Ghais Guevara The Kayfabe
[Intro: Ghais Guevara & [?]]
For Oedipus to be occupied, it is not enough that it be a limit or a displaced represented in the system of representation
It must migrate to the heart of this system and itself come to occupy the position of the representative of desire
These conditions, inseparable from the paralogisms of the unconscious, are realized in the capitalist formation
Look
[Chorus]
How you ballin'? What's your timin'?
You gotta stand on my young nigga wisely
You my Jouissance, rival, rifle
And my mama ban guns out of spitе
Off K9, I feel alright (Huh)
I didn't choose this life (Huh)
Images I dеal enough to trick my eyesight
[Verse 1: Ghais Guevara & [?]]
He was wearing 'mani had to tell
Had his foot up in the door with the grin of a god and the skin of a ghost
Transparent with all the riot individuals
If I tell you 'bout, uh, would you let me stay over?
Don is off the [?], how could you say no?
He hit that powder and up that score
You skip, you pounce, you pull them close
And chastity is champion when you cradlin' 'em
Budge your baby's fam, now you babysit
Furthermore, they imply certain archaisms borrowed from the imperial-barbarian formations, in particular the position of the transcendent object
The capitalist style is described by D'Angelo as a democratic, industrial order of things whose style is ‘my dear little daddy-mommy-me'
[Chorus: Ghais Guevara]
How you ballin'? What's your timin'?
You gotta stand on my young nigga wisely
You my Jouissance, rival, rifle
And my mama ban guns out of spite
Off K9, I feel alright (Huh)
I didn't choose this life (Huh)
Images I deal enough to trick my eyesight
[Bridge: Ghais Guevara]
She was pure like snow, so you know how it go
Mama done and did me dirty so I ain't tryna grow
(Okay, okay)
She was pure like snow, so you know how it go
Mama done and did me dirty so I ain't tryna grow
(Okay, okay)
[Verse 2: Ghais Guevara]
You remind me of a fantasy, my love
Straight from a magazine, my love
Life is arborescent, must confess, it's hard to see, my love
I ran them drills to be that thug, and images that you put up
I figured if I slid like cuz, then there'd be truths within my raps
I tolerated identities that never ran [?] unattached
I run away to tabernacles where deities make time rattle
[Outro: [?]]
It's clear what psychoanalysis expects to gain from claiming a link
Where Oedipus would be the object of repression, and even it's subject during the intermediary of the super-ego
From this, it expects a cultural justification for psychic repression, but justification that makes psychic repression move into the foreground, and no longer considers the problem of social repression as anything more than secondary from the point of view of the unconscious
That is why critics have been able to observe a conservative or reactionary turning point in Freud
From the moment that he gave an autonomous value to psychic repression as a condition of a culture acting against the incestuous tribes
