The feeling is indelible
I’m wishing I could teleport somewhere
Transmolecularize through the secular eye
I remember when Vegeta stomped Bardock’s neck in
Two prayer hands to the heavens, good Lord, bless Him
I was a broke slob watching Ghost Dog writing Post Hoc
If I could muster just one good throat chop
And honor my shidoshi, ’cause ‘dim mak’ means ‘death touch’
I have been Spock, I been clutch
In thin socks, I’m butthurt
Impervious pervert with niggerish fervor
Crashing Linux server
Who didn’t even change his laundry over
Who needs to buy toilet paper
Indie rapper, sorta faker
‘Cuz I couldn’t afford a mortgage or a Studebaker
‘Cuz I couldn’t afford a mortgage or a Studebaker

[Chorus: Anderson.Paak]
When you’re deep in the raw
Everybody wants to get a piece of your heart
There’s only so much truth you can keep in your bowl
Speak your piece, but words are too harsh

[Post-Chorus: Busdriver]
Overspoke my piece
I’m known in the streets
When you’re deep in the raw
There’s only so much truth you can keep in your jaw

(So what you saying?)
I can run the world from my mama’s house
I can run the world from my mama’s house
I can run the world from my mama’s house
I can run the world

[Verse 2: Busdriver]
Every song responds to a threat
Every laundered dollar is wet
But if a mom’s like a song torn breath
But as long as I can ponder the depth
And the king sorta stinks of lunacy
I roam the rinks in sync with the jinx that are having me sink the moon and the sea
Bankers clink drinks as they uplink to the sphinx’s coonery
I’m on the brink, I could fill my sink with the king’s jewelry
Yeah, who is he? Driver—lion from a dead world
Sole practitioner of his customs and know the RPM of your head twirl

Driver old as fuck
My daughter old enough to vote
Rap songs blowing up on the coast
Loyal subjects rolling up that smoke
As I dictate terms from an ensnarled perch
Yeah, and Leimert Park is Winterfell
Rumors I learn to Splinter Cell and pitches sale from Mike’s Citadel
Exact an explicit Hell
Empty the fire and sway
My music on Pirate’s Bay as my elusive alliances’ fray
I collude with a silent clay and infuse a vibrant day
With a soothing eye in decay—putting food on the dining tray
Yeah, I can do this my way
Welcome home

[Chorus: Anderson.paak]
When you’re deep in the raw
Everybody wants to get a piece of your heart
There’s only so much truth you can keep in your bowl
Speak your piece, but words are too harsh

[Bridge: Busdriver]
When I was a younger man
I could feel the entire world
But now that I’m older…

[Post-Chorus: Busdriver]
When you’re deep in the raw
There’s only so much truth you can keep in your jaw
(So what you saying?)
I can run the world from my mama’s house
I can run the world from my mama’s house
I can run the world from my mama’s house
I can run the world

When you’re deep in the raw
There’s only so much truth you can keep in your jaw
(So what you saying?)
I can run the world from my mama’s house
I can run the world from my mama’s house
I can run the world from my mama’s house
I can run the world

Busdriver Temporary Forever

Temporary Forever is a studio album by American rapper Busdriver. It was released on Temporary Whatever in 2002. It features guest appearances from Radioinactive, Rhetoric, Of Mexican Descent, and Aceyalone.

Most of the tracks were recorded and mixed by Daddy Kev, who is a co-executive producer of the album. All scratching on the album was done by D-Styles.

John Bush of AllMusic gave the album 4 stars out of 5, saying, “the album has so many incredible ideas and catchy riffs that it trumps entire careers by some rappers out there.”He added, “Temporary Forever introduces one of the most imaginative talents to ever grace the rap world.”

In 2008, Vibe included it on the “24 Lost Rap Classics” list. Sean Fennessey wrote, “his adenoidal flow, a breathless bundle of consonants and exclamation points, will challenge anyone looking to tune the MC out.”

In 2015, HipHopDX included it on the “30 Best Underground Hip Hop Albums Since 2000” list

Busdriver Perfect Hair

Perfect Hair is a studio album by American rapper. It was released on September 9, 2014, by Big Dada. The album features guest appearances from Aesop Rock, Danny Brown and Open Mike Eagle, among others.

The cover art was painted by John Lurie. Music videos were made for “Ego Death”, “Colonize the Moon”, “Eat Rich” and “Motion Lines”.

On June 20, 2014, “Ego Death” was chosen by Consequence of Sound as one of their Top 10 Songs of the Week.

Perfect Hair received generally positive reviews from critics. At Metacritic, which assigns a normalizedrating out of 100 to reviews from mainstream publications, the album received an average score of 74, based on 10 reviews.

Adam Kivel of Consequence of Sound said: “Wild, insanely ambitious, and a bit inconsistent, Perfect Hair encodes and decodes the ideas, opinions, and deconstructions that can only come from Farquhar’s brain.

 David Jeffries of AllMusic said, “Perfect Hair contains all the usual reasons Busdriver is wonderful, just with a little more sugar baked in.” Grant Brydon of Clash said, “The rollercoaster ride of his delivery makes it an enjoyable experience rather than a textbook headache.

 Matt Bauer of Exclaim! said, “A few duds abound, like the wearisome “Eat Rich”, but the album ends strongly with the sci-fi-flavored “Colonize the Moon”.Jack Dutton of musicOMH said, “Although this album is at times a difficult listen, you can’t help but admire Busdriver for his innovation and general wackiness.

