if design dictates function, what am i? w/ autumn keys

much like me, this song is built entirely of metaphors

unscramble them to find the truth

@tomcbumpz

i don't crave death, i just crave peace (prod. tomcbumpz)

much like summer as it dwindles through fields of its own heat and collapses into fall, i will slip slowly into sleep much easier as time passes by. 

i still fail to recognize, love or accept myself, but i think i'm coming closer to achieving that goal with each passing moment. 

thank you all; stay radiant. 

radiant

rescue me (prod. ¿HUH?)

smile (prod. plcmnt)

hey, thanks for 50k <3

lil vocal acting by my homies jake & marcus <3

lyrics:
i think that now i'd call myself a wordsmith
but not because of talent of ability
it's more that i can balance the facilities
of living as a human, while i'm sittin' here decal-ing my sililoquies
and i guess it makes sense, in that regard
i use my brain as a capture card
inhalin' every word i stumble upon
to try to catalog 'em all before the rapture starts

so you can tag along and follow all the wacky antics
like all my stupid problems that relapsing can't fix
"keep your head up out the sand, stop scratching that wrist
before you turn into another anxious ativan kid"
well i guess it's too late... a couple hundred panic states passed
and my broken self ran away fast
feels like i lost my body in a hand grenade blast
with all this absence in my soul, and i can't evade that

so i'm stuck... trapped in a painting of myself
that was made before i changed how i felt
i'm hoping that my other friends can break out and help
but to be honest, it seems like they've greyed out as well
i constantly remember back in high school
sneaking out to kick it with no pay stubs
everything was simpler then, i guess
i only feel free when there's something to escape from

so i'll keep writing songs of longing for the olden
looking to the future for my confidence and boldness
it certainly isn't here, and neither am i
but i think that we've established that enough to decide
that it's time for a change; or, rather, time to revert
'cause we all sorta miss the designs that we were
and maybe nowadays what i write's more diverse
but the patrick years back didn't understand hurt

and that hurts

a wistful remembrance

wordsmith ii (prod. purpan)

produced by @aimless-beats
art by twitter.com/ahahamadork

back at it again

i write inside of the eye of the storm
with a hyphen-divided title that sidles by in the shadows
hyper-drive when you trying to ride beside in the morn
with that iodine on my clothing, i wash it out with the form
no pauses, no breaks, and i don't talk to no fakes no more
they all snakes, no more of that
i could write a gorgeous rap and probably make a quarter sack
but i would rather throw it like a quarterback

motherfuckers hoarded that style, and now they bored of it
i'm bored of y'all, i wish half these cats in my tapestry acted more involved
i wish they'd address me as majesty when i tour the mall
and i wish all the haters that message me could afford it all
it's kinda sad, i don't know what it's like to rhyme that bad
i don't know what it's like to be that kind of mad
i do know what it's like, to sit looking back at the times they had
in passing, but i'm focused on pressing pencil to writing pad aptly

and i don't mean to end abruptly
but i seem to be disgusting all the people here to judge me
and that's lovely, while y'all are obsessing over some painted nails
i'm hopping the safety rails, exiting while the train derails
and this is patience, stale as ever in the passing sense
frail as ever, such a fragile wimp to battle with... yeah
and i don't mean to be a masochist
but after all the shit y'all put me through, i'm kinda glad ya' did

'cause i don't really care for the world these days
the world these days
i got too many homies out here seeing early graves
seeing early graves
and everything is dull when the world's such a boring gray
such a boring gray
i got too many homies out here seeing early graves
seeing early graves

early graves (prod. aimless)

download <3

and i'll carry my pen like a sword
(thanks to @nosentences for the sample)

lyrics:
and so i meander this hallway
and try not to step on the cracks in the floor
don't think i know how to relax anymore
everything's either passive or coarse
either passing the course with the masses
or passing the torch that they using to scorch all the fabric
bask in the fourths on the staff
'til the core notes collapse in the tracklists

and i watch 'em all fall to the floor, watch 'em shatter into pieces
always knew i didn't matter in the thesis
didn't ask much, never tried to paint on my mirror
to make my own face any clearer
but things that used to be compliments
feel like insults now
things that used to be compliments
feel like insults now

i'll walk a million miles away
'til my insoles turn into dust
don't want my kinfolk hurting as much as i did
when i first learned to burden this rut
speak like an arcade cabinet with arcane sadness
lost in a pac-man maze where the ghosts are never blue
and the weather, too
it's all dark and dismal 'til a better mood

see, i lost my mind in a health potion
they all want mine once the wealth goes in
mind so bright, sense of self so dim
'cause i hid my old ways in the trunk
but things that used to be compliments
feel like insults now
things that used to be compliments
feel like insults now

and if all goes according to plan
i'll be scoring my autobiopic
don't let 'em look up to me as a prophet
don't let 'em philosiphize on the topic

and if all goes according to plan
when i'm scoring my autobiopic
i won't let 'em tell you the comedy's cosmic
you don't need a punchline to be a bit honest
with me

autobiopic

PRODUCED BY @NOSENTENCES 
ART BY TWITTER.COM/WAVELESSNY

it's banger season, come ride the wave

LYRICS:
this that laid back, cool shit, speeding past a cruise ship 
left you in the past tense, bloody, need a new lip 
cool, wrist like alaska, 'cause it's icy tho 
we could make you live a half-life like an isotope 
i've been drinking alcohol, but i ain't talking isopropyl 
feel like i'm about to fall, them bags under my eyes are purple 
woah, floor getting slicker with every shot 
woah, why you got your britches in a knot? 

