Thornton's early career and lyrics with the Ultramagnetic MC's often referenced his time as a patient of Bellevue, a psychiatric hospital, where he was treated for depression. With Ultramagnetic MC's, his abstract style developed, maturing in songs like Poppa Large. He was probably the first rapper to create an alter ego, and then create an alter ego for that alter ego (Kool Keith v. Moe Luv). After the Ultramagnetic MC's broke up, he expanded his resume, experimenting with new styles, including his self-described pornocore, known for pornographic imagery and brutal, abstract lyrics. Sex Style released in 1997, was the showcase for this genre.
Teaming up with Dan the Automator Nakamura under the name Dr. Octagon, Thornton again reinvented his image, recording the self-titled Dr. Octagon album (later reissued under the title Dr. Octagonecologyst) which was released by the English trip hop label Mo Wax. The album received critical acclaim, though mainly from sources outside the mainstream hip-hop community. The critical success of the album helped to open the accessibility of the underground hip hop scene to an appreciative audience. For Dan the Automator, this album laid the foundation for a burgeoning career and accolades as a producer; for Thornton, the success of Dr. Octagonecologyst seemed to put him in danger of being typecast as a "space and Mars" rapper, or an industry tool, which he throughout his career has looked down upon.
His style as a whole is characterized by non sequiturs and bizarre commentary, particularly anal, fecal and genital references. For example, "Chief administrator suck my oil," "Dr. Ludicrous I turn into an octopus," "All this jealousy shit is mayonnaise and celery shit," "Two drinks minimum, don't worry, we're maximum," etc. An instrumental version of the album, Instrumentalyst, showcased the production, became a rising success with most of the credit given to Dan the Automator and other collaborators, even though Thornton is credited on the LP with some production duties.
List of projects, groups and alter-egos:
- Ultramagnetic MC's
- Dr. Octagon
- Dr. Dooom
- Sinister 6000 (Dan the Automator)
- Black Elvis
- Masters of Illusion
- Analog Brothers
- Mr. Nogatco
- Project Polaroid
- Tashan Dorset
- Sex Style
- Ultra
- The Cenobites
- Sergei Khmelev
(this list is incomplete)
Little Girls
Kool Keith Lyrics
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I just turned off the TV man
Kids out there be thinkin they hardcore man
We gotta do somethin man yo
{Little girls.. think they're hardcore..} (4X)
[Kool Keith]
You got nine cars tons of champagne by the cases
Two thousand people killed fake murder cases
Videos exaggerate things you never make
Your style is all tissue chocolate fudge cream cake
The companies back you people out there want to slap you
Original fraud, funny with a mic cord
Persuadin kids that you hard, every stage you tour
Cold scared you in a motel, you can't come out
After the show, with panties on, you hurry run out
You petrified hallucinatin thinkin hardcore
You got the style now, you have to roll with 50 people
Lookin hard and mean, you ain't pullin triggers
Did you pay your bodyguards, for actin hard?
You get pistol-whipped, booty tapped, face scarred
Down and out, with camouflage gear, and no war
You ain't in the army kid..
{Little girls.. think they're hardcore..} (3X)
[Kool Keith]
Now your show's packed up, you're gassed up
I'm there you're scared
You just turned twat, looked away feelin weird
You on the walkie talkie standin close near the door
Thinkin bout your records how you pop doo-doo more
Posses wait in Texas, Detroit for the bumrush
You bringin rubber, your crew is nervous smokin dust
You perpetrate your front, show your teeth, smokin blunts
Rappers cancel shows, ran away with stunts
Your manager scared, with ghetto mugs starin at him
Your crew pressured more, to even act harder
You took New York, down South them folks, wasn't havin that
Three kids from D.C. pulled out, what you laughin at?
You ran out, funny style, girl style, panty style
Freestyle the same style last week
you was bitin off that kid Bo Peep
With no panties on, your rectum got torn
Rearranged, I caught you after the show
Naked out, butt out, cracked out, with two rolls of film
Tryin to sell pictures of your lover
with you, molestin your little brother
I smacked you and stole your pistols
{Little girls.. think they're hardcore..} (4X)
[Kool Keith]
Tommy, didn't I raise you to go to Catholic school?