Nathan Stevens of PopMatters said, “Perfect Hair is no doubt a great album, but its tendency to fidget between ideas leaves it the idea of cohesion in a shallow grave.”

 Busdriver Ego Death Lyrics

[Intro: Aesop Rock (Busdriver)]
Yeah, no, I understand what you’re saying, but… is it sexier than torture?
(shah, yeah, Los Angles)
(Under the cellulite laden thigh of the night)
(Yeah, oh shoot, lemme see if I can finish this)
(Okay, let’s go, yeah)
(We can make this better (x3))

[Verse 1: Busdriver]
Under the cellulite laden thigh of the night
I slip miniature mantras between my cries and gripes
Jewel-flavored crystals in the red, blue, and white stripes
While crowds throw numbers at me like The Price is Right
And downtime is never met with an overjoyed grin
Cause sleep and death have always been conjoined twins
You’d rather lick the red gills of pop art
Than your cement-filled pockmarks
The withering tendrils from my wrought heart
Reach for a Benadryl like it was a lost ark
Cause my average day is for the body of aegis, they’re prompting these sieges
We cry to these seniors, living inside of splotchy Adidas
Serving consecutive sentences
My corrective lenses is ruby quartz
Yet my vision ain’t worth a jiggling of booty warts
Circumstances trap writers like Kathy Bates
Under a decolorized happy face
So my car ain’t covered in candy paint
But still, the nanny state can’t fix the diaper rash
I’m pinging this on a cybercast
Questioning news items playing pattycake with Ira Glass
The fact that this pony show’s racist
Stirs the colloquial cake mix and charges the homeostasis
Of all the homies who await us like we some Smokin’ Joe Fraziers
But my unchecked whining’s like some ceremonial plate shift

[Hook: Busdriver]
We can make this better, but we’re not, yes we will
We’re just looking for something inside us to kill
We can make this better, but we’re not, yes we will
We’re just looking for something inside us to kill
We can make this better, but we’re not, yes we will
We’re just looking for something inside us to kill
We can make this better

[Verse 2: Aesop Rock]
Before long, boil the bones
A little celery chop
A little pepper, a little milk of the poppy
Little posse in effect
Analog mono-poly Man’o’War
Walloping the auto-poly avatar
Mind on his Mallomars
Money on the iron lung
Clumsy with the can of worms
Usher you behind the sun
He shoots he whores, truly stupid troubadours, and elders
Stock the shelter with frijoles and blueberry New York Seltzers
Roll up in a pa-diddle like a doofus
Hit the corner like the devil is a cubist
I’m ruthless, the sigil is a dog with a cone, feeling foolish
Seven hells calling all foreseeable futures
Be it obtained culprit
Crippling migraine and strange stomach
Or a stray bullet through his gray mullet
I am ivy up the god damn lattice
March to the math rock
Raw, no cartoon mascot
The Mario pajama bottoms clumsily rappelling
Under a gibbous moon
Hunting for shitty food
Gunning, too tough, embedded in bad magic
Duckboy, shit is quacktastic

[Bridge: Busdriver]
I’m not done yet
I’m not done yet
I’m not done yet
I’m not done yet

[Hook:]
We can make this better, but we’re not, yes we will
We’re just looking for something inside us to kill
We can make this better, but we’re not, yes we will
We’re just looking for something inside us to kill
We can make this better, but we’re not, yes we will
We’re just looking for something inside us to kill
We can make this better

[Verse 3: Danny Brown]
Rap Marilyn Manson, about as hot as a Vanson
With two hoodies on the beach with two bitches crump dancin’
Rappers put your bets in, last man standin’
Bars hit so hard you ricochet off the planet
The motherfucking hybrid, tell Miley Cyrus text me
When I holler to her private I’m tryna get them privates
Parts, don’t start, take heart like Kano
Remember when I told to you niggas drink all the Dran-o
Pop all the pills take all the lines
Chop through a window with some sawblade blinds
Back on that shit, guess what this time?
Half a stick of dynamite where the sun don’t shine
Any nigga disrespecting, chin check ’em ’til he’s slinky-neck
Blowing dope, eyes low and chinky like I’m Mannie Fresh
Countdown to extinction, no nigga not Megadeath
So many dead rappers, can’t even take baby steps
Walking over carcasses of artists in my garden
Been nice with this shit since Nas was writin’ past the margin
Any nigga wanna start it, I fuckin’ beg your pardon
I’m with arson, I’m the firestarter; Prodigy invent the art
Smack my bitch up in the mouth with my dick
And it’s not domestic violence cause she likes that shit
There’s no sentence to describe it, homie
Except she sucked it like her fucking life depended on it

[Hook: Busdriver]
We can make this better, but we’re not, yes we will
We’re just looking for something inside us to kill
We can make this better, but we’re not, yes we will
We’re just looking for something inside us to kill
We can make this better, but we’re not, yes we will
We’re just looking for something inside us to kill
We can make this better

[Outro]
Aes Rizzo ain’t got that perfect hair
Danny Brown ain’t got that perfect hair
Driver ain’t got that perfect hair
Jeremiah Jae ain’t got that perfect hair

Busdriver Twitter

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