it's the sicker spitter, hit a lick, and duck off in the dodge 
'cept i'm more than likely hoarding someone's blunt in a garage 
in the midwest, yeah, it's all a front or a facade 
such a bummer to be awful at the only thing you got 
but you managing it pretty well, vile with the flow 
think it's winterfell, wrist look like a pile of the snow 
i don't kiss and tell, if she wanna fly out for a show 
then i come and then i go, 'cause i'm always on the road 

don't mistake it or hate it, made my plate out of waste 
and went to the attic from basement, moving up in my placement 
from depressed and complacement to "i'ma flex 'til i change it" 
when no one knew what my name was, i still wrote page after page 
i suppose that if i make it, then that's why 
but i don't really wanna be that guy 
yeah, i don't wanna look like the bad guy 
but most my competition on standby 

so i'ma come thru and then kill and dig into beats 
i brag about nothing but make that shit heat 
they getting jealous when they listen to me 
but speaking back'll get 'em ripped into pieces 
pennsylvia to the borderline 
from east manhattan to the torrey pines 
i'm the central the topic like florida time 
and i'm passing if she only sorta fine 

and that's that... yeah... fax, no printer shit 
finally got some bands but i don't act no different 
thinking 'bout the old days... bagged no mistresses 
was listening to coldplay... yeah, don't mention it, whatever

WAVES

uhhh yeah @mt_fujitive

lyrics:
it's that awkward diva essence, chronically depressive
stop and leave a message or just talk to me a second
with that java bean aesthetic (grinding), probably dyslexic
if you got me mixed up with all these drama queens

i don't wanna hear that... you can keep that shit at home
rapping in my bedroom... guess i did this shit alone
often too alone, but all these tinder boys are pretty gross
so 'less you tryna go and grab some coffee, please don't hit my phone

lately, that's the only type i've fallen for
frail, tall-ish, nail polish, yeah, i've said it all before
used to grab my daily arizona from the dollar store
and kick it with the homies who don't rly like to call no more

yeah... but i don't call 'em either so it's my fault
slammed my cell receiver on the sidewalk
handle full of ether 'til my mind's gone
you don't need a feature, this is my song

you don't need a feature, this is my song
homie, you don't need a feature, this is...
well, you don't need a feature, this is my song
this is my song... and this

that awkward diva essence, chronically depressive
stop and leave a message or just talk to me a second
with that java bean aesthetic (grinding), probably dyslexic
if you got me mixed up with all these drama queens
(x2)

(pathetic)

my song (prod. mt. fujitive)

hey cool song coming for 100k
here's a thing i made this morning
also i'm on hiatus

@beet_farmer

lyrics:
wake up, take my morning walk, and pass out on the porch again
shatter under pressure, pilot corpses made of porcelain
terrified of questions, 'specially "lesser than..." or "more than friends?"
i panic over people like a swimmer to a dorsal fin

i'm out my element in every single element
bad with conversations, speak in nervous stares and mellow shifts in tone
in every room i occupy, i play the elephant
and glance at clocks to tick away the moments 'til farewell and dip

if anxious was a role one could fill upon a credits list
i'd grab an oscar every other time i left my bed a bit
performing well enough to leave my colleagues in a deficit
the academy awards would be incredulous

i'm often opulent in time alone, purveyor of the faux pas
horrible at family festivities, silent, phone on
i wander to the dinner table, fumble to the coleslaw
and wish i was at home so i could doze off

morning walk (prod. dweeb)

produced by @mt_fujitive
cover photo shot by @chriswrightotj

i have a cold

lyrics:
i'm getting sick of constant negativity, searching for some clarity
try to switch my mind around, reversing the polarity
and scuttle through the undertow, an urgent need for therapy
coercing me to stray from my roots

i've even practiced sacrficing bad news to aphrodite statues
antagonized by past dues, i'm camera shy and fat too
diet plan is snack food, banana pies and cashews
the person that i dream to be, i pantomime with tattoos
but even still, i sense the glimmer of my confidence
hiding under ink i got to mimic my accomplishments
they're few and far between, sort of timid in their promises
drowning subtle whispers with the engine of a rocketship

i can't linger any longer in the past
i'm not the person that i was back then
romanticizing everything, the flowers in the grass
were a stepping stone for expressing my love back then
but now i'm jaded as i cautiously detach
from all the people that i loved back then
drowning every issue via vodka from a flask
to think, the only thing i wanted was a hug back then

sick of constant negativity, searching for some clarity
try to switch my mind around, reversing the polarity
and scuttle through the undertow, an urgent need for therapy
coercing me to stray from my roots

my song (prod. mt. fujitive)

atlas

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