Its PT, fuck pullin' over

Side-effect of last week's nasty sickness is my left ear is blocked so you get the mono review of PT's new horn-blasted get-buck anthem. Pastor Troy is that guy inside your head who knows today is Friday and its time to unleash the fucking fury, like "maybe a half hour early you can dip out without the boss seeing you" over double-time hi-hats. It's some of that tear-the-shit-up stuff you love, enveloping classic distrust for the law, that amped energy that balls up in yr chest and ends up unleashed from your volvo speakers in the sunshine, with all the distorted, ear-bleeding force of a thousand trumpets, like a drunk wiling out in the streets at T.I.'s coronation, or later that night under dim red lighting with with all the apocolyptic power of a couple top-popped 40s, people shaking their heads n dreads, swinging elbows and glancing around like they lost control, convulsing and bumping, the living incarnation of aggressive don't-give-a-fuck. Then you wake up the next morning reeking of Kool smoke and some girl's cheap perfume with cherubs revolving around your head singing sweet echoes of "PT Cruiser"'s chorus in yr ear:
POLICE CANT BREAK IT UP, CAINT NO BOUNCERS BREAK IT UP...

Pastor Troy - Police Can't Break It Up

(out tuesday)