My name's Hank Santana. I hate the world, I have my reasons, they all suck, and I don't care. Listen to my music if you want to feel like you just had the type of bad trip that leaves you realizing how much of a waste your whole life has been. If you have a weak constitution or grip on your reality, leave this page and put on your radio. Keep on being happy.
Well, I have been writing and recording social commentary/comedy tracks since 6th grade. In high school, my skills were honed to the point where I made my project public, dropping the cult classic Midgets & Hos, instantly making everyone in his school either a fan or enemy. The follow-up, Root Of Fred, was equally well and ill recieved from both sides. In the process of writing album #3, the anti-Hank Santana establishment stepped up to the bat, taking complaints of the antics of their classmate/least favorite rapper to their principal. Any original idea in this world counts as a threat, so they decided they had probable cause to comandeer all of my lyrics and kick me out of school. In order to finish up my time in high school, even though I would have much rather dropped out then and put as much distance between myself and the establishment as possible, my repressive father decided that my lyrics were going too far as well, and the forces locked our poor, tortured genious rapper in a mental hospital. Surrounded by black men seeking anger management and emo kids with fresh cuts every day, Hank Santana was aware that he was not crazy, just cursed with a clarity too clear for the blind to accept. So, named after the hospital holding him hostage, he recreated the lyrics that had been stolen from him and, upon leaving, had completed the writing process for the album that propelled him from school rapper to local celebrity, Straight Outta Bournewood. The album featured songs blasting the emo culture, ripping apart the newfangled obsession called MySpace, and featured the Cape Cod phenomenon Joel Joel Revolution, calling out the local pedophile/DDR scene to the point where lawsuits were threatened, pedos were begging gangsters to fight me, and I even had my first and only diss track recorded against me for it. After that, I went hard at work making an album of all just calling out local assholes, now that I knew they were all listening. Album #4, Nugget Down, kept the spotlight on me, especially with a little ditty called Cape Cod Scene Squad. Since then, the CDs Love Is Freedom and Where The Fun Begins And The Smiles End have dropped, along with a landslide of random songs after that, while I finish fine tuning a real album. New shit is recorded constantly, and hopefully soon, I will put together an epic album to surmise the whole history of Hank Santana, and from there, I am to begin taking this shit a little bit farther than some shitty little tourtist island turd dangling out of the asshole of Massachusetts.
Well, I have only done one live performance at a friends birthday party, and I can do one for you for the right (yet cheap) price. Or if I like you enough, all you really have to do is get me drunk in exchange for a rap.
I try and make every song feel like it's a hip-hop Weird Al who doesn't have to try to be funny. Weird Al spits jokes, I spit lines where you laugh in self defence.
You don't even want to know.
If you don't know what to take away with you from what you are listening to here, maybe it's best to take nothing at all.
