Kanye West’s new album, appropriately titled Yeezus, dropped today. Here’s a track-by-track breakdown written by a corporate drone as he listened, with details on how it effected his workday.
1. On Sight
Really wish I hadn’t downed that fifth cup of coffee, because this song is already giving me heart palpitations. Three of the first eleven words out of Kanye’s mouth are “fuck.” That’s how you know this album is going to be a classic.
I’m at my desk, violently mashing the decrease volume button to avoid judgment from passing coworkers, because there are some weird, computerized noises at play here. I mean, this beat is really out there. It can’t be controlled with a simple head nod. I’m quietly drumming dual pens on my desk, trying to keep up with it.
Someone just walked by and dropped a stack of paperwork on me. No idea who it was, or what I’m supposed to do with this shit. Don’t care. All ears on Kanye.
“Black Timbs all on your couch again. Black dick all in your spouse again. And I know she like chocolate men. She got more n****s off than Cochran.”
2. Black Skinhead
Two tracks in, and I’m wondering if I should have saved my first listen of Yeezus for the privacy of my apartment. Not sure I can control my crunk.
Martha from the HR department shot me a look of corporate disapproval when I accidentally rapped the second chorus aloud. As soon as she turned her back, I hit her with two resolute middle fingers. Who is she to judge me? Yeezy season is upon us. Thou shalt have swag. Fuck you, Martha.
“I keep it 300, like the Romans. 300 bitches, where the Trojans?”
3. I Am A God
It’s starting to get real in my cubicle. I’m bobbing my head like Muhammad Ali dodging punches. The next person who walks by and looks at me like I’m crazy is getting speared through the fucking window into the conference room. I am a God.
I might not have a secretary yet, but if I did, I’d tell her to hurry up with my damn croissants and then fire her when she didn’t get the reference.
“I just talked to Jesus. He said, ‘What up Yeezus?’ I said, ‘Shit I’m chillin’. Trying to stack these millions.’”
“I am a God, so hurry up with my damn massage. In a French-ass restaurant, hurry up with my damn croissants.”
4. New Slaves
I might not be able to identify with the struggle of the civil rights movement, or slavery, but I do hate my fucking boss. I dare that sweaty turd to come by my desk right now and say he needs me to work Saturday. I will straight up Crip walk on his lifeless body after putting his face through my monitor. I know that we’re the new slaves.
“Fuck you and your corporation. Y’all n****s can’t control me.”
“You see there’s leaders, and there’s followers, but I’d rather be a dick than a swallower.”
5. Hold My Liquor
This track is all about boozing, and I’m about that life. God, I can’t wait for happy hour. I’m throwing down at least ten Miller Lites tonight for Yeezy. I hate everyone in this corporate hell. Only Mr. West understands me.
At this point, my coworkers are afraid to make eye contact with me. They know I’m not to be trifled with. I banged out a couple email responses during this song to keep up appearances, but who knows if they even made sense. I’m in the fucking zone, muchacho.
“When I parked my Range Rover, slightly scratched your Corolla. Okay, I smashed your Corolla. I’m hanging on a hangover.”
6. I’m In It
This is some sexual stuff right here, and with some serious thump in the trunk. Pretty sure I just blew the speaker in my left earbud, and possibly a load in my Dockers, as I am now fully erect. Time to put the keyboard in my lap.
“Your titties, let ‘em out, free at last. Thank God almighty, they free at last.”
7. Blood On The Leaves
I don’t know what this song is about, but I know it gets me heated. Last Thursday I asked my lawyer buddy John’s secretary to grab a drink after work, and she responded, “Maybe some other time.” Maybe not, bitch. We could’ve been somebody.
I just Instagrammed a mean mug selfie at my desk and hashtagged #YeezySeason.
“She Instagram herself like #BadBitchAlert. He Instagram his watch like #MadRichAlert.”
“Now you sittin’ courtside, wifey on the other side. Gotta keep ‘em separated, I call that apartheid.”
8. Guilt Trip
There’s some crazy Jamaican dude yelling on this song, and I can’t understand him, but I like it. Maybe I should start hitting the clubs again like when I was in my early twenties. I’ll just post up in a dark corner with a G&T, looking like a boss, and let the hoes flock.
“Star Wars fur, yeah I’m rockin’ Chewbacca.”
9. Send It Up
My boss just came by and angrily slapped a note on my desk that said: “TAKE OFF THE HEADPHONES.” Things escalated quickly. I pulled the headphones from my computer so that the entire office was exposed to the truth of Yeezus, and then I straight up flipped my desk, Bobby Knight style.
Peace out, bitches. On to the next one. This job was merely a stepping stone.
“She say, ‘Can you get my friends in the club?’ I say ‘Can you get my Benz in the club?’ If not, treat your friends like my Benz. Park they ass outside ‘til the evening end.”
10. Bound 2
This jam was perfect for the peaceful cruise home, with a cardboard box filled with my belongings in the passenger seat, and a smoking cig between my lips. It had been almost two years since I quit ripping cancer sticks, but fuck it…it’s Yeezy season.
Time to hit LinkedIn, again.
“I wanna fuck you hard on the sink. After that, give you something to drink.”