But mom, I gotta keep this up, this is all a front
This is just gimmicks to sell my records
The people don't have to know
I mean really, that's just me, even though we're soft
Me and my friends all of us
We just make money, that's all, it's a gimmick
In Kool Keith's song Little Girls, the rapper critiques those who claim to be hardcore and tough. He accuses them of putting on a facade to sell records and gain fame. Keith points out the unreal state of these people's lives, saying they have lots of cars, champagne, and fake murder cases, which are all part of an act to deceive their audience. He calls them out for persuading kids that they are hard and for perpetrating themselves as people who have authority, but in reality, they are all talk and no action. Keith emphasizes his point by using examples of little girls who think they are hardcore and how they do not understand the reality of what it means to be a hardcore individual.
Keith includes details that paint pictures of the little girls. For example, they run backstage after concerts with their panties on, they are hallucinating and run around with bodyguards, pretending to be tough. Keith exposes them with the fact that they have no idea about a real war or military gear. He questions whether they pay their bodyguards to act hard or have a real experience about it. In the end, Keith steals their fake pistols and critiques their lifestyle, calling them out on their gimmicks and facade.
Line by Line Meaning
You got nine cars tons of champagne by the cases
You portray yourself as being wealthy, but it's all a facade
Two thousand people killed fake murder cases
You exaggerate and spread negative content that's untrue
Videos exaggerate things you never make
Your music videos make fake things seem real
Your style is all tissue chocolate fudge cream cake
Your style is weak and fake
The companies back you people out there want to slap you
You're backed by corporations, but that doesn't mean your audience respects you
Original fraud, funny with a mic cord
You're not real or original, but you're good at pretending with a microphone
Persuading kids that you hard, every stage you tour
You try to convince young people that you're tough wherever you perform
Cold scared you in a motel, you can't come out
You're scared to come outside after a show
After the show, with panties on, you hurry run out
You flee after your concerts in a hurry, wearing women's underwear
You petrified hallucinating thinking hardcore
You're afraid and delusional about being tough
You got the style now, you have to roll with 50 people
Because of your fake persona, you have to be surrounded by a lot of people
Lookin hard and mean, you ain't pullin triggers
Even though you act tough, you're not actually violent
Did you pay your bodyguards, for actin hard?
You have to pay people to act like they're protecting you because you're worried about your image
You get pistol-whipped, booty tapped, face scarred
You're in danger of physical harm because of the way you act
Down and out, with camouflage gear, and no war
You have people dressed in military clothing, but there's no actual war happening
Now your show's packed up, you're gassed up
After the show, you're agitated and on edge
You just turned twat, looked away feelin weird
You suddenly act uncool and feel uneasy
You on the walkie talkie standin close near the door
You're on a walkie-talkie near the exit, possibly worried about an attack
Thinkin bout your records how you pop doo-doo more
You're preoccupied with selling records, even if the content is low-quality
Posses wait in Texas, Detroit for the bumrush
You have people waiting to protect you in other cities
You bringin rubber, your crew is nervous smokin dust
You have condoms and your crew is anxious and using drugs
You perpetrate your front, show your teeth, smokin blunts
You put on a fake persona and display it by smoking marijuana
Rappers cancel shows, ran away with stunts
Other rappers have canceled shows and avoided danger while you're putting yourself at risk
Your manager scared, with ghetto mugs starin at him
Your manager is frightened, and people in poor neighborhoods are watching him closely
Your crew pressured more, to even act harder
Your entourage is under more pressure to pretend to be tough
You took New York, down South them folks, wasn't havin that
You thought you could conquer New York, but people in other regions didn't care for your act
Three kids from D.C. pulled out, what you laughin at?
Three people from Washington D.C. threatened you with weapons, so there's nothing to joke about
You ran out, funny style, girl style, panty style
You left in a cowardly and embarrassing way, reminiscent of how a girl might run
Freestyle the same style last week
You're not original, and you're repeating yourself
You was bitin off that kid Bo Peep
You're stealing ideas and copying from other artists
With no panties on, your rectum got torn
Some kind of harm was inflicted upon you that affected your lower body
Rearranged, I caught you after the show
I encountered you again after the show, but something was different about you
Naked out, butt out, cracked out, with two rolls of film
You were unclothed, and your buttocks were exposed, while you had two film rolls with you
Tryin to sell pictures of your lover with you, molesting your little brother
You were attempting to sell images of yourself and a minor family member in a sexually exploitative scenario
I smacked you and stole your pistols
I had to physically correct your behavior and take your weapons because of your dangerous and disturbing actions
Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Peermusic Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Written by: KEITH THORNTON, KURT MATLIN
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind