Is there a way to buy your music?  I want to be able to download it instead of streaming it...

been listening to this almost daily for 4 years or so now. everything about this song is so beautiful and truthful, it never fades for me

Someone should do where they make AI generated art to this song’s lyrics

im not sad anymore thank you samsa you've always helped

samsa i miss u bruh i may have been so sad when i kistened to u but u helped me so much

This song is forever a part of my life thank you.

avian love with a dope beat by https://soundcloud.com/mavrickdlp
feedback is more than welcome! 

bubba - 2 birds [prod. De La Mav]

thank you for ALL the support 
mixed by @tevinwmusic
prod by @yungameba

music video: http://bit.ly/2yaRgA1


I like to think I’m well-equipped as any other average guy 
but I just can’t discover love and I don’t even set my standards high
on top of that, I’m camera shy, maybe I should opt-out of the dating pool
and be an undercover tinder samurai

cause I would rather type online than whisper in a dingy bar
and swiping left and right could be my new bushido ninja star
and I’m well-versed in virtual lovemaking ninjutsu 
on every profile pic I post, I’m posing with my shitzu
or flexing with my shirt off cause I heard that gets you hits too

Especially OkCupid, I’m like Eros or the cherubs be,
I pierce hearts of women with my cursor and my arrow keys
and disregard my Roman roots and choose a font that’s serif-free,

trust me,

 I’m a tinder bio brainiac
the way I kindle fire with matches, I’m a pyromaniac
on christian mingle, I’m a casanova,
if ya’ll don’t think so, y’all can ask Jehovah
check your inbox, he might send an answer over

I wish I had the muscles of a granite sculpture
I would log on ashleymadison and bang adulterers
I’m so lonely, I’ve considered farmers-only
just for someone’s arms to hold me
also, I’m really big on agriculture

but if I had that body of a grecian god
I would trawl on pof.com and use it as a fishing rod
and hope I don’t get catfish,
the fact is if I did, I’d probably play along cause god knows I could use the practice,

and if I’m aching for my roots, I’d visit shaadi.com
message islamic wahhabi hijabi hotties “salaam”
and sunni, shia, those are both denominations I respect
cause I just care for our connection, 

I don’t care about the sects

sometimes I uninstall my apps in reckless insurrectious rage
and then regret it while I check the craiglist missed connections page
and then I think that I should get out more and disregard my mobile cell
and get to know the local teller at my barnes and noble well
and check out what she’s reading while she’s charging up my total sale
and ask her if she likes the novel,
and once she answers, ask her if wants to grab some coffee or some ice cream waffles,
and she’d probably say that’s awesome, 

 I’d ask her when she’s off of work,

 she might answer “midnight”

 I’d tell her that sounds awful, 

what a bummer, and from somewhere
I might muster up the nerve to get her number,

 and I would ask her what her digits are
and if I play it right then I can disregard my ninja stars, 
say sayonara to katanas and my other weapons too 
and try committing by committing online dating seppuku

tinder samurai (video in description)

don't worry, the next song is a rap
happy thanksgiving 
thanks for all the support seriously
repost retweet recycle

mixed by @ibr
produced by @mt-marcy
shout out OTJ


you sent me a text at 3:07 late last night
you barely knew him, 
you only blew him,
 you had  a few drinks

as if that could  make things right

and soon you asked  about our future  
 well, my darling, here’s my  answer


I hope you burn in a house fire
I hope you get stage IV cancer 

I’d be by your bedside waiting 
 till your sweet goodbye, my friend
I’d resuscitate you just
so I could watch you die again 

I fucking hate you 
I fucking hate you

and I know what you’ll do,

you’ll say you’re sorry
through your smile
and I’ll stay angry 
for a while
and you’ll come over
and we’ll be sober


until we’re not,
and we would make out on my sofa
I'd wake up one morning sunny

with your arms around my chest,

and it’d feel so good to be with somebody

I just might forget

how's it going

you'll say sorry through your smile

prod @yungameba
mixed by @ibr
art by @ibr and me 
shouts to my crew @offthejump
thanks to @atlas for being a cool dude 
lyrics: http://genius.com/Samsa-feat-atlas-anthropocene-lyrics


I always knew that we’d be by each other’s side forever
now our time has come 
and I’d be satisfied if we died together
 
yeah, our climate’s fucked  
we might as well enjoy the weather
our time is up and I’d be satisfied 
if we died together

hit me up

anthropocene ft. atlas 🎉

youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqNQ-_Xoq2o
can't give enough credit to https://soundcloud.com/iamsamsa for coming through with crazy concepts on this gem. mad love to https://soundcloud.com/sagekyote for the killer production
lyrics:
scalpel to the heart trying to stop the bleeding 
symphonic Mozart echoes off the ceiling 
study symbols in each scar trying to catch some meaning
I’ve come to the conclusion yo I must be dreaming
yo I must be dreaming yo I must be dreaming
I’ve come to the conclusion yo we must be dreaming

wake up screaming
same dream that I’ve had for the past six years
it starts on a metal x building, feet are on the ledge, 
head starts tilting, teeter on the edge
and I jump off and it feels like a month long as I’m falling
then it cuts off as I plunge through an awning,
yawning, wake up and
I don’t really know what to make of it I
really wish these night terrors stopped
swear to god, these night mares are awful
scenes out a gothic novel, worst part is that I’m the author
x maybe I should call a doctor, maybe I should get a fucking shrink to see me,
whatever, turn on the TV, channel flip through a bunch of repeat
episodes of the twilight zone, flip to a sports channel with the highlights on,
through the primetime news and a lifetime film and a wildlife doc, then finally stop
on an infomercial
bout a controversial 
experimental, non-reversible
medical procedure
dream deletion, remove potential to dream while sleeping
and enjoy your rosy slumber
interested? call the toll-free number
one eight hundred 5867-633, fine print under, I ignore it 
just grab my phone, and dial the digits till I hear the tone, 
fingers fidget till I hear a lone voice across the speaker groan
thank you for calling
we’re no longer offering our service, I’m awfully sorry
we’re lawfully obligated to close off of our operation
thanks for your cooperation 
and they hang up
rang up their office a second time
and a third and a fourth and fifth and on the sixth I checked the line
to hear a voice give me directions to their office, there’s a sign
out front that says siesta inc in rustic print and when I find it
I should go up flights of stairs until I see a shining light and
walk through halls of doors until I get to room one hundred one
and as they talk I grab the keys and let my Civic’s engine run
and drive until I see the sign, and park my car and walk the floor
and run up flights of spiral stairs until I think I see the door
and open wide and step outside, behind me now the door is shut
I’m standing on a concrete ledge and must be 80 stories up
and as I’m slipping off the edge, I can feel my iPhone rung
and I pick up and hear the voice behind the metal echo “jump” “jump” “jump”
i must be dreaming, like i must be dreaming

flashback to the night before 
lucid swimming ocean floor 
following this motion towards 
the shore but I can barely make it
seems like everything is vacant 
except a solo lighthouse in the forest 
door is forced shut but I climb the ladder
at the top a sadder picture or illusion
eyes moving to a city left in ruins
past the woods, I draw conclusions 
wait, heard a sound 
return to ground, in the trees it seems louder
so I scatter after fractured laughter 
patterns in the distance hear it echo 
losing minutes as I let go of existence 
as I know it, tip toe into this wasteland 
lots of empty spray cans tagging no man’s land
on all the building torn down to pieces 
I wonder if man kinds now become an endangered species
and if so, what’s the purpose of my being?
I’ve come to the conclusion that I must be dreaming
man I’ve come to the conclusion that I must be dreaming
still can’t wake up so I see what all my dreams are really made of
as I follow through the wake of whatever massacre occurred
thoughts growing more disturbed passing every single curb
til I swerve into a burning sign and think
where else have I heard of Siesta Inc?

Silent Crowns

Spotify

Siesta ft. samsa (prod. Sage Kyote)

prod @rainlord
mixed by @ibr

lyrics: http://pastebin.com/BktFpHc4

look, I won’t pretend I understand it babe, the afterlife and all
but as you died you promised me that you would try to write or call
and I’ve been waiting ever since, every sunday I hold seances with like-minded adults
and roll your corpse into the living room and try and find your pulse and then repine at the results, I’ve even got my windowsills lined up with ultraviolet bulbs, shrunken shrines of human skulls and other signs of the occult but now I’m at a fucking loss, cause honey, nothing seems to work…
 
like I’ve been astrally projecting my body beyond my dreams
through the fabric of space and time so you could me spot me at the seams
I ventured through the upside-down hoping you caught me in between
but maybe if you’ve got the tech, then you could haunt me on my screens
 
like you should infiltrate my news feed
I swear no one would notice
you could float beside some bogus buzzfeed quiz about the POTUS
be a pixelated phantom ghost
on clickbait propaganda posts
and dictate what you’re thinking through a catchy headline
like “one weird reason why it’s great to be ethereal”
or “twenty signs you’re dead now and your soul is immaterial”
 
or if it’s late at night then you could swoop in from the shadow realm
and talk to me through pop-up ads that show up over adult films
on anything you’re into, we could start with milf, or facial,
you could beam your interspatial spirit into interracial
if you’re feeling sorta formal, we could pizza date on Skype
and I could call the coroner over n’ we could share the corner slice and when it’s time to go to bed, then we could leave our cameras on
and if the netherworld has one-day shipping free on Amazon
 
then you could slumber as you ship yourself, I swear this shit delivers quick
or send me the address and I could meet you by the river styx
I’d twitter beef with Namtar by the Tigris and Euphrates
I could snap you while I’m snagging sacred threads of life from Hades
I would loot Duat and photocopy-pirate the papyus,
change the records and then have a Facebook flamewar with Osiris  
and either way, I can’t wait to talk or reunite,
I’ve been so lonely since you died, I’ve tried to walk towards the light
and if the Gods of Death oppose our harmless want to reconvene
then maybe we could sneak you by ‘em if you haunt me through a screen

the rest of the lyrics: pastebin.com/BktFpHc4

haunt me on twitter

haunt me

prod. @corybear
mixed by @ibr

shout out stream squad

I think in I’m in love
but I’ve been feeling otherwise
these flutters in my stomach aren’t butterflies but cutting knives 
and not the butter kind, and if you listen close when she begins to speak, you’ll hear a couple hundred sighs and the collective shut of eyes, letters linger on her lips like lullabies, I think I’ve  drowned a couple times inside her opal-colored eyes, she could do something as simple as sit down with the grace of Olympic dives, a perfect 10 photo shutter finish on her cocoa butter thighs, X catch her wearing loose pajamas on a sunday and she’d overshadow any supermodel on a runway, when she wakes up in the morning up she smells like vanilla essence and the bittersweet recollections of your adolescence, summer camp and piano lessons and presents you got on birthdays, orange creamsicles and double plays on first base, and walk past her in the halls and if your shoulders feel the slightest brush then you might melt to liquid gold, the lightest kind of midas touch, I’ve seen the way she drinks espresso during classes and reshapes a paper cu p into an emerald-covered chalice, sugar packets pouring crystals, napkin origami cranes, gunning gorgeous glances to me through her giorgio armani frames, she’s nearly perfect in 
almost 
every
way 









. 



.


.
but she’s got shit taste in movies, ask her for her favorite titles and she always likes to say she’s down to go see anything by shyamalan or michael bay, and also, she’s a psycho in the kitchen, 
it’s a travesty, what kind of fucking monster cooks their pasta in the microwave? 
and she does this thing where she corrects your grammar if it’s wrong and clicks her tongue and winks and shoots a playful finger gun as if she’s won some sorta contest, empress victor-of-a-conquest, mrs. armchair shrink, let me fix you with a comment, princess kick you when you’re down, worshipper to a godhead, it seldom happens that she listens to my voice and doesn’t chime in quick with unsolicited advice, an unapologetic tyrant of passive aggressive rivalry, ask her a question and catch and handful of sass and irony, and trust me, she is just the worst at board games, debates about the rules like legislators at a court case, tampers with the scales of justice, wielding pencils as her gavel, once I even caught her cheating while she kept the score in scrabble, she’s a fucking wreck at checkers, plays monopoly sloppily, always bringing up disputes in games of trivial pursuit, sucks at battleship and risk, she fights better hand-to-hand, 
and don’t even get me started ‘bout how trash she is at candy land

but I’m no adonis either,
fashion sense abysmal, I’ve got two nirvana t-shirts 
that I wear to formal outings and I’ve never owned a cardigan,
catch me buyin’ cargo pants at target from the bargain bin
drink milk straight out the carton, use my hands to scoop out margarine
breakfast table etiquette makes up our morning arguments
and I’m not a glass half full kinda guy,
shipwrecked, flags half-mast hull kinda guy
I never was an optimist, not too good at compromise,
the problem is my ego’s far too fragile to apologize
but she always calls me out and takes me down a couple pegs too
it’s always nice to have somebody close who double-checks you
and honestly, we wouldn’t be ourselves if we were different 
yeah, she’s clumsy and I’m stupid, those are things that we can live with
being perfect’s unrealistic, either way I like our flaws
the way I crack my knuckles often, the obnoxious way she yawns
the way I stutter when I flirt cause I’m not very good with courtship
the way she’s gotta pee the first ten minutes of a road trip
how when she cuts her pancakes it’s in slices, not in squares
the way my daily coffee intake is a crisis, I'm aware
the way I talk in crowded theatre and the way she parks in parallel
the way she goes through pints of ben and jerrys salted caramel
the way...

slide in my DM's

butterflies

Off The Jump Presents a new single by @headhaunter and @iamsamsa

Produced by:
https://soundcloud.com/xmittens

Mixed by:
@ibr

Cover Art by:
@iamsamsa

Stay tuned on our Social Media

twitter.com/offthejumpmg

www.instagram.com/offthejump

and by visiting www.offthejvmp.com/

i’m not your average superhero, 
i don’t wear a cape or tights
and you won’t catch me slinging webs through cityscapes, 
i’m scared of heights
i’m not your textbook superhero
i can’t levitate or fly
but if you pass the sunday crossword, I won’t hesitate to try
i’m not the type  of vigilante who goes off avenging homicides
more the kind to just correct your comma splice,
constructive criticism supervillain, yes, i’m honest when I prompt advice
but even when a novice writes I always leave my comments nice, 
leap buildings in a single bound, y’all should see the way my fingers race
through city streets of letter keys whether double or single-spaced
faster than a speeding bullet
if you’re talking words per minute
write so comprehensive each bullet loin t holds the world within it  
power like a locomotive, discipline of sage strength 
essays that I write are twenty pages past the page length 
not the man of steel but when i sit to write i’ve got no kryptonite 
as long as i’ve got coffee i can sip tonight 
call me cyclops, i’ve got laser vision page revision,
not a next-gen x-men, but i’m crazy with the red pen  
mutant when I’m writing, yes, my drafts have got evolving genes
watch me wielding clauses like I'm wolverine

I’m not your average superhero, I don't mask my voice like this/
secret identity's dull, I don't see a point in it/
I'm not out here to save the world on day/night protocols/
I just take my Pryde in sentence structure, phase right through the walls of text/
polished, read a second time, kind of like Professor X/
but I read essay lines instead of minds until they're all correct/
triple check that proper punctuation ends it/
perfect verbs with fantastic nouns like Ben Grimm/
spin webs of any size and catch a reader's attention/
nab plagiarists like flies, I write with tingling senses/
swing right overhead with lines of super tensile strength/
fingers type like streaks of light, whether past or present tense/
I arrive just in time, type more than Cyborg/
not Robin, no red or green underline eye sores/
I channel Raven, write in style of Edgar Allen Poe/
no green eyes, but tackle any beast of rhetoric that you know/
they can call me any hour, but they view it as a lesser power/
when my essays get an A on top, like Avenger's tower/
in the meantime I think I'll go into hiding/
a reckless vigilante with his helmet on, still writing/

Headhaunter x samsa - Superlative Heroes

prod. @jhfly
art by rach, @passive155 on twitter

i miss the olden days
back when we would drive my civic off into the sunset, windshield glowing with a golden haze
i miss the simpler times
when you could pick me up at 4 am and hit the road and we would improvise 
with nothing in the GPS, back when we were free to roam
and brought a pillow with us so that anywhere could be our home
not the most romantic, but we planned out all our future dates
and snuck in every morning to cop breakfast at a super eight 
I’d waltz in past the front desk, then open the cafe door
you’d slink in and we’d have a banquet that we’d never pay for
two goody-two-shoes breaking all the rules, little rebels, we were perps
tryna hide our smirks while slipping fruity pebbles in your purse
and as we dipped out of the exit you would grin as if you’d robbed a bank
hop into our getaway and gun it on an empty tank
pull into an vacant station where our car’s the only one


there’s something meditative about the smell of fresh petroleum  



but things have changed since,

 cars are losing their appeal
it’s been decades since I’ve even gripped a steering wheel
elon built a hyperloop so no one drives drive a coupe no more,
people take their transit-pods through traffic on their private routes
china’s got a maglev train but I would never get aboard
in russia I heard they could program people so they teleport
point A to B, always know exactly where you’re headed for
remember when a road trip meant a sojourn, not a metaphor
remember rolling windows down with levers on the metal doors
and reaching back behind your seat to find that bag of kettle corn
one foot on the floorboard, then put on the gas
yearning for that rearview mirror, i’ve got one foot in the past

rearview

prod. @xmittens
mixed by @ibr

lyrics: https://genius.com/Samsa-technocrat-lyrics

technocrat

Private link to song(not sure if it still works) : https://m.soundcloud.com/iamsamsa/samsa-see-you-soon/s-fd5KL%E2%80%AC
I do not own this song, it belongs to Samsa. https://soundcloud.com/iamsamsa

samsa - See You Soon (unreleased)

for promo/business inquiries DM or email: tindersamurai@gmail.com

@offthejump

@atwoodotj
@ibr
@chriswrightotj
@toccimc
@hheadhaunter

anthropocene ft. atlas 🎉

samsa